Love in a Bottle [AATC One-Shots]

Sharing Earbuds (Theonor)

"The once dull, gray world outside now appears much more vibrant and colorful..."

(Eleanor's POV)

"Bye, girls!" I yell to my friends, my voice echoing across the field as I wave them goodbye. I head towards the bus loop. The placid wind swirls through my lemon blonde pigtails whirling behind me as I hurry in my steps.

There is only one after-school bus, so I begin to worry that my bus will leave without me. Soccer practice took longer than it usually does, and I have to get home immediately to work on a history assignment that is due at four thirty-one today. It's a very specific time, but our teacher is peculiar and he likes to make things... difficult.

I barely arrive at the bus, and I find myself panting and out of breath. Not only because I'd rushed here, but also because we'd done a handful of running drills during practice.

The bus driver allows the doors of the bus doors to swing open, and I ascend the small steps. I observe my surroundings, and an exasperated expression comes across my face for a split second.

The bus is filled with those noxious-smelling guys who don't take showers and a few girls who seldom put on deodorant. When they lift their arms to stretch, you can see the wet spots from their armpit and sweat that seeps through their shirts.

"Eugh," I mutter to myself, pinching my nose but trying to play it off as if I'm scratching it. I don't want to be seen as rude, but those same people have nasty attitudes.

As I walk down the aisle, I notice those same unhygienic people giving me dirty looks; Every angle I glance, I'm receiving unwanted side eyes, and their noses are scrunched.

What are you looking at? I think, passing them in the aisle. I hate those types of people that are rude for no reason, it makes no sense.

It's hard to find a seat because each seat I could choose comes with repercussions: dirty seats with old gum, people with a horrible odor, broken seatbelts, and more. It's always a hard pick.

I have a preferred place to sit, and in my mind, I call it 'the sweet spot.' Nothing is wrong with it, and everyone somehow forgets about it. It's the second row in the back, and I decide that is where I will sit. I lift my head to take a peek if anyone is sitting there, and I don't see anyone.

As I advance in my steps, I notice someone is sitting there. I hadn't seen them before because their head was covered by the musty, crusty, dusty, rusty seat in front of him.

I approach the seat and take my backpack off, resting it below and in front of my seat. I sit down, and my hand rises to my pigtails, tightening each individually since they became loose from the wind. As I do so, my arm accidentally brushes against a green jacket. I apologize, but when I turn my head, I recognize the shade of the color. It's basil green, just like the jacket of my best friend, Theodore.

I lean closer, attempting to get a better view of his face to see if it's him. He's looking out the window, so it's difficult to tell. I look down, and I see his cookie-imprinted backpack by his feet, and that's when I instantly know that it's him.

My lips quirk into a friendly smile as I greet him, "Hey, Theo!"

I don't get an answer, and he's still observing the bright lights of cars out the window passing each other in a blur. I raise my eyebrows, confused. That's when I notice that he's wearing earbuds in each ear, and that's probably why he didn't realize I was here.

I put my hand over his shoulder and he jerks in his seat. His head snaps in my direction as he shrieks; I swear for a split second that his body left his seat, which is kind of funny, but also cute.