I tugged absently at a lock of chocolate hair, feeling it spring back into its curl as I let go. Boredom was all around me, in the stifling stuffy air in my bedroom, the suffocatingly hot air outside my window, in the way that the neighbourhood kids slumped down on the curb, too hot and tired to skateboard or to play handball. I sighed and pushed myself off the window sill. Turning to face my room, I surveyed the strewn clothes and messy desk in distaste before grabbing a university brochure and fanning my sticky shoulders frantically.

It was summer holidays, the wearily long four month break between finishing high school and starting university. The old Aussie summer heat that had been noticeably absent the past few years had returned with a vengeance causing a massive uprising in the stampede to buy air con. I hadn't bought one, renting a flat even with a roomie and working part-time to cover the costs didn't allow for certain luxuries.

The distorted mechanical sound of my ringtone pierced the thick air.

"It's raining, it's pouring, but I ain't complaining, 'cause I love the rain"

I lunged for the phone, tripping over my lamp and stubbing my toe on the bed in my eagerness.


There was a pause, a pause that told me exactly who it was. I slumped down on the edge of my bed and nursed my toe. Train. I didn't know whether to love or hate him, he confused me to no end. I didn't know whether I wanted him to once again be as close to me as before, even closer, or to go far, far away and never bother me again.

"Hey" He returned.

"So what are you up to on this beautiful day? I bet you are lounging in front of your new computer with the air con on hey." I remarked jauntily. I heard a faint exhale of air, a tiny laugh. It was the most I'd ever really gotten from him over the phone. Small puffs of a chuckle.

"Yeah, maybe." His velvety voice soothed me, I hated to admit it but his voice was like chocolate to a chocolate addict to me.

"Man it's crazy hot I should come over and crash your place! I'm dying over here! Melting into a puddle of unidentifiable slime, whoops there goes my foot!" I yelped.

"You should put the fan on." I could hear the smile in his voice.

It was how conversations usually went with Train. I'd entertain him when he called knowing that once I stopped he'd hang up, he didn't do silences or talking. He'd never answer any remarks about him coming over to hang out or me going over. I never knew what he wanted. He was tall, dark, and not so much mysterious as silent. He didn't talk much, and when he did it was never about himself.

Train is a part of my life but I don't know where he fits in. Not quite a best friend, but not just a friend. We are neither at the end of our strange relationship nor at the beginning, even the middle. But I know I'd rather be at the beginning or at the end, what ever the end is. Anywhere but here.



a/n: HI, well I'm trying my hand at a story! I feel comfortable putting this one up, unlike the others sitting in a folder on my desktop reproaching me for killing them off. So please tell me what you think!