Noelle - Day 43 (Backpacks and Chameleons, my way)

So I know...
This isn't the writing prompt I said I would do first.  Honestly, I had completely forgotten about this story I wrote for school until now.  I hope you like it!

The thing about trains: you never know who you will be when you get off.

Trent Foy stared at the plaque on the side of the train, then raised an eyebrow.  “Whatever,” he muttered and lugged his bags onto the train.

He hated traveling on trains.  They were crowded and sticky and trundled around the countryside like some kind of drunken caterpillar.  This one seemed to be even more filthy and filled with screaming children than usual.

“Whatever,” he said again and

shouldered his back pack, shuffling down the aisle.  He checked several compartments, but they were all filled.  One with an Indian family, another with several suited men, another with three screaming children and a frazzled mother.

A boy dived out the door and caught a kitten who seemed to hate trains just as much as Trent did.  The little kid stared up at Trent wide eyed, while Trent glared back down.  After a moment, Trent said, “Move would you?  You’re holding up like half the train.”

The little boy nodded deftly and retreated back into the compartment.

Trent kept on walking, and soon he came across - oh what good luck! - an empty compartment.  He glanced up and down the aisle, and there was no one in sight.  He slid in, and with a sigh, closed the door.

He sat down, stretching out and grinning.  This was so cool!  He popped in his earbuds and propped up his feet; no shrieking kids this time - a compartment all to himself.  The train whistled…

…and a girl opened the door.  She walked in along with a head full of white-blond hair, a checkered, turquoise dress, florescent orange knee-high boots, two bags, and one chameleon on her shoulder.  Yes, a chameleon.

She dropped her bags at his feet and sat down on the other chair without so much as a ‘is anyone sitting here’.

“My name is Cia Paloini and every where else was full.  What’s your name?”

“Um…”  Trent said, wondering if he should lie and say it was taken.  Before he could answer, the train started to move.  The strange girl suddenly threw open the window and waved to everyone still on the platform.  Trent slid down in his seat and mumbled, “Not cool.”

Cia took no notice of Trent’s agonized groans as she continued to wave at the passing people.  Slowly - thankfully even - the sticky, smelly, slow train chugged, heaving its bulk forward.  It spluttered for a moment, and then set off, forcing the girl to pull herself back into the compartment.  Trent glared at her.

Without saying a word to her, he turned away and plugged in his headphones, muttering murderously.  Out of the corner of his eye, Trent could see the girl staring at him with a strange look on her face.  He ignored her.

After about half an hour of no conversation, Cia brushed her chameleon off her shoulder and happily stared out the window.   From somewhere in her bag, she produced a bag of carrots, which she started nibbling on one after another like a goat.

Trent was adjusting his headphones when Cia suddenly gasped.  He glanced at her, pulling off his headphones.  Cia gave him a Cheshire cat grin and said breathlessly, “Isn’t that such a gorgeous cloud?”  She grabbed yet another baby carrot and added, “like one big cotton ball, drifting along a blue Caribbean sea.”

He looks at the cloud in question and snap, “It’s a storm cloud.  So what?”  I pull my headphones on again.

She looks at me placidly and says loudly enough that even I can hear her, “There’s sure to be some farmers out here who need that rain.”  She smiles and finishes the bag of carrots.  I turn the volume up all the way.

“Ooh!”  She squeals, “Look there’s another one!  It looks like a unicorn, doesn’t it.”

Trent gives up with the headphones and put them back in his bag.  Cia is apparently a chatterbox and an optimist.  “There’s no such thing as unicorns,” he growls grumpily.

“Well, maybe not, but I think they’re such beautiful creatures - assuming that they’re real.  If they are real, then that cloud looks like one.  Don’t you think so?”

With a sigh, I turn around to see this unicorn cloud.  Before manners can stop him, he splutters, “That looks like a demented duck!”

“Well then, you must have a different sort of imagination from me,” Cia says cheerfully.  “You know if you look at it from this angle it does kind of look like a duck, though I can’t see the demented part.  Different imaginations see things differently.”

“Imagination is for dorks,” He mutters as he turn away, blushing.

Cia kept on chattering for a while, though slightly quieter, allowing the headphones to do their jobs.  Trent attempted to ignore her as she talked happily about chameleon care, but something was nagging him.  Finally, he dragged off his headphones a final time and said, “I don’t think I told you my name.  I’m Trent, Trent Foy.”

“Oh hi!”  She said, grinning from ear-to-ear.  “I think I said my name - did I? - but I’m Cia Paloini.  In fact, I’m sorry, I’m sure I said that before.  Oh, that’s my chameleon, Mr. Origami.   I know it’s not much of a name, but what can you do, hmm?” 

“I’m going to visit my grandparents, what about you?”

Trent hesitated - he didn’t actually mean to get in an honest conversation with Cia.  He just wanted to (somewhat) politely introduce himself, maybe ask about the chameleon.  Bah.  Cia took no notice of him but smoothed her brightly colored dress and continued.

Trent sat up with a sigh and muttered, “I sure hope no one I know is on this train.”

As if on some horrible stage cue, a teenage boy just slightly older than Trent slid the compartment door open.  Trent recognized him - he was Jason Angelini, a member of Trent’s baseball team.  It was rumored that an eight-grade girl had swooned when he walked past in the hallway.  Trent groaned and said as calmly as he could, “Can I help you Angelini?  Or can you just be on your way?”

“Nah.”  Jason said with a wicked grin.  He sat down next to Trent and stretched out, forcibly reminding Trent of himself.  “Who’s your girlfriend?  Actually, whatever, never mind.  Hey hot stuff, what school do you go to?  Are you from around New Jersey?”

Trent fervently wished that he could either turn invisible or socially afford to sucker-punch the guy in next to him.  As it was, he could do neither.  Cia smiled vaguely and said perkily, “Nope.  And if you ever call me hot stuff again I will personally wipe that horrible smirk off your face!  You can leave now.”  Mr. Origami hissed.

Jason, who apparently did not noticed Mr. Origami or expect such a cheerfully blunt response, sped out of the compartment and disappeared down the hall.  Trent goggled Cia, having not expected this sort of response from Cia either.  Cia herself beamed at Mr. Origami and pulled out a sketchbook.

Trent eyed her as she flipped through the pages, wondering…should he?  Was it worth the risk?  Hmmm…

Finally, not believing his mouth and immediately regretting it, he said suddenly, “I like to draw.  It’s not like I’m excellent or anything, but I’m fair.  It’s really not that great…not cool at all, but I like to draw.”

Cia grinned so widely Trent half-expected the her head to disengage from her neck.  “I absolutely love to draw!  Can I see some of your drawings?  I had this really good one but Mr. Origami ate it, I was so mad at him I almost painted him blue.  He hates paint.  Oooh, that’s such a cool drawing-”

For Trent had dragged his grubby sketchbook out of the backpack.

“Hey you.  I want a word.”  Trent whipped around to see Jason had returned, along with Trent’s whole baseball team!

Trent closed his eyes, wishing that Jason and his buddies leave.  They didn’t.  Instead three boys, including Jason, crowded in on the opposite bench, all glaring at Cia and Trent.

“You see,” Jason said with a growl, “Nobody talks to me like that.  So I thought it would be nice if we all could just get along.  Trent can be buddies with Marcus and Lee here while I can get to know you better. Doesn’t that sound nice Trent Foo-Foo?”

Trent looked between Cia and Jason’s handsome face.  Cia was white faced, though with rage or fear Trent didn’t know.  He looked at Jason - he didn’t like Jason in the slightest, but she was just some stranger, a girl that he would never see again, why risk his social life on her?

Marcus cracked his knuckles like a Western gangster and Jason’s scowl deepened.  He leered at Cia.  “C’mon honey, don't you think that we should keep in touch?”

Trent whitened, thinking hard.  He had worked all year to be friends with Jason.  Don’t be stupid, he told himself, don’t stand up.

With an ugly grin, Jason switched topics.  “Aw…have you two been teaching each other to draw…what’s this, twerp?”  He snatched up Trent’s sketchbook.

Then a whole bunch of things happened all at once.  Mr. Origami jumped in one of the boy’s laps, making him squeal like a four-year-old and fling his hands in the other boys’ faces.  At the same time, Cia grabbed Trent’s sketchbook away from Jason, screaming so loud that everybody else winced  and covered their ears.

Jason glared at Trent as his two thug friends lumbered away down the hall.  Trent realized he was on his feet.

“You- you- you are the most horrible hot girl I have ever met,” he hissed a Cia, then howled like a hippopotamus, for Trent stamped on his feet and shoved him against the wall.

“Trent!”  Cia exclaimed, surprised.

“You leave her alone Jason,” Trent said, looking Jason in the eye - something he would never had dared to do before now.  “Get out.”

Jason straitened his collar, muttering, “I’m warning you twerp, I’m gonna make you pay for this.  You’ll never play another baseball game, you hear?  Never!”

“Actually,” said a deep voice from the door, “I think it’s rather the opposite, Mr. Angelini.”

Both boys turned to see the baseball coach.  He was in a towering rage.  Trent sat back down, his face pale.  “I saw the way you treated that girl and your teammates.  Honestly, I don’t think I can afford to have someone like that on my team.  You are dismissed.”

Jason’s eyes widened.  Every popular boy was on the baseball team.  That was the only reason Trent had joined.  “Please sir,” Jason stuttered, “Give me a second chance!  What about all that money my family donated to the school?”

“I will discuss it with you parents.”  A meek Jason and a glowering baseball coach left, leaving silence behind them.

“Well then.”  Cia said slowly, “I suppose I should thank you.”

“Yeah.”  Trent murmured.

“Since you so - ahem - gallantly came to my rescue,” (Trent blushed profusely and looked out the window)  “Here is my email and your backpack.  Keep in touch?”

Trent was reminded of Jason saying the same thing, then accepted the shred of paper.  The train whistled and they both jumped.  With all the excitement, they had completely forgotten about the fact that they were on a train.

As they piled off onto the station, Trent watched as Cia’s white head of hair and Mr. Origami disappeared in the milling crowd.  He walked off with a smile on his face, feeling like he could be happy today.  He didn’t see the plaque on the side of the train:

I told you so.