Apart

Bus Fight

January 14th
Emma
I slipped on my long TØP hoodie and black leggings, finished with tarnished old sneakers I'd had since sixth grade, which of course had been way to big then, but my mom said I wasn't getting new sneakers until high school. Money was tight.
It still is.
I quickly ran a brush through my blonde-red ombré hair that I had dyed myself, surprisingly by using some old dye my mom was throwing out. I tied it up in a quick, messy bun and ran down the short hallway, my bag in hand.
I took the cold piece of toast mom had saved me and marched out the door, down the street, and just caught the bus.
I always sat in the front seat, alone, listening to music and watching pedestrians and cars move by.
Oh, if you don't know, I live in San Francisco. Yeah, that place full of drunks and panhandlers.
In the day it's not half that bad, but when the sun sets dogs bark, trash cans tip over, gangs can be heard from the alleyways, and drunks stumble down the street.
Then again, that's only in certain parts of the city, such as Tenderloin.
Anyways, I hopped into the seat and started to play my music, putting my ear buds into my ears.
The bus driver always plays this trash country music, so I compete to keep that away from my ears. With that decision, I turn up my music's volume, until it was blasting.
I listen to TØP, Melanie Martinez, basically any good rappers, stuff like that. I jumped as my phone buzzed.
"What's wrong, you scared, Jelly?" One of Luke's friends asked.
"No, I just turned around and saw your face." I replied, gripping my fists.
"What's with the fists?" He raised his hands innocently, a smirk creepy across his sly face. "What did I do?"
I whirled around. "What's with the fists? You wanna see what's with the fists?"
"Your gonna fight me?" He laughed. "I'd like to see this one."
"Then get your jackass over here." I challenged.
"Come back here, bad girl." He chimed.
I gritted my teeth and growled, "Careful whatcha wish for." With that I left my phone and bag, hopping over the seats.
He punched me in the stomach as soon as I reached him.
I quickly uppercut his chin, releasing just a bit of blood. He grabbed my foot, twisting it. I gasped in pain, and grappled for his neck, holding him in a headlock. He let go of my foot and struggled to get out of my clutches. The boy did so by reaching up and pulling my hair. With that, I pushed him to the ground and socked him in the stomach, wiping my hands and beginning to hop back to my seat.
The kids cheered me on. I could barley hold back my blush.
Luckily, our clueless bus driver had somehow not seen any of this, or decided getting us in trouble was to much work.
I couldn't help but feel pride welling inside me. Me: 1 fuckboy: 0