Strangers on a Train Page 3

  Plopping back down on the bed, I felt the train start to pick up again. A quick look at the sign outside told me it was a stop at Barcelona. I wasn’t at my destination yet, but I was in Spain proper. I let out a sigh and enjoyed the ache that lingered in my body from the night before. That was the best I had in…well, ever. I’d stayed at fancy 5 star hotels and had guys there, yet the best was in this rinky-dink little cabin where I couldn’t lie down any way besides the orientation of the bed without smacking my head on a wall.

  Still, he was gone, and I was on my way off to Valencia. I started to get dressed, panties first. I placed my hand over my pussy lips, imagining him still there. God, that felt so good. God, I was such an idiot for risking it.

  Putting on the rest of my clothes, not caring that they were a day old, I stepped out of the cabin, only to find that…

  Yes, I was completely alone. Enrique was nowhere to be seen. I took a few steps around the car, trying to see if he was hiding for some bizarre reason, but no, I had the entire car all to myself. I stumbled over to a chair and collapsed into it.

  Of course. The sweetest man and the best sex I’ve ever had turned out to be a liar. Telling me everything and anything he could to make me spread my legs for him. Hell, he even lied about himself being from Valencia if he was off the train already.

  I wasn’t angry. I was just disappointed. Sure, I more than knew that I’d only have Enrique for one more day at most, but that was still one more day. My hand shook, drifting toward my crotch, wishing I could experience all of it again.

  Fortunately, I stopped myself. It wasn’t healthy to obsess over a one-night stand. I reminded myself that I had a very progressive attitude toward sexuality, and one-night stands were fine. You didn’t fall in love with a guy just because you slept with him. Enrique should be no different.

  He was different though. Somehow.

  I grunted. The train ride was almost over, and I could move on. I could go do something fun in Valencia before I had to board the plane tomorrow. It would help take my mind off of Enrique and his apparent betrayal.

  6

  Hoisting my bag over my shoulder, I disembarked from the train into the busy streets of Valencia. Sure, the view of the city was quite impressive. There was a lot of architecture to appreciate. Spain as a whole was renowned for it. The clash of European ideals mixed in with five centuries of Moorish rule, and you got unique buildings unlike you’d see in any other city on the planet.

  The city was busy. I held my pack tight, knowing that tourists were always just prey to some people, and I had doubts that anything I was wearing made me blend in like I was a local. I walked through the streets, trying to think about what I actually wanted to do that day.

  The enthusiasm just wasn’t there. There was an emptiness inside of me. There was pain. I recognized it. Heartbreak.

  I let out another grunt. I didn’t even know the guy for a whole day. Maybe a few hours. Enrique didn’t deserve this much thought from me.

  The fact of the matter was though, this pain was real. I needed something to take my mind off things, to relax. I remembered something I had caught off the corner of my eyes, something that would prove to be a bit of some comfort food. Or in this case, drink.

  Starbucks are notoriously known for being well, everywhere. Valencia didn’t miss its international grip. There was one not far from the train station’s steps, and I turned myself around to head back, all the while pulling out my English-to-Spanish dictionary.

  Walking in, I started spouting off my special order. My very own creation, starting with a caramel frappuccino. I was surprised to find that the Spanish word for frappuccino was frappuccino. I guess since it’s just a word the company made up, it made sense.

  Tossing on some java, hazelnut syrup, lots of whipped cream, more caramel, and a touch of mocha, I had to make a few changes here and there due to Spanish Starbucks having different supplies.

  It was ridiculously unhealthy. I rarely ordered it for that reason. However, I had a case of heartache to preemptively treat, and that was enough reason to indulge.

  I sat down outside, pulled out my little traveling laptop, and just enjoyed the atmosphere. It was a very different atmosphere than I was used to, given that I couldn’t understand a word that the people around me were saying. Still, the sweetness and caffeine were enough to get my mind off Enrique for a while, and the Internet’s distractions were enough to make me forget about him, for however short of a time.

  Which was going to be very short. The way I was seated, I got to see people walk out of the train station as they arrived. Fifteen minutes into my slacking off session, a familiar face appeared at the top of the station’s stairs.

  Enrique. He had his own backpack slung over his shoulder and started coming down the stairway.

  I froze for a moment, wondering if I wanted to confront him. Maybe he wasn’t lying about being a Valencian, but it didn’t mean he didn’t ditch me after fucking me. Did I really want to come off as that obsessed clingy girl who keeps stalking the man she had slept with?

  Diverting my eyes was hard, but I eventually pulled it off. Still, every so often, I would glance up, trying to keep track of him like I was the obsessed clingy girl I didn’t want to be.

  I watched as he came down the stairs and started talking to people. I tried to overhear his conversations, but the noise of the city was too much.

  A stranger gestured toward me and Enrique started heading in my direction.

  Enrique was coming for me. I panicked, not sure of how I wanted to react. Part of me wanted to pack up and run away, which surprised me since I never wanted him to leave me in the first place.

  I did my best impersonation of a normal person and tried to keep my cool, and he was soon right in front of me.

  “Ah, Leah. Here I was, thinking I was going to have to ask around for hours about a beautiful American woman, and it turns out you’re right here.”

  I slowly looked up as uncertainty filled me. “Um, hi.”

  “I’m sorry about all that. I misjudged how long the train was going to wait in Barcelona. I tried to sneak off and get us some quality breakfast instead of the stale crackers the railroad tries to pass off as food.”

  Enrique sat down across from me, then pulled out a wrapped package and set it down on the table. I glanced at it, realizing I haven’t actually eaten anything so far. “What’s that?”

  “They were supposed to be fresh, hot botifarra. Catalan sausages. Tasty stuff. This, though, has gone cold. I wouldn’t recommend eating it. I underestimated how long the train ride would take.”

  My interest collapsed. “Well, crap. Now I’m hungry. This frappuccino isn’t exactly super filling you know.”

  He was back. My world felt a lot lighter suddenly, and I smiled for the first time in a few hours. Still, I had to dampen my joy with the constant reminder that even if he didn’t intend to ditch me, I still only had him for one more day.

  “These,” he began, picking them up and standing, “will make a stray dog very happy. As for your stomach, my dear Leah, come with me and I’ll bring you to some of the best Valencian cuisine no tourist would even bother to try.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said with a smile.

  He offered me his hand, and I gladly took it. We started off into the streets, a lover in one hand and my drink in the other. Really, the lover was enough, the frappuccino was just icing on the cake for my sudden happiness.

  7

  Enrique’s path was a somewhat long one. Hand in hand with him, part of me wondered if he was just parading me around to flaunt me to the locals. He called out to some of them in Spanish, indicating that he knew a good deal of the people that we were interacting with. As they glanced at me, I just looked bemused next to him. What was he saying I was to him?

  What was I to him? What was he to me?

  It was complicated. Yeah, one-day fuck-buddy seemed obvious, but I yearned to call him so much more. I hated that impulse within me.
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br />   Eventually, he led me to this hole in the wall place. There was a sign, but it was tiny, and the building was sandwiched between two much bigger ones, as if the owner of this place decided he wanted to build in the alley between the two. There were seats and chairs outside, and like a gentleman, Enrique pulled one out for me. “We’re eating here, I guess?” I asked, unsure of the place we were at.

  “Sanchio’s has the best paella in the city. Trust me, you’ll love it, my dear Leah.”

  I shrugged. “You’re the local.” I sat down and waited as Enrique placed our order with the cook. I was fine with him ordering for me, remembering the difficulties and constant translations that ordering my super-specialized frappuccino caused. Besides, I didn’t really know what was good here anyway.

  My eyes were locked on him as he moved. He acted as if he didn’t vanish on me. It was weird that the whole thing was a creation of my own head.

  He returned and sat across from me. “It’ll be a little time. It’s well worth the wait, I assure you.”

  “I’m not doubting you.”

  “Is something wrong? You’ve been sort of distant compared to the flirty fun girl you were last night.”

  “I can’t be on all the time,” I said.

  “This isn’t an on and off thing, Leah. If something is bothering you, tell me.”

  I shook my head, thinking for a moment. “I was sure you just ditched me after fucking me last night. Just another one-night stand. I was surprised when you came walking up to me with cold sausages.”

  He paused a moment, then abruptly laughed. “I don’t do that. Honestly, I rarely ever do one-night stands, really. I have to really like a person, really be into them, to want to have them. Romance still lives in me.”

  I pushed my hair out of my eyes, feeling the butterflies in my stomach getting the better of me. This guy was more Romeo than my Juliet really deserved. “Do you tell all the girls that?”

  “No. Really. The dry spell I’ve been on due to my lack of frivolous sex has been somewhat long. And it wasn’t because I didn’t have the opportunity either. I mentioned I was in Japan, and they thought I was Godzilla? A lot of Japanese women apparently want to fuck Godzilla.”

  I snickered. “I guess I understand you. Still, you know this can’t last, right? I’m getting on a plane tomorrow.”

  He rubbed his chin in deep thought. “Do you really have to?”

  I took a long slurp of my coffee to buy me some time. “Yeah, well, um…”

  “Su paella,” the waiter said, interrupting me and saving me at the same time. He placed the plates in front of us and nodded. “Disfruta.”

  “Gracias,” Enrique replied, and the waiter left us be.

  Before me was a large dish of rice, meat, and vegetables. It smelled spicy. It smelled delicious. Enrique had already taken up his fork and started to eat. I picked up my own and decided to hell with it and threw it down the hatch.

  If it smells good, it usually tastes good, and this dish was no different. I barely had time to talk as I ate, shooting a glance over at Enrique every so often. I didn’t want him to push the question of me staying more. I had hoped that when we finished, he would forget.

  I didn’t want to answer it. Why? Because I didn’t like the answer I would have to give.

  “I see you’re enjoying it,” he said, breaking our food-induced silence.

  I nodded enthusiastically. “Haven’t had anything this good in months. Most of the stuff I’ve tried tastes the same as the stuff you get in America.”

  “A lot of places water down their food to appeal to tourists. You have to find the really obscure places to get the authentic experience. You seem to like it fine, but I’m betting the common American would think it was too spicy.”

  “The common American thinks Dominos Pizza is actually worth eating. So you probably have a point.”

  He feigned offense. “I like Dominos. Sometimes. Sure, there’s better pizza, but once in awhile? I can take it. “

  “If there were ever a reason to hate you, you’ve just given it to me.”

  “Irreconcilable differences due to pizza. I’ve broken up with women due to dumber things, I’ll admit.”

  “Pizza is serious business.” I played with my food a little, trying to parse the messages he was sending me. He was talking about us like we had any sort of relationship beyond this destined-to-be-short fling. I wished it were true, really.

  It was then I felt something wet on my sandal, poking at it. I looked down under the table and noticed the culprit. “Hey there, fella, I don’t think you’re allowed near restaurants.”

  “Ah, Pablo,” Enrique quickly said, clapping and getting the dog’s attention. The dog rushed over to him and he started to pet it. It was a skinny sort of dog, one that I could tell had been on the streets for a while. He seemed happy to see Enrique.

  “I guess you have friends here.”

  “This is sort of Sanchio’s unofficial mascot. The owner can’t really care for him and he’s had no luck finding him a home. So he does what he can. He eats well for a stray, but sometimes he wants fresh things because even dogs can be picky.”

  “He’s sort of cute for a mutt,” I said. My words seemed to catch the dog’s ears because he ran back to me. I petted the top of his head and scratched his ears.

  “He likes you too. Usually he’s scared of strangers. You, though, well…”

  “I’ve been rolling around with someone friendly to him. So I guess he smells you,” I said.

  “True.”

  He pulled something out of his pocket. The sausages he bought in Barcelona. Sure, I didn’t have a palate that enjoyed lukewarm meat, but to a dog, that was probably the equivalent of caviar. Enrique pulled one out and tossed it away. Pablo ran after it and picked it up, then brought it back to Enrique’s side before lying down on his belly and wolfing it down.

  I watched as the process repeated, the little dog having the time of his life despite probably having a hard time most other days. Enrique was so sweet on top of it all. My mother, back when I got my first boyfriend all those years ago, told me I shouldn’t just date guys just because I thought they were hot. I shouldn’t date guys just because of what they could do in the bedroom. I should find someone who’s generous and kind, especially to service people and animals.

  The server came back and placed a black book on the table. I reached for my wallet and started to pull out some euros, happy that I didn’t have to fuss with currency conversion until I was back in the States.

  “I’ll handle it,” Enrique said, reaching out and pressing my wallet onto the table. He reached for his own and pulled out a pair of blue bills – twenties. He put them in the black book and closed it back up.

  “Either this place is really expensive, or you’re overpaying.”

  “It’s a tip. And this place is actually pretty cheap. Each plate costs about twelve euros or so?”

  “So you’re tipping something like eighty percent. All the tourism guides only said ten percent.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t have any smaller bills, and I’m not bothered enough to get change.”

  I smiled, flustered by all of this.

  “It’s a little bonus for the owner. He’s always done right by me. Maybe if I pay him enough, he’ll be able to get a place that lets him keep Pablo.”

  A deep breath. Why couldn’t he just be an asshole who I never wanted to see again? Just someone who did it for right now, but I would be happy to forget later? Or maybe one of those people who I did while drunk and would be ashamed to admit to?

  I finished my dish, shaking my head at the insanity of wishing the guy across from me was more terrible than he was.

  8

  The rest of the day was marvelous. He guided me through the town, showing me the tourist places, giving me a good history of it all. If the French tutoring thing ever fell apart for him, I was sure that he would eventually find work as a tour guide if he needed to. He kept me interested through it all, and
I valued each and every moment I had gotten to spend with him, trying to push the eventual end of it all out of my head.

  “This way,” he said, gesturing toward me.

  “That’s really thick brush,” I replied. The coolness told me that evening was coming, but night had not yet fully fallen quite yet. Enrique’s bright idea was to take me to the beach.

  Only we didn’t go to the beach. I saw the sign advertising it, and instead he brought me off the path and now I was looking at a spiky bush that looked painful to pass.

  “It’s not as intimidating as it looks. Come on. Time is ticking away, Leah.”

  I let out a breath and followed him as he squeezed through the bushes. Turned out, he wasn’t lying. The bush was easy enough to squeeze by, and it didn’t even tear up my clothes like I thought it would. Enrique continued to lead the way though, squeezing past some trees and other things before finally coming out onto a clearing.

  Walking out onto the sand, I gasped as I saw it.

  The sky shouldn’t have been so breathtaking, but where I was now, it was. Orange, pink, something in between, it was awe-inspiring looking at the clear sky, contrasted against the calm yet huge ocean.

  Enrique had led me to a small beach, walled off from the public area by two rocky walls on each side of us.

  He took my hand into his. “This is cut off from everyone else. Our own very private bit of beach.”

  “How did you know about this?”

  “I stumbled upon it when I was twelve. Apparently, a sharp-looking bush that isn’t actually all that sharp is enough to dissuade most people.”

  “This is quite the view. You come here often?”

  “When I need to think, mainly. It’s calm, and it’s good for that.”

  “You’ve brought other girls here, right?”

  “Nah.”

  I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Well, you should. This is something wonderful.”

  “I have to keep some things to myself. At least save it for someone really special.”

  I turned away from him as my skin flushed red.

  “Come on.”

  “Huh?” He pulled me down the beach, scooting me toward the water, before I stood firm and stopped him. “What are you doing?”