Buses. (A Christian Novelli Fan Fiction)

I. Am. Absolutely. Freezing. I try to snuggle into my thin sweater even more, but it's not enough. I suppose I should have brought along a hat to keep my hair dry, but no. My mom claimed it wasn't going to rain. Why do I always believe her? Why did she think it wasn't going to rain? What is she, the weather woman or something?

The cold drops of drizzle begin to make contact with the back of my neck. Maybe a sweater with a hood would have been nice, too. Gosh, where's the bus? I lean forward, pull out my phone, and press the home button. 11:43. It pretty much gets here at 11:45 a.m. almost everyday. Why am I here, sitting in the soft rain as the storm begins to build up it's strength, waiting for the bus? Oh yeah, because I don't have a car.

By the time the bus roars down the street to where I'm sitting, I'm already becoming numb to the cold. I stand up slowly as the bus doors wheeze open. The bus drivers calls out the stop, and only one person gets off. After I pay the fee, I turn and nearly cry. Once again, nearly all of the seats are taken. Why does everyone take this bus?

My eyes wander onto every seat until I find the only one that's empty. Wow. Only one seat. And it's beside a cute guy. Maybe I should just trudge through the rain and go back to my house. But the bus driver already closes the door and orders me to go find a seat.

I slowly walk down the aisle, trying to see if only one other seat is open. Every other seat is occupied. The guy and I suddenly lock eyes. He glances down at the empty seat beisde him. Does he have something on the seat? Is he saving it for someone? Oh no. But he suddenly picks up a gray backpack from the seat and sets it down on the floor. It's now officially open. It's now officially my seat.

We exchange tiny smiles as I awkwardly plop down onto the seat beside him. Then he turns and stares out the window. I try to look out the window too, but it seems kind of weird, so I just scan through my phone. Tumblr is a good place to start. I always have too much stuff on my dash. Maybe I should unfollow a couple of people. Ha ha, no.

His backpack makes tiny noises that no one seems to care about except him. He fidgets until he finally reaches down and snatches it off the ground and places it on his lap. I pretend not to notice and just continue casually looking through my phone.

Would it be bad if I just talk to him? It'll be a change from my usual silent and shy self. I can be brave. I can talk to strangers. I can talk to innocent-looking strangers that happen to be pretty cute with green eyes. I steal a tiny glance in his direction. I immediately regret it when we make eye contact. We both turn away quickly.

He opens up his backpack and digs through it until he finds his cellphone. Now we're both looking through our phones casually, using up our battery just to pretend we're cool. My mom suddenly decides to call me when I'm reading a text post. My ringtone rips through the silent air, causing some people to turn around. My face immediately turns red as I answer my phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey. Did you take an umbrella?"

"No. You said I didn't need one."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"Hale, I didn't say that. Why would I say that?" I roll my eyes. She always uses this trick on me, and most of the time it actually works. She makes me feel guilty for "thinking I said something she would obviously never say". Blah blah blah.

"I would say that beacuse you did say that, Mom." She's silent.

"Just pick up the cake and come back home."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you, too." she replies. I hang up and put my phone away. When I glance over at the guy, he's slightly smiling down at his phone.

The bus ride is silent between us. We don't say anything to each other, which is disappointing. Right when I'm about to get off the bus, though, I feel like saying something to him. Words fail me at the exact same time. When the bus driver stops where I'm supposed to get off, the guy beside me leans down and grabs his backpack that he shoved onto the floor a couple of minutes ago.

Is he going to get off at this stop, too? My question is answered when I exit the bus and see him walking along behind me. When we step out into the cool air, he walks from behind me to a couple of feet away from me. He looks over in my direction, we make eye contact for maybe the twentieth time that afternoon, then we travel on to our seperate paths.

Man, I should have talked to him. Oh well. It's not like I'm ever going to see him again.