"Gee, thanks..." I say falsely as she hands me the empty frame.
I am seriously trying my hardest to seem appreciative, but I don't think I'm being as convincing as I should be.
But she's so happy. So I resume my optimistic expression to reciprocate her kindness.
"Do you like it?" she inquires. She's basically just requesting my conformation of something that I don't even think is true.
I pause.
"...Yeah. I really do!" I smile. Only with my lips. "Sure, it's...erm-"
"Awesome, right? It's an heirloom passed down from my great, great, great grandmother from when she snuck into the navy back in 1789. Man, that was a great story. Hey, I'm sure you remember when I told you about my aunt's friend who's really nice. The other day he brought us a sticky date pudding for us. He even...."
Okay, that's right where I zone out. I feel my eyes glaze over. How do I even get stuck in these situations? Bethania's stories are always so boring.
I zone back in to what she's saying just in case it's something important.
"So, uh....what do you reckon?"
Great, she asked me a question. Now I'm on the spot. "Uh...y- yeah! I mean, it's....great!" I say optimistically, as if I had been listening the entire time.
She responds with a brief blank expression, which then suddenly turns to one of disgust. "How dare you. You've crossed the line, Jamie."
Oops.
"Wha-"
She interrupts me and looks disappointed. "I don't really want to hear it...."
There's a pause. Is that my cue?
"But Bethania, I-"
"Stop calling me that! Get out!"
I don't protest. I get up from my seat on the carpet and promptly exit her room. I'll just go home. It's not worth it trying to apologise to her. She's just always so unreasonable! What does she want from me? To listen to her boring little tangents? To actually read her weekly letters about stupid dreams and random stuff nobody cares about?
I open the front door of her parents' house and stroll across to the bus stop. I pull out my bus timetable which has been folded down inside a bulging matchbox. It's the one Bethania gave me. I unleash the huge timetable from the bounds of the matchbox with some difficulty, until it springs out onto the footpath with some intense force. I wonder if she set it up so it would break my leg while in my pocket...?
I bend down and grasp as much of the glossy paper as humanly possible. My hands seem tiny compared to the colossal table. I scan over the page. Hmmm. Number, letters....they all mesh together. This timetable makes no sense. Aren't these things supposed to be telling me when the next bus is coming to pick me up?
Damnit. How does Bethania do it? She has to read these things every day.
Suddenly there's the faint sound of an engine. That must be the next bus. I don't even know what time it is, but I just know I need to be home at least ten minutes ago. Mum and Dad went out shopping today and they must be back home by now.
Here's that bus. I reach for my wallet and yank it out of my big hoodie pocket. With some difficulty, I finger around for the little green card as the door of the bus opens. I step up inside and bash the card into the reader on the handrail. Nothing. I press the card against the reader, this time more gently. With a satisfying 'boop', I shuffle awkwardly to the end of the bus, past all the lamos who sit near the front to be safe or something.
I'm just about to take up the big seat at the back of the bus when the bus begins to accelerate. A huge jolt causes me to surge back. I hit my head on the wall. Ouch.
I feel a little dizzy for a few seconds. My vision blurs. I hear ringing and indistinguishable noises. I am immoblised for a good twenty seconds.
After everything clears, I stand and stabilise myself in the back seat. A couple of the lamos peer at me with dumb expressions. Voices start to strike out at me.
"Are you okay?"
"What happened?"
"Do you need first aid?"
"I'll call a doctor."
Oh shut up, I think to myself. "Back off, dweebs." They don't seem to hear me.
"Leave me alone, you nerd creeps! I'm fine."
This time it seems to work. The lamos retreat with a snort...
