The Bus Stop

Prologue

  BEFORE YOU READ: note that this prologue is written in third person and Italics but all the other chapters will be written in FIRST PERSON with a NORMAL FONT, EXCEPT the chapters that are describing an event of the PAST. 

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The bus Clara Anderson usually took to get back home from middle school had rerouted.

  She had a sour look on her face as she tightened her grip on the blue straps of her backpack.  Today, out of all the 365 days in this year was the one day that she wouldn't make it home in time for her father's return.

  Truthfully, she was a little nervous to have her dad back home.  She had lived with her mother for almost an entire year without her father's existence and the thought of him coming back today was slightly overwhelming for her eleven year old self.  Even though, Clara was looking forward to seeing her dad again.

  She sighed as she averted her eyes onto the streets as she waited for some sense of where she was.  Clara knew that the bus was going a different way and she knew that it was going to lead her home one way or another, but she hadn't the single idea of how long it was going to take.

  The trees along the sidewalk hardly blurred for the bus was going at such a leisurely speed, typical for busses on hot afternoons in California.  It didn't bother Clara though, she liked that time slowed down and each moment felt gentle and elongated.  Despite the longing to get home in time, the bus ride was relaxing and soothing for her tense and exhausting thoughts. 

  Clara Anderson stared drowsily out the window until the public bus reached the end of the street and turned right instead of left, like it would have most Tuesday afternoons.    School had dragged, the minutes had slowed, the hours had stretched and Clara had spent most of her time fearing the day was going to last forever.

  It didn't help that not many eleven year old boys and girls talked to Clara at school, most of them were afraid of her.  They claimed her fiery, red and unruly  hair to resemble an untamed fire in the middle of the dark forrest.  Most of the kids were scared to talk to her because she wasn't approachable but Clara couldn't help it, she was never good at making friends.

  Letting out a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and let her head rest against the window of the bus.  It wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping positions - her neck hurt from having to stretch it the wrong way and her legs were too short to reach the ground of the bus - but Clara was too exhausted to care.

  She heard the sobbing before she saw it. In the third row from the front of the bus, there was a small boy shaking and squirming in his seat.

  It was Max Elliot from her science class.   Every time she saw him, he was either tripping over his big feet or washing his eyes out from the chemicals he had accidentally exploded right up into his face.  Not to mention, he was her neighbor. They weren't close though, they never seemed to talk.

  The smart thing to do, the kind thing to do was to close her eyes and ignore the boy's gentle sobs.  It wasn't any of her business.  If she interfered, it would only add another person to dislike her.

  Yes, that was the smart thing to do, forget the boy and ignore his idiotic self for the remaining time of the bus trip.

Clara did exactly that, she closed her eyes and ignored the boy.  She had even gone several moments before she grimaced and her eyes shot open.

  Clara Anderson was never one to do the smart thing and often, she lacked largely in respecting someone else's privacy.

  She grasped whatever scraps of courage she had left and channeled the sincerity she couldn't ignore for this boy before standing up and making her way to his row.  There weren't many people on this bus - an older boy with a skateboard, a girl a few years older than her from school and a man carrying a brief case and wearing a suit - making it easy for Clara to reach the boy and hesitantly, she sat down next to him.

  He began to cough loudly, his face reddening at the sudden choke of his sobs. Without thinking, Clara spoke up. "Oh my god. Are you okay? Do you need water?"

  He nodded.  Clara left for her bag and frantically began searching through it for her bottle of water.  She panicked as the boy kept coughing and she quickly continued to scour through the contents of her back pack.  She grinned when she felt the familiar feeling of her pink water bottle.  She passed it to the brown haired boy and watched as he unscrewed the lid and placed the rim to his mouth.  Several long gulps later and the boy's coughs has disappeared.

Clara continued to stare at Max as she waited for him to say thank you for sacrificing her favorite water bottle for him.  But when he opened his mouth, no sincerity or gratitude came out.

  "Why did you give me a pink water bottle?" He asked, staring at Clara as if she was from another planet.  When it was clear Clara wasn't going to respond,  the boy gestured to the water bottle in his hands.  "Pink is such a girly color."

  Clara blinked at him, unable to comprehend the boy's words.  She just rescued him from a coughing fit and he was complaining about the color of her own water bottle.  One thing was for absolute sure, she had not the single clue about middle school boys.

  "Pink is my favourite color," she defended, snatching the bottle back and placing it in her back pack.

  "Oh I'm sorry," Max started, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned over and whispered the next words into Clara's ears, "but I'm more of a green guy."

  She glanced up and met his eyes.  It was the feature she was always envious of about him.  They were as blue as the azure night sky, light settling in around the corners.  He had those thick dark eyelashes that framed his gorgeous eyes and if you looked carefully, you could see the faintest glimpses of dark specks surrounding his iris.

  Except there was no light in his eyes today.  They were dark and cold and they lacked largely in their blue color, pure darkness had taken over.  Tears stains painted the skin below his eyes and they took away the joy that usually filled them.

"You've got a lot of nerve," Clara started, tilting her head to further analyse the boy as If answers would appear on his skin, "I respect that."

Max grinned at her, "why hello then, new best friend."

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Hey, hi, hello! (This authors note is important)

Welcome to my new story, I feel like I'm saying that a lot lately.

Basically, I have a problem. I have an idea for a story, I spend weeks planning it and then I write the first ten or so chapters and I stop to move onto a new idea. It's an endless cycle and I'm still learning how to break it but honestly, if you have ANY feedback, don't hesitate to comment because it might just be the motivation I need.

As of for this story, the plan is to update every week and finish it with a satisfying grin on my face within however many months or years it takes me. But that's the plan, so I make no promises with what the reality of it may be.

You might have noticed, this chapter was written in third person. And that's because I plan on writing chapters from the past in third person. I don't know if there will be any more like this or not but the normal, present day chapters will be in FIRST person. If I made no sense, feel free to ask me again :) And this prologue is short, but the actual chapters should be longer :D

Also, one more thing before I go and stop rambling (I tend to do that a lot) I am not so great with past, present and future tense. So if you're reading this and you're completely confused with my wording because I switch between my tenses, please tell me. Honestly, I'd love you forever if you could help pick up on that or any other obvious mistakes.

Well that's all for now and thank you if you read my long author note, my future ones will hopefully not be as long.

~ Katy :) ( oh yeah, if you didn't know my name is Katy, but you're welcome to call me Kit or Kat or whatever else tickles your fancy and is PG.)