Free February Fever by Jess Lourey

but I came face to face with the brunette who shared a row with Jed.
    â€œHey!” she said. “Bathroom’s full?”
    I nodded in the affirmative—I didn’t want the bullet-wielding arguers below to be able to identify my voice—and raced past her, which was no easy feat in the tight quarters. She’d probably as sume I was in such a hurry because I had gastrointestinal issues. I could live with that.
    Back in Car 8, I considered taking an empty seat and pretending I belonged long enough to get a full eyeball on the couple who’d been arguing, but my heart was still beating faster than it should, and I knew that if they suspected someone had been eavesdropping, my face would give me away. Instead, I hurried forward to the viewing car.
    The sun had recently set, but the car was still impressive. The entire roof and walls were made of glass. The world slid off the windows like ink. The chairs here were smaller and arranged to face out so every seat was a good view, and every one of them was taken. A bartender was pouring beers at a counter in the middle of the room. I was impressed by how steady his arms were, even though the train rocked side to side as it moved forward.
    Watching the golden stream leave the can and glurg into the plastic cups, I was reminded that I still needed to pee. I made my way down to this car’s lower level, not pausing on the steep, angled stairs. There was a mini-café below, along with twelve booths and three bathrooms. One of the bathrooms was free, so I let myself in, studying the shower set-up while I took care of business. It’d be weird to shower in this semi-public place, but if that was your only option, there were worse things.
    I was washing my hands when the announcement came over the train loudspeaker. “We’re approximately ten minutes from Fargo, North Dakota. If you are a smoker, this will be your time to indulge. The passenger exchange will last twenty minutes, all taking place in Cars Eight and Nine, so don’t go far!”
    I hurried out of the bathroom. I wanted to be back in my room when the train stopped so I could people watch again. When I reached the second level, I scanned around for Jed and didn’t see him. He also wasn’t back in his seat in Car 8, or anywhere to be found in Car 9. I walked more slowly through Sleeper Car 10 than I had on my previous two trips through it.
    Right inside the door was a tray of cookies that hadn’t been there before. They looked like they had raisins in them, but I grabbed one anyway, and then another for Mrs. Berns. The porter for this car had been smart enough to lock up or hide the champagne, but boxes of juice and a coffee tureen surrounded by cream and sugar were arranged behind the cookies. I’d grown up poor, so it was challenging for me to walk past free stuff without filling my pockets, but I consoled myself with the thought that these same freebies were probably available in my car.
    Sleeper Car 10, according to the pamphlet, was full of roomettes—four on one side and four on the other. These roomettes were supposedly even smaller than our cabin, if such a thing could be believed, and because of their smaller size, the aisle ran straight through the middle of the car rather than angling to the right like it did in our car. I’d tried to peek in these roomettes earlier, but all eight of them had either a closed curtain or a closed door with the window shade drawn.
    I was planning the best way to accidentally fall against one of the curtains so I could check out the spaces when the person in Roomette 4 saved me the trouble by stepping into the hall. He was maybe nineteen; old enough to grow a mustache but young enough for it to be sparse.
    He saw me, and his eyes did that weird light up thing they do when you recognize someone you haven’t seen in a while. “Hi!”
    My cheeks grew hot. I scoured my memory but couldn’t find any file on him. He