A train rattled by, blowing scraps of paper aimlessly in the air. Conner gripped his bag tightly in his hand, waiting for his train to pull into the station. A strange feeling came over him and he suddenly walked away from the platform. He ran up the stairwell, past the crowd of people waiting to board the trains. He ran through the terminal, pushing various people aside. He didn't know where he was running, or why. He wasn't an impulsive person. Conner reached the departing train just as the doors began to close. He thrust a hand in the doorway, stopping the doors. He managed to climb into the train, looking around the empty compartment. He slid into a seat at random, stowing his bag underneath the faded leather seats. Conner looked out the window, taking a deep breath and settling back into his seat. He rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what had compelled him to skip school. Time passed quickly, it could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours. The train slowly idled to a stop, leaving Conner to look around at the snowy landscape. He grabbed his bag and climbed off the train, looking around the deserted station. The train sped away, his coat rustling in the wind. He slowly made his way over to a payphone, reaching into his coat pockets for some loose change. He should call his teacher and let her know he wasn't coming in today.

"Hey, it's Conner. I won't be at school today, I have to go down to visit my grandfather. Yes, he's fine, just under the weather. He needs someone to drive him back from the hospital. Okay, you too." Conner said, hanging up the payphone.

He stepped out of the booth and trudged down to the edge of the beach. It was freezing cold and the gusts of wind blew his hat off, sending it flying. He turned around to look for it, but it had been carried away, concealed in dense fog. Conner sat down on the steps of the beach, opening up his notebook. There were at least ten pages that had been haphazardly ripped out. Weird, he didn't remember doing that. He took the cap off his pen, starting to jot down his thoughts. He sat there for a while, just writing while the wind blew his blond hair in all directions. Conner didn't mind, he just stared out at the sandy beaches.

He replaced his pen's cap, putting it back into his coat pocket, along with his notebook. He walked out onto the sandy dunes, grabbing a broken reed and digging in the sand, not really looking for anything, just messing around. Sand's overrated, it's just tiny little rocks. Conner stood up, dusting the sand off of his pants. He threw the reed into the water, watching it soar into the ocean with a satisfying splash.

He looked off into the distance, where a girl was trudging across the beach, her pink and blue highlights standing out like a multicolored beacon in a sea of dull earth tones. Conner watched her make her way down the beach, hands in her pockets, staring out at the crashing waves. If only he could meet someone new. The chances of that happening were somewhat diminished, seeing that he was incapable of making eye contact with a girl he didn't know. She walked closer and Conner turned away, trudging farther down the beach.

He came across an old deserted building, with an empty parking lot. Conner peered in the windows, but couldn't make anything out. The brick building looked like it might have been a school once, but he doubted anyone still used the building. The roof was falling in and the walls were crumbling. Maybe he should get back together with Hazel. She was nice, nice was good. She'd loved him. Conner walked away from the building, running his hand across the railing.

He made his way to a little cafe, shaking the sand out of his shoes before he went in. He slid into a booth, where the warm seats were a stark contrast to the bitter cold outside. He reached into his coat for his notebook and pen, noticing that the girl from the beach was sitting a few tables away, highlights and all. Conner looked closer, noticing that her blond hair seemed to be natural, like his. She cheerfully ordered coffee, opening up a notebook of her own and writing something down. She had a leather bound book sitting next to her, its pages old and faded. She looked up to see Conner looking at her and raised her cup in a mock toast with a smile. Conner blushed, quickly looking back at his notebook. Why does he fall in love with every woman he sees who shows him the least bit of attention? He finished the last dregs of his cup, paying the bill and walking out into the frosty air.

He trudged back to the train station, standing aimlessly by the benches, waiting for the train to pull into the station. He noticed the same girl walking towards the station, blowing on her hands to keep herself warm. She looked up and stopped, recognizing Conner from the cafe. Conner turned away, pretending to stare at the movie theatre across the street. He moved towards a bench, putting it between him and the girl. She looked at Conner, moving closer and waving. Conner smiled, quickly waving back, nervously diverting his attention back to the ground, kicking at a loose pebble. The train pulled into the station, almost completely empty. A few people climbed off, but for the most part, it seemed like nobody was headed to the beach in this cold weather. Conner climbed aboard, sitting in the same seat as he had before. The same girl sat down a few rows away, facing Conner. She dug through her bag, briefly glancing at Conner.

"Hi." She said, switching her bag to her other hand.

Conner looked up, surprised.

"I'm sorry?" Conner asked, slightly confused.

"I just said hi." She said, smiling.

"Oh, hi. Hello." Conner said, awkwardly waving at her.

She got up from her seat, walking over to where Conner was sitting.

"You care if I sit closer?" She asked, pointing towards the row directly in front of him.

Conner shrugged his shoulders, moving his bag out of the way and stowing it under the seats again. She slid into the row in front of him, turning around and facing him so she could talk to him directly.

"How far are you going?" She asked.

"Uh, Rockville Center." Conner replied, staring down at his notebook.

"Me too!" She exclaimed.

"Wow, really?" Conner said.

"What are the odds?" She said, glancing down at his notebook.

They sat there for a minute, silence filling the compartment. Conner looked around the compartment, desperately trying to think of something to say.

"Do I know you?" She asked, thoughtfully rubbing her chin.

Conner looked up at her quizzically, studying her face. He didn't recognize her, but her face seemed familiar.

"Do you ever get coffee at Kinnaman's?" She asked.

Conner nodded, sitting back in his chair.

"That's it. I've seen you there, man. I've been working there for like, five years now." She said.

"Huh... I feel like I would have remembered you." Conner muttered thoughtfully.

"My name's Breanne Clementine Campbell, by the way." Bree said.

"I'm Conner." Conner responded, shaking her hand.

"Hi Conner. No jokes about my name." Bree said.

"I don't know any jokes about your name." Conner said, putting away his pen.

"Like the song." Bree said.

"I don't know any songs about Breanne." Conner said, shaking his head.

"Breanne? No, Clementine. What are you, nuts?" Bree asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's been suggested." Conner said.

"Huckleberry Hound. Oh my darling, oh my darling? Ringing any bells?" Bree asked playfully.

Conner smiled, shaking his head.

"Jesus, are you gonna make me sing it? Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine. You are gone and lost forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine." Bree sang.

"You have an amazing voice, but no, I'm sorry. I've never heard of Huckleberry Hound." Conner answered.

"Well, I prefer to go by Bree anyway." Bree said.

"That's also a great name. It means honorable, right?" Conner asked.

"Although it hardly fits. I'm a backstabbing pathological liar." Bree said, with a smile.

"See, I wouldn't think that about you." Conner said.

"Why wouldn't you think that about me?" Bree asked.

"I don't know... you seem nice." Conner said.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to trust strangers?" Bree said, laughing.

"You don't feel like a stranger." Conner said thoughtfully.

Bree's eyes widened and they stared at each other until the train came to a lurching stop, bringing them back to their senses. Bree reached into her bag, pulling out a piece of a napkin and handed it to Conner.

"See you around, Conner." Bree said.

She got up from her seat, grabbed her bag, and climbed off the train. Conner looked down at the piece of napkin she had handed him, looking at the scrap of paper she'd given him. Scribbled hastily on the paper was her phone number. For the first time in a long while, Conner smiled.