From the Desk of Zoe Washington(42)

“No, but it looks pretty easy.” He reached into his cargo shorts pocket and took out some cash.

While he pressed a few buttons on the screen, I peered around the station. There were painted tiles on the wall with what looked like kid drawings of faces, boats, and animals.

I was admiring them when I heard Trevor say, “Uhh . . .”

“What?” I glanced back at him and he was trying to put bills into the machine, but it wouldn’t accept them.

He tried again. “It’s not taking my money. I don’t get it.”

“Maybe because it’s so wrinkled.” It was like he’d crumpled the bills up into a ball before stuffing them into his pocket. “Let me try.” I grabbed the money from him and quickly smoothed out the dollar bills. I held my breath as I tried inserting them again, but the machine spit them right out.

I groaned. “Let me use my cash.” But by the time I reached into my backpack for it, the ticket screen had reset itself and we had to start all over.

“Ugh,” I said. “This is so frustrating. We’re wasting time.”

“Maybe we should go to the ticket guy over there instead,” Trevor said. “It might be faster.”

“Okay.”

We went to the ticket booth, where a man in a Red Sox hat was talking to the ticket guy. They seemed around the same age—older than my parents—and I wondered if they knew each other, because they were laughing about something. I couldn’t think of anything funny about buying a train ticket.

Trevor and I stood behind them, waiting for them to be done. But whatever they were talking about must’ve been super interesting, because they kept on talking.

“This is taking forever,” I mumbled under my breath as I bounced on my heels.

Then I heard a train rumble into the station one level below us.

“Great, we’re missing a train,” I said, glancing at my watch. We’d been in the station almost ten minutes already.

“There’ll be another one,” Trevor said.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I cleared my throat really loudly—so loud, the sound echoed in the station.

The two men peered back at us.

“Whoops, sorry,” the man talking to the ticket guy said. “Hey, man, it was nice seeing you,” he said to the ticket guy. Then with a quick wave, he left.

Trevor and I hurried up to the counter and asked for four rides—two to get us to Harvard Square and two to get us back. The ticket guy didn’t blink an eye at Trevor’s crumpled bills.

After he handed us our passes, we hurried over to the ticket gate. Right then, I heard another train come into the station.

“Hurry!” I said to Trevor. He inserted the ticket and went through the gate. Then he handed it to me and I did the same.

We rushed to the escalator that led down to the track, and ran down it right as the train doors opened. We stepped onto the train right in time, and collapsed into two empty seats.

The doors closed and the train got moving. We were finally on our way, and I began to relax. I took my backpack off and put it near my feet. Trevor leaned over to retie one of his shoelaces.

Then there was a ding, and an automated voice said, “The next stop is Alewife.”

“Alewife?” I repeated. “Oh no!”

“What?” Trevor asked, looking up from his sneaker.

“This train is going the wrong way. We need to go the other direction!” We’d wanted the inbound train, going toward Harvard Square and Boston, but had gotten on an outbound train instead.

“We’ll turn around at the next stop,” Trevor said.

“Yeah, and waste even more time.” I leaned over and buried my face in my hands.

“Don’t worry,” Trevor said, elbowing me. “We still have plenty of time.”

When we got to the Alewife station, we hurried onto the platform and went to the other side, where the train we needed would pull in. It smelled gross down there, like pee or something. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for our train to arrive. When it pulled in, we hopped on and I took a seat right by the door. Trevor sat next to me.

We were quiet as the train started moving.

“The next stop is Davis Square,” the automated voice said. Right where we started. I groaned.

I could barely sit still. I was on the edge of my seat, my legs ready to jump up and carry me off the train as soon as we arrived at Harvard Square. I checked the time on my phone. It’d been almost a half hour since we were dropped off in Davis. We only had two and a half hours before Patricia would expect us back at J.P. Licks.

“What if we can’t find Professor Thomas in time?” I asked Trevor, wringing my hands together.

“We’ll find her,” he said. “She’ll be teaching her class.”

“Yeah.” I forced my muscles to relax into the train seat. Lying to my parents about sending letters was one thing, but what we were doing now was way too stressful. I couldn’t imagine how angry they’d be if they found out Trevor and I were on the T going to Harvard Square by ourselves. But if the rest of our plan went okay, it would be worth it.

Trevor took his phone out and started playing his Mario game as the train stopped back at Davis Square, then at Porter Station, where some people got off and on. Then the doors closed again. “The next stop is Harvard Square,” said the train voice.