Putting on Airs

Déjà Who?

Chapter 2

Sliding onto the shallow bench seat of the city bus, I dig into my bag to pull out the pair of jeans I keep in there for days I have college classes before we get to what I've dubbed "the grabber's stop", and pull them on so I can remove my cheer skirt. I learned straight off that to have bare legs with him around only invites his grabby-grabby, petty-petting. If I didn't know for a fact that he isn't doing these things in a sexual manner, I would probably have punched him the first time he touched me.

Okay, so I'm not as violent as I'm making myself out to be. I would have wanted to punch him, but most likely would have simply sat behind the driver in the single, out-facing seat. As Grady the grabber takes a seat behind me, I exhale happily. On the stop after Grady's, his care worker climbs up the bus steps and immediately meets my eyes.

"All good, Sang?" Joey asks as he wends his way down the bus aisle.

I offer a reserved-if-friendly smile, and nod at Joey. He alone knows how uncomfortable my first meeting with Grady was. Joey had entered the bus at his stop all those months ago to find Grady petting my leg. Once Joey explained that Grady's caseworker was attempting to integrate him into society, I almost felt bad for unknowingly presenting Grady with a new tactile experience he just had to explore; almost. I don't do well with physical contact at the best of times.

We approach the stop in front of the community college, and I quickly exit the bus so that I can get across the campus in time for my next class. As soon as I enter the correct building, I dig through my bag for the oversized t-shirt I had packed so that my classmates don't see my cheer uniform shell. With the shirt halfway over my face, I don't see the group of young men walking down a perpendicular hallway on a trajectory that will intersect my own.

I can't be blamed for not noticing them, though. They move on silent feet. Had I had my shirt situated already, I could have at least felt the air shift, or smelled them coming. Weird, sure, but true. What happens next will go down in history as one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I somehow manage to step between the walking legs of the boy closest, halting his forward momentum like a stick in the spokes of a bicycle tire.

From there, it's like a disturbing game of human dominoes. I only manage a pained squeak as me and four others tumble to the floor in a pile of twined and twisted limbs. The only saving grace, in a situation lacking in any form of grace, is that I'm not at the bottom of the dogpile.

"What the fuck, Luke?" a low voice barks out from somewhere below me.

"It's not my fault. I was tripped! It was a setup, I say! A conspiracy!" the young man I accidentally tripped says playfully.

"What are you waiting for? Get off us!" another voice grumbles.

"No shit! That better be a fucking elbow jabbing me in the side, or one of you fuckers is going to get hurt," a low voice almost shouts.

The pile of limbs shifts further and the movement is the impetus needed to unfreeze my own muscles. I yank my previously abused ankle from the pile and stand up, searching for my backpack on the ground while the men untangle themselves and stand as well. I finally spot my bag on the shoulder of one of the boys, him mistaking it for his own.

"So you're the tricky tripper. If you wanted to meet me, you had only to say hi, Cupcake."

I look up and spot Luke for the second time today. I must look confused as he just laughs some more. I shake my head and gesture to the giant with dark hair and eyes and an even darker scowl.

"May I have my backpack, please?" I ask quietly, trying not to visibly cringe under his glare.

"The fuck, dude? Didn't you see it's pink? I'm all for you expanding your wardrobe color pallet, but that shit just doesn't suit your surly ass," the lean boy with bi-colored hair says with a smirk.