People began to jostle around me, lining up to board the train.

Maybe I can slip on without anyone noticing

I watched as people handed their tickets to the conductor, a scraggly, bearded old man. I chuckled to myself. The fancy tickets looked out of place amongst the decrepit old station. Almost like me, but at least I blended in a little better.

I got in line in front of a couple of boys, keeping my head low.

Please don't notice me, please don't notice me......

One of the boys turned around and tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up and was slightly taken aback. I mean, I had never been one of those girls who wore tight clothing, or threw myself at guys, but..........damn. This guy was HOT. After I was finished making this observation, my conscience decided to tap me on the shoulder. And by that I mean, my conscience slapped me in the face and yelled:

"What are you DOING?! This guy is clearly out of your league and have you forgotten that you are, I don't know, a RUNAWAY?"

"Yeah, but I'm a teenage girl runaway." I argued back

"That makes it even worse."

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Uh-oh. The guy was waving his hand in front of my face. Saying "Are you okay?" I felt myself blush. "Yeah." I snapped, slapping his hands down and taking a step back. I don't know why, but this guy was making me feel really annoyed. Sadly, he was also extremely good-looking. Seriously. He looked like a model. Blond hair, hazel eyes, defined jaw line. Ugh. Rich pretty-boy. Kill me now.

"Are you sure? Cause' you spaced out a little there for a second." He said, looking at me intently, as though there were some evidence of mental disease on my face.

"I said I'M FINE."

I was in no mood to put up with this guy right now, no matter how good looking. He narrowed his eyes at me. Was this guy not used to being argued with? He's more spoiled than I thought.

One of his friends stepped in, and put a hand on the guy's shoulder. He seemed to calm down a little, but still looked pretty pissed.

His friend turned to me, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Hello, I'm Thomas." He said, holding out his hand to shake. I shook it. "I'm Elena..." I said cautiously. I mean, these guys looked pretty high-end. Shouldn't they be able to afford a better station?

"Nice to meet you Elena." Thomas said. He said my name El-ay-nah. It sounded funny. I might have giggled. Thomas was tall and broad shouldered, probably in his mid thirties, judging by his scruffy beard and wispy mustache. He looked like a dad. Or, how I imagined a dad would look anyways.

"And this," Thomas said, giving the boy a pointed look, "Is Nathan." The boy nodded stiffly. What's his problem??

"And I'm JAMES THE AMAZING AVOCADO!"

Said a black haired boy, sliding forward on his knees, doing jazz hands.
Nathan shook his head, muttering something about "Immaturity" while Thomas ruffled the boy's hair affectionately.

I laughed. From behind me I heard an "Ahem."
Oh. I was at the front of the line. Crap.