%{
1#name[Kyle]: My name is...
2#boy[boy]: I'm a high school (boy/girl)
}
I shivered as I mounted the steps to the train station. It snowed last night, and all was quiet; the fields across were blanketed in untouched snow, and in the distance I could see lights flicker on as people awakened. Transmission towers stood tall, interspersed along the endless field like sentinels standing watch over the slumbering countryside. It was five in the morning, and the dead of winter. The early morning sky was dark overhead.
The Swanton Train Station was a small one, as stations go: two ticket machines, three benches, four lamp poles flickering amber light across the train tracks. A cold gust of wind blew right through my coat, and I quickly made my way over to one of the benches, where Erin Delaney was waiting.
Erin Delaney was my classmate, and the only other person in Swanton who attended Yarrow Academy: an old, ivy-covered institution two hours away by train. We were both scholarship students, two rural kids from the boondocks. She glanced up at my approach. I grinned and held out a cup of coffee.
It was a ritual for the two of us. Since we both had to get up so early to catch the train, we figured that it'd be nice to have coffee and breakfast together. I provided the coffee, and Erin provided the food. We did this for all seasons: spring, summer, fall, and winter. My favorite was winter, because despite the chill, the atmosphere was so quiet and hushed that it felt as though Erin and I were the only people in the world. There was a certain magic to sitting on the bench together, quietly sipping coffee and watching the sun rise.
"Thanks," Erin said, her breath pluming in the air, a small smile tugging her lips as she accepted the coffee. She dug around her backpack and pulled out a crumpled paper bag. Inside was—my eyes widened—my favorite: banana bread. Faint steam rose from the bag, dissipating into the crisp winter air. "Here's breakfast."
I eagerly thanked her and took a piece. It was still warm, and when I bit into it the crust gave way to a sweet, buttery taste. I chased it down with a sip of coffee, the bitterness of which faded to a mellow sweetness. "Delicious as always. How are you this good at baking?"
Erin shrugged, though she couldn't quite hide the smile that fluttered round the edge of her lips. "It's nothing special. Just measure ingredients, mix them together, and bake."
"Classic Erin, always modest," I said with a mock-sigh as I plopped down on the bench beside her. Erin chuckled lightly at that, and I smiled back at her. We sat in companionable silence, sipping our coffee and munching on the bread, as we watched the sky. I could see the faintest hint of the sun peeking over the horizon, casting a glow across the snow-dusted fields. A soft gold tinted the underside of clouds, and the horizon was painted a gentle pink that faded into blue as I traced my eyes upward.
I glanced at Erin. Her blue eyes were focused on the sky above, and she leaned forward, lips slightly parted as she held her cup of coffee in one hand and a bite of bread in the other. Her beanie was pulled over her ruffled brown hair, and she huddled into her dark duffle coat as another gust of wind blew across the field.
I took another sip of my coffee and finished off the banana bread. I quietly dug around my backpack, figuring that I may as well finish up my reading for English class. Erin's eyes flicked over to me as I pulled out my used Signet copy of The Scarlet Letter.
"Doing some last-minute reading?" she asked.
"You know me. Besides, it's hardly last-minute," I said with a laugh. "We still have two hours before we get to school."
"I guess so," said Erin, her lips quirking in a slight smile. She ate her last piece of banana bread, then rested her chin on her hand as her eyes wandered over to the transmission towers and the distant lights scattered across the snowy landscape. Sensing that she wanted to talk, I put my book aside.
"You know," Erin began, her voice barely audible, "I always thought that there was something lonely about those transmission towers. They look so isolated. And those lights. I always wonder about the lives of the people there. What they do, why they get up so early..."
She trailed off as she stared at the distant lights. I followed her gaze, squinting. They looked almost like the beginnings of the sea. "Yeah. It's nice, though. Makes it feel less lonely out here, knowing that there's other people who are up at the same time as us, going to work or whatever it is they have to do. Like, we're all in it together, you know?"
Erin nodded along to my words, her mittened hands clasping her cup of coffee