The Dorm Guard 21 Chapter Twenty-One: Train Ride

*

I never thought I was good at packing my bag, for anything, but after I had packed my suitcase for the holiday, I realised that the girls weren't even half done.

I rolled my suitcase down the hallway, peering into their rooms as I past, and saw either their half-empty suitcases or, in Mia's case, nothing done. She sat in the centre of her bed, hunched over reading. I stopped at the sight of this, tilting my head, "You already packed, Mia?"

Without looking up, she shook her head, her pale blonde hair falling over her eyes, forcing her to brush it aside.

Before I could inquire further, Ava emerged from one of the bathrooms, nudging me as she walked past. I followed her, noting the pink toiletries bag in her hands. "Don't worry about her. She'll sort herself out," Ava informed, "And if not, this beach holiday won't be much fun for her."

"Does she always do that?" I asked as we stood at the top of the main stairwell.

Ava shrugged, "We haven't gone on a lot of holidays together. I'm not sure if she acts like that with Bonnie's family, but for overnight trips and such with the school last year she always packed the morning of." She looked behind me at my rolling suitcase. "You're done?"

I looked back, noting my one bag. "Yeah."

"Is that gonna be enough? We're going for a week."

"I'm all sorted," I informed. With the amount of travelling I did with my Dad, we had almost a mathematical system down for temporary travel; pack one and a half times more underwear based on the amount of days you go away, one formal attire, one casual-formal wear, three different pairs of shoes, one outfit, including pants and shirt, for every two days, and then whatever accessories I wanted, like laptop, phone, cords and so on.

Ava shrugged again, "Place your metaphorical bets now. How many bags do you think Estelle will bring?" she asked.

I blinked, "I dunno. Does she bring a lot?"

Ava smiled, "She packs what she calls 'alternative daily outfits.' I think her system is like three outfits per day or something." She shook her head in amus.e.m.e.nt, "Different worlds I guess. But I always have someone to snag a dress off in a pinch."

I furrowed my brows as I returned her grin, "Yeah, always helpful."

"I can see you rocking a purple sequined dress. Perhaps a tight fitted one," she joked as she turned on her heels and continued down the hall.

The idea crossed my mind as I started down the stairs. Amada was sitting on the bottom step dressed in tan colour shorts and a blue striped shirt, his hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. From this angle, he looked like a boy. He was playing a DS.

"Hey kid," I tapped him on the head on my way past, he grunted a response as I placed my bag next to his against a wall. "What'cha playing?"

"Professor Layton," he answered.

"The puzzle game?"

"Yep."

"You all packed?" I looked at the other bags that had been placed in the front room. There was my black baggage, a red carry on suitcase and a unicorn themed duffle bag.

Amada nodded, "Yeah. I packed yesterday."

"Landon!" someone called. A moment later, the other twin almost threw herself over the stair railing to look down at me. "If I bring a Badminton set, will you play with me?" she asked.

I paused, "I don't think I've every played."

Amia hummed in though for a moment, "Beachball?"

"We own a beachball?" Amada asked looking up from his game.

Amia crossed her arms, somewhat pouting, "We can always get one."

"Sure," I answered.

The next couple of days were a series of panicked packing and excited chitter-chatter from the girls about what they would do on the beach. We were leaving tomorrow, some choosing to go to bed early, so they would be ready for the travel tomorrow. Within one hour, it was just me, Bonnie and Mia sitting in the lounge room, Mia listening to a French man speaking on the radio while Bonnie fiddled with her phone.

"How'd packing go for you, Bon?" I asked, trying to fill the silence.

Bonnie lifted her gaze, her eyes slightly cold. "Don't call me that," she snapped.

I rolled my eyes, lying down on the couch and staring at the ceiling. "You excited for the beach?" I questioned, "Wasn't that on your bucket list or something?"

Bonnie turned off her phone. "I've been to the beach before," she grumbled.

Mia lifted her head at hearing her step-sister say this, mild scepticism etched into her face. I pried on her behalf, "Really?"

Bonnie nodded, "Yep. Growing up, my parents owned a beach house in Fiji, an entire island dedicated to topics, sand and silence," she informed, she looked to Mia and added, "This was before you, dude."

Mia nodded as she returned her attention to the radio.

"What about after the accident?" I asked.

Bonnie tried to hide the sudden pang of discomfort my question raised in her, but her nose twitched and her hands came together on her lap, her icy blue eyes seemed to change tone, losing that bright quality. "My wheelchair doesn't go on sand very well…" she confessed, "And I can't swim too well either." She breathed heavily through her nose as she slumped in her chair, "Deliberately so by my parents."

There were times where Bonnie's lack of freedom astonished me, and moments where she opened up, even a little, about some of her frustrations always successfully caught my attention. We were alone, everyone had gone to bed, there were no distractions or anything that could suddenly make Bonnie stop talking about this. This was my chance to get her to open more.

I sat up, "How come your parents are so worried?" I asked, "I mean, overprotective worried."

Bonnie's smirk was sad, "I am the only heir to the Rank estate. My umm… mere existence alone was a blessing to my parents, a surprise because my Mother couldn't have kids successfully. When I came around they were thrilled, their own blood offspring, that they could groom to follow in the footsteps of their political business endeavours." She forced a laugh, but it sounded scratchy, like there was a catch in her throat. "When the accident happened, I think something shifted in my parents. They no longer saw me as a kid, as a long-term resource to add to their political career or as an independent daughter. I became this fragile little thing that in the span of one day had everything taken from her." Bonnie didn't look close to crying, or if she was she hid it very well, but her lip quivered. "I couldn't walk, other kids didn't understand what had happened to me, rehabilitation wasn't working, I was taken out of sports, clubs, events… my existence disappeared." She sighed, "The day of the accident, I went from being their child to their liability. And in business, if you don't take absolute control of a liability, it can become a problem."

Bonnie went to continue, but her eyes flickered to Mia, who's expression had slowly become just as sombre as Bonnie's, her head slowly dropping to look at the ground while she nibbled on the nail of her thumb.

Bonnie seemed to alter what she was going to say, her tone becoming dismissive. "I love my parents, but how they're dealing with this situation is unfair to everyone." Bonnie's eyes became gla.s.sy at admitting this, and upon shattering her façade of composure, she shut off again. "Excuse me, I'm going to bed." She reached forwards and touched Mia's shoulder, "You should too."

Mia offered the slightest of nods as Bonnie retracted her hand and she rolled out of the room, at the doorway lingering. "Goodnight, Landon."

I looked over the lounge at Bonnie and waved, "Goodnight, Bonnie."

She disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, leaving me alone with Mia and the ghostly French ramblings of the radio set. Mia's expression didn't change as she stared at a spot in the table. I wondered whether to try and pry Mia, my curiosity ultimately winning as I gently asked, "Do you agree Mia?"

Mia's teeth stopped gnawing on her nails as she froze to the spot. Quite suddenly, she pulled her fingers from her mouth, turned off the radio and stood up. She was opening a closing her fists, silently telling me she was growing agitated, as she quickly left the room, likely after Bonnie.

*

Eight. Eight was the magic Estelle baggage number.

I offered to help Simmons carry them to the car Estelle's aunt had sent us, but she waved off my help, moments later several men dressed in clean black uniforms came in and took everyone's bags.

"Mia, now's not the time for this!" someone called.

On cue, Mia emerged down the hallway and started running down the stairs, still dressed in her blue sheep pyjamas and no shoes. The twins were sitting at the bottom of the steps, tying their shoes, as Mia tried to run by, one of them quite suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hing her arms and pulling her onto their lap. When Mia was grabbed, she didn't object and sat contently on their lap.

Ava and Robyn got to the bottom of the steps, each panting. "What's going on?" the twin who grabbed Mia asked.

"Someone doesn't want to go," Ava informed as Robyn plonked on the ground, her chest heaving as she panted.

Mia tapped her knuckles together as she looked around, appearing to get uncomfortable.

I frowned, "Why didn't you let us know?" I asked crouching down to her size.

Mia grunted as she turned her head away from me, eventually prompting to cover her ears and close her eyes.

"It's too late now, Mia. We're all ready to go," Ava informed, catching her breath, "Now go get dressed."

Mia whined and shook her head, throwing her arms around frantically and nearly hitting the twin she was sitting on.

"Mia," I heard Bonnie's wheelchair on the wooden floorboards as she emerged into the front room, dressed in a blue floral sundress and a pink backpack sitting on her lap, "Don't be difficult." Mia lifted her head, her objections begrudgingly disappearing as she pushed herself up and stomped up the stairs.

When she had disappeared to the next floor, Ava scoffed and looked to Bonnie, "How do you get her to listen to you?"

Bonnie shrugged, "I don't treat her like a five-year-old," Bonnie said with a wide, mocking smile, "And I'm her big sister, what else is she supposed to do?"

"If anything, she has more reason to not listen to you," one of the twins stated, "I don't listen to Amada."

Amada rolled his eyes, "Yes. I'm very aware."

Bonnie continued rolling until she was in the middle of the room. "How am I getting to the train station?" she eventually asked, seeing the cars through the door.

"You get to ride shotgun!" Estelle suddenly appeared, jumping onto the handles of Bonnie's wheelchair, it caused them both to roll forwards a few meters before Bonnie stopped them. "We'll be folding your wheelchair in the boot though."

Bonnie turned her break on, so it couldn't move as Estelle continued balancing on the two handles like a gymnast. "And the sleeper train has wheelchair access, so you'll be right until we get there."

Bonnie nodded, and stated unenthusiastically, "Great."

"Thanks again for driving us, Estelle," Amia informed, "You didn't have to. Our Aunty would've sent for us."

Estelle made an indifferent gesture. "Please, don't mention it. You're taking me on a trip to the beach. It's the least I could do."

Alexis emerged from the kitchen, a sandwich in her hand and a leather side bag hanging at her hip. "How's it looking?" she asked, fitting the corner of the sandwich into her mouth.

"Looking good," I answered.

She tilted her head, a small smirk forming, "I asked about the baggage situation, but alright." That joke took a moment to register, and when it had she winked at me.

"Miss," one of the chauffeurs said, "We're ready to depart whenever you are."

Estelle left Bonnie's wheelchair to address the man. "Thanks, Steven. We'll be out in a moment," Estelle a.s.sured, "Just a couple more things to do."

Steven nodded, "Very well, Miss."

He went to exit the house, but Estelle suddenly blurted out, "Please wear the hat!"

He froze in the doorway, appearing to take in the request, before sighing, turning around and producing a hat from under his coat. With a smile, he hatted himself, much to Estelle's delight. "You've got five minutes, princess. Otherwise you'll miss your train." There was a playful tone in his voice as he smiled and returned to the car, Estelle providing an animated wave as he left.

"Steven's been in one of my drivers since I was eight," she informed, "Love that man! He takes me to the arcade instead of etiquette courses."

"You could probably use some etiquette courses," Bonnie grumbled, it was a whisper of an utter, but I somehow heard her and couldn't suppress my laughter.

Alexis linked an arm with me as she continued her sandwich. "What're we waiting on?" she asked.

"Mia doesn't want to go," I informed as Alexis offered me some of her sandwich; it was ham and cheese.

"When did she decide that?" Alexis asked.

Mia came running down the steps, a small brown suitcase trailing behind her and now dressed in her denim dress with a white lace belt sewn into the waist and brown boots. "Is that going to be enough?" Ava asked.

Mia looked at her bag and shrugged, showing off a backpack she also equipped herself with. Bonnie approached Mia and unzipped the bag, rolling her eyes at seeing the contents before closing it back up. "It's full of books."

Ava pouted, crossing her arms, "There's nothing wrong with that."

Robyn made a sly smile and signed something I missed, but whatever it was prompted Ava to punch her in the arm.

After some difficulty folding Bonnie's wheelchair, we were off in two luxurious looking cars to the train station in the next town over. The scenery of here to there were endless fields of gra.s.s, some used for farming purposes like sunflowers and one vineyard, and another, which Robyn seemed excited about, harbouring sheep.

I shared a car with Ava, Robyn, and Alexis. For the first ten minutes none of us spoke to each other, aside from Robyn, we were fascinated by the inside functions of the car. There was a ridiculous amount of leg room, an armrest with six b.u.t.tons ranging from control to the aircon to control of the window, and under our seats were mini fridges stocked with different drinks and chocolates. Alexis was fascinated by the fabric and st.i.tching of the interior, running her fingertips over the smooth leather.

When we got to the train station, it was bustling with life. Men in business suits and carry on bags, women pushing prams across the platform with a husband following behind, children being scolded for playing handball so close to the safety line and elderly people reading, with their partners fussing about being warm as they tightened their scarves. The brick flooring intensified the sound of people's footsteps, creating a chaotic chorus of noise. Alexis held onto me tighter, even closing her eyes as we all weaved our way through the people.

Steven pa.s.sed Estelle a small pile of tickets when we got to the correct platform; each were bright red labels dictating our names and an I.D number of some kind. Estelle handed them out, some choosing to loop them on their bags while Bonnie physically pinned it to a distracted Mia's chest.

Alexis ran her fingers over the label and frowned as she said, "I can't read this."

Steven answered, "My apologies. They didn't have braille ones available. It just has your name and an I.D number for your sleeper cart, all you need to do is show it to one of the staffs and they'll point you in the right direction."

Alexis scoffed, "I sure hope not. I won't know which way they're pointing." I couldn't withhold my chuckle.

Twenty minutes later, a train pulled into the station and I was ushered on before I could listen to the announcements. Someone hastily explained to me that there were six rooms per cart and that the 'Estelle Grouping' took up one whole cart. Food sessions happened thrice, 8 am, 12:30 pm and 7 pm, and we were expected to arrive at the coast by 9:30 am tomorrow. The man who explained this to me made an off-handed joke, commenting, "There aren't any rules, aside from please be respectful of other pa.s.sengers and no opening windows, we have no time to back-track if one of you fall out."

The train had a cosy, 1940's look. The walls, while not wood, were polished and made to look like planks of varnished brown, with matching flooring with a green hallway rug. Aside from the rug, the hallway to the rooms were featureless. Each room had a large black number from 20 to 26.

My room was 24, at the very end of the hall. I rolled my bag to my door and opened it, surprised by how simultaneously huge and compact it was. The room was a small square, which made sense wince it was a train bedroom, but the floor was the mattress I was to sleep on, not an inch of fake floorboards could be seen. There was a large window opposite the doorway, showing a magnificent view of the station outside as it waited to continue. On the right wall was a cabinet, likely for storage, and some shelf room, one of which harboured a small TV screwed into the shelf. I was in awe.

"I'm never going to get use to rich life," I breathed as I lugged my bag onto the bed and stepped in. The bed's volume was largely caused by the fluffy blanket, which sank upon adding any weight to it.

I had left my door open, across from me Amada and Amia peered into their room, clearly not as taken aback by it as I was, as they cleanly maneuverer their belongings into the room, placing them amongst the storage s.p.a.ce before collapsing side by side on the bed.

Amada sat up and locked eyes with me. "Hi!" He waved.

I smirked and waved back, "Hi."

*

I spent most of the train ride in the room, sitting in the top corner of my bed leaning on the window frame to watch the scenery. It was mainly out of boredom. For the past hour I had been flicking through channels on the TV, and aside from some strange bunny cartoons or news channels in different languages, there wasn't anything on.

At first, all I saw were buildings as the train travelled up a railing and gave me a bird's eye view. Once it levelled out as we had moved for a few hours, it turned to countryside looks; more fields of gra.s.s, the occasional cottage, small towns, isolated train stations, and a handful of lakes.

I could hear the chattering of the other girls on the carriage. I could hear Estelle, Alexis and Ava, likely Robyn as well, in the room next to me talking about stuff. I was under the impression they were braiding hair.

In my daze, someone opened my door, Amada crawling in and sitting on the edge of my bed.

I blinked away my drowsiness and turned to him, "Hey mate."

Amada greeted me quickly before holding out a video game. "Want to play?"

I took the game from him and scanned its t.i.tle: Ninja Mayhem 24. On the cover it featured a black ninja wearing a red belt and a grey ninja wearing a blue belt, the t.i.tle written as if someone had sliced it with a sword.

"Never played this before," I said, "But sure. Sounds like fun."

After some tweaking, Amada hooked up my TV with a small console he had fitted into one of his suitcases, and we sat at the end of my bed, only a few ruler lengths from the television, playing what I a.s.sumed to be a racist interpretation of Kung-Fu, karate and ninja scenarios.

Amada enjoyed the Ninja fighting game the most. I tried to start a conversation from that. "You like ninjas, Amada?"

Amada shrugged, "I think they're cool." He was bashing the b.u.t.tons on the controller, my thumb beginning to cramp up while he seemed unaffected. His black dressed ninja was annihilating my white dressed one.

"What do you like about them?" I wondered.

Amada shrugged again. "I like how they're stealthy," he stated, "They can run away from things without being noticed, and if they are they always know really cool fighting moves." He clenched his jaw as his character pulled out a pair of nun chucks. It was his special move.

The screen exploded in a series of orange and yellow flashes as a low accented voice proclaimed, "FINISH HIM!" After some grunts and yelps, my character was defeated.

I playfully tossed the controller on the end of the bed and admitted defeat, "I'm done."

Amada chuckled as he placed his controller next to mine. "Thanks for playing. Amia doesn't like the fighter games," he informed.

"They your favourite ones?" I pried.

He nodded, cracking his knuckles, "I'm really good at it."

I looked to the ceiling, following the different lines and etches in the panels. "You excited about the beach?" I asked, not expecting him to be much of an outdoorsy person.

"Not so much the beach, but there's this really cool water park just down the road and a really nice lookout above the beach." He shifted so he was facing me, "When Amia and I were younger we like to race through the rockpools on the beach though. I always won because Amia doesn't know how to run on the rocks. She hates it when I win." Despite this, he couldn't supress his wide smirk.

A thought came to mind, one that made me pause in consideration and widen my eyes as I realised something. "You like to run?" I sat up.

Amada seemed taken aback by the question. "Umm… not overly I guess…" He sounded uncertain, "I mean, I'm good at it."

I recalled the first day of school when he had run away from that Ashley chick when she thought he was a boy. Ashley was a large girl and, in the weeks since I've seen her, I know she's on the track team. She's an incredibly fast person, but Amada had outrun her with time to spare. "Have you ever considered joining the track team?"

Amada made a small face, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as he looked out the window. "I can't join any sports teams."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Everyone thinks I'm a girl." He explained how since everyone thought he was a girl, the only option was for him to either join the girls' track team, which if he ever bulked out would be unfair and suspicious against other track teams, or he joins the boys' team, and everyone know that he cross-dressed for two years. He shook his head in terror at the idea of that, going pale and visibly sick, "The boys at our school aren't going to be nice, Landon. I don't know what they'd do to me."

Amada seemed genuinely terrified. I sat up and reached a comforting hand out, patting him on the shoulder. "Amada, if the only reason you won't is because of them, I promise you if you ever decide you want to tell people you're a boy, I will help you," I stated.

Amada's cheeks flushed as he shook his head, "Thanks, but no."

He turned to go out of my room. "I mean it, buddy," I called, halting him at the door, "You don't have to fear them, I'll protect you."

Amada lingered in the doorway, rocking on heels as he hung his head and held the doorframe, before finally muttering, "Thanks…"

He went to close the door, but I quickly added, "I can teach you some ninja moves."

Amada's head lifted and became as alert as a meerkat when he looked back to me. "Really?"

I felt weird calling them ninja moves, but I recognised many of the video game moves from my self-defence or karate cla.s.ses. His enthusiasm made me smile as I nodded and a.s.sured him, "Yeah. Open-hand-strikes, groin shots, round-house kicks, I can teach you everything I know," I a.s.sured with a smile. Amada's smile broadened as he nodded, a sudden spark in his eyes, as he exited my room.