School Bus Graveyard

Chapter 3

-2 weeks ago-

"Birdy! The bus will be here in 10!" Logan calls from outside my room.

"Kay, thanks, Logs!"

I run around my room, searching for my archery bag. I found a range to walk to after school and am determined to appear as normal as possible. I dig through another box, which is evidence of my recent move here. I grin when I finally find the black bag that holds all my swim stuff. I open it, quickly look through it, and nod when I see everything in there.

"Bridgette! Are you almost ready," My grandma calls.

I grab both bags, pausing at my mirror to check my reflection. My short brown hair is sticking out like porcupine quills. I take my hairbrush and rake it through it, smoothing it out. I shrug at my reflection, determining it is good enough. I run downstairs, almost ramming into my grandpa.

"Sorry, Grandpa," I say.

"All good kiddo,"

"Birdy, come on. Bus will be here any minute," Logan says, his eyes anxious.

"Sorry, Logs. Had to find my archery stuff," I say, joining him.

He shrugs as he opens the front door. Down the road, I see the yellow nose of the bus. I follow Logan down the gravel pathway, chewing the inside of my cheek. I moved a lot as a kid, so I got used to being the new kid on the block. It doesn't always make it easy, though.

The bus rolls its way down the street, stopping infront of a few more houses before stopping in infront of Logan and me. I follow Logan up the metal stairs, immediately assaulted by the loud chatter filling the air. I grimace, following Logan to a seat.

Logan lets me in first and slides in next to me. He pulls out a book from his bag, and his attention is immediately taken off the bus. I reach into my pocket and pull out my motion sickness bands, slipping them around my wrists before leaning my head back. My eyes study the domed roof above me, determined not to throw up on the bus.

"Hi!" A chipper voice comes from the right. I peek over and see a blonde boy talking to a redhead who has sat infront of them.

"Gah!" The poor girl shouts, slamming herself against the side of the bus.

"Is that your house? What's up with the whole 'Bus Graveyard' thing?" The boy asks.

Out of curiosity, I sit up and peer out of his window. In the house's front yard, the bus is stopped infront of a bright red bus with 'School Bus Graveyard' spray painted on the side. To be honest, it is kind of an odd thing to have it on your lawn.

"It's a junkyard with used buses..." The redhead says, her green eyes wide.

"That's it?" The boy says.

"Yeah?"

"Well, that's disappointing," I can't help but slightly agree with the boy. I lean my head back as the bus lurches to a start.

"I was hoping for some kind of lore or paranormal jazz,"

Silence lapses between the two, and I let my brain tune into the idle chatter of the others on the bus as I count the number of screws in the ceiling. I continue to chew on the inside of my cheek, unable to shake the feeling that something will go wrong.

"Anyway," The boy's voice starts up again.

"I'm Aiden!" I look over at the three people. The girl seems slightly irritated but is attempting to be polite.

"And that's my cousin Ben. We just moved here a week or so ago from Virginia. Can't remember what town it was, though,"

I smile at the fact that I'm not the only new one in this town.