The Benefits of Public Transportation - Yumikuri

Chapter 1 - 552 days ago

It was grimy and smelly and covered with gum and cigarette butts but it was where I sat every Tuesday through Saturday at 7:05, waiting for the Green Line downtown. The lovely bus stop on 4th and Maple. Clicking on my iPhone, I checked the time. 7:11. It was 3 minutes late. I fished around my backpack and pulled out a pack of Marlboros and a lighter, adding my own smokey odor to the already rank smell of a busy city.

I sat and smoked, ignoring the businessmen and early morning perverts until 7:15, when the bus finally showed. Dropping it and grinding it out with my heel, my cigarette joined the others practically paving the sidewalk. I shouldered my black backpack and climbed up the dirty bus stairs. Everything was as it always was, and it looked like another average day, until the bus driver closed the door. As she began to pull away, a small blonde girl started yelling.

"Hey! Wait! Please wait!"

Out of breath and red-faced, a girl who couldn't have been more than 5 foot nothing skipped up the steps and flashed a smile at the bus driver, handing her a $5. She walked down the aisle as the bus lurched away, holding onto the backs of seats and apologizing to the people looking pissed. To my displeasure, she choose to occupy the empty seat next to mine. I popped in a stick of gum to cover the smell of smoke.

She smiled at me, and didn't seem fazed when I didn't return the gesture, instead sticking pink earbuds in her ears. After a bit, I took out my phone and scrolled through my Twitter feed in an attempt to avoid the awkward silence.

"Stop approaching. 4th and Main. " said an automated woman's voice. Several passengers pulled the yellow cord, and the bus slowed jerkily, doors opening. The girl took out an earbud and glanced up as people filed out of their seats and down the aisles. She had the volume way up, and I could hear My Chemical Romamce playing faintly.

She might not look the part, but she has good taste in music.

And so, for some reason, maybe because she had chosen to sit next to me, maybe because she was blaring MCR, maybe because she was cute, I decided to speak up.

"My Chemical Romance?" Worded like a statement, voiced like a question.

She glanced up, looking confused for a moment, before grinning. Fuck. Now she's going to talk, and you're going to have to make conversation. Damnit Ymir. Why can't you just keep it shut like you should?

It was too late.

"Yeah! You know them?" She looked pleasantly surprised, and offered an earbud to me. I took it cautiously, and swabbed it with my shirt before popping it in my ear.

"Hold on, let me play my favorite one." She murmured to herself, already scrolling through what appeared to be a long Spotify playlist. After reaching her selection, my ear filled with piano notes. As Gerard began singing, I laughed.

"Why is this one your favorite? It's so sad."

"Well yeah, but it's so meaningful. And good!" Smiling at me, she began to sing quietly. "..watch my back, and keep the blade.... " She laughed, pulling the earbuds out of each of our respective ears, pausing the song and wrapping them around her phone, which she shoved in her jeans pocket.

"My stops right up next." She said by way of explanation.

"Mine too, actually. Going to work."

"Me too! I never got your name, by the way."

"....I'm Ymir. "

"My name's Historia. But most people call me Krista. Hey- "

"Stop approaching. Cedar and College."

Both Krista and I tugged the yellow cord, and stood as the bus pulled over to the side of the road. About 5 assorted business men and joggers boarded, but we were the only ones getting off. I only had to walk two storefronts down to Starbucks, but I watched as Krista jaywalked, nimbly avoiding cars and ignoring the sign that said doing just that could get you a $200 ticket. She entered the Forever 21, waving to someone as she did.

I didn't feel this situation necessitated a sigh or a scoff, so I exhaled powerfully out my nose. I wasn't sure if it was directed at myself, for not sticking to my don't-talk-to-others policy or at the girl, for being so nice to complete strangers. Either way, I had to get to work, so I walked down the street, entering Starbucks. The door jingled in my wake as I maneuvered around the line to the Employees Only door.

Once inside it, I pulled on my green apron and pinned my name tag to it, taking my place at the register. A girl who was texting even as she asked for her drink ordered a grande Vanilla Bean Frapé with extra whip. An aging woman in a pinstriped pantsuit ordered a tall Carmel macchiato. A guy in sweats and a college hoodie ordered a plain coffee. The list went on and on. By the time my shift ended at 2:00, I had mostly likely made or took down over 75 orders. But it was relatively easy and it payed the bills, so I wasn't complaining.

Once I had hung up my apron and grabbed my backpack, I left the shop, glancing for a moment to a store across the street. But no short blonde girls emerged, and I shook my head, not even sure why I looked for her.

I rode the bus alone on the way home.