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what a sane person would do, right?
    I should have called Kaydi and hung out in Gabe’s nice warm house with his sweet grandmother until my sister made it back across town to let me back in the house. Sure Kaydi would have yelled at me and told me how I’d ruined her life. Again.
    Her complaining about me isn’t anything new, and at least I’d be warm.
    But I wasn’t going to do that.
    Not just because scooping my eyeballs out with a melon baller sounded preferable to calling my sister, but because right now, I’d take freezing over passing up the chance for a little adventure.
    A trip into the city with someone new? Someone new with nice, broad shoulders and a wicked grin that he flashes to cover up what’s really going on inside?
    No way.
    I’m all in.
    And maybe a little crazy.
    Even though I’ve lived just outside the city my entire life, I’ve only been on the train once before. Mom and I stopped for lunch at a place around the corner from the Children’s Hospital my doctor’s office is in, and when we got back to our car late that afternoon, the battery was dead. Dad was out of town for a meeting and it was, of course, freezing.
    So, we hopped on the train back to Gloucester, then had to take the bus back to our house. It was one of the coolest days ever, even though Mom was rocking back and forth with nervousness the entire time.
    Sometimes I wonder what my Mom was like before the life crushing anxiety of being my parent took over her soul.
    The train is packed pretty tightly with people tonight. More crowded than the one and only other time I was on it.
    There’s something about sitting so close to people, when everyone is on their way to entirely different places that is so fascinating. Outside the train, the world flashes too quickly to focus on one thing, but inside there’s plenty of time to wonder what everyone's story is. 
    The man sitting on the bench next to me has a worn, black briefcase on his lap and is tapping his foot impatiently. It’s odd, because if he were on his way home from work, you’d think he’d be going out of the city, not into Boston at this hour. So I can’t help wonder what his story is? Did he forget an important piece of paperwork and now has to make the trip back into the city? Did he tell his wife that, just to go and meet someone? How is it that I’m cynical already?
    “Do you do this often?” Gabe asks.
    “Do what?” I ask, blinking myself out of the people-watching daze I’m in. “Lock myself out?”
    Gabe shakes his head and smiles. That smile… That smile is one of the biggest reasons that I’m on this train right now. “Run off to the city with a stranger.”
    “Are we still strangers?” I ask. “I mean, we have known each other…” I glance down at my wrist but realize I’m not wearing my watch. Or much else for that matter.
    “You’re right, I think we could definitely qualify as acquaintances by this point,” Gabe says. “Let’s make it official. What’s your last name?”
    “Pettitt,” I say. “And yours?”
    “Martinez. See, last names out of the way. We’re well on our way to being actual friends who ran off together.”
    I laugh lightly. “I don’t know if this counts as running off, really. We did stop by my house to leave a note on the door for my sister, so—”
    “What’s up with her, by the way? Is she really so bad you didn’t want to call her to get back into your house?”
    “She’s not terrible—it’s complicated.”
    “I gotcha,” Gabe says. Though I seriously doubt he understands at all. “Sometimes when I screw up, even when it’s something minor, I feel like I’m being judged for it. Like someone is always watching me and shaking their head.” He pauses and then says with a smirk, “And sometimes people literally are.”
    “What do you mean?” I ask.
    Alright, maybe I’m paranoid because I’m new to this ‘venturing out’ thing, but I can’t fight the cold chill that runs down the back of my