without further ado

v. i will survive

chapter five

but then i spent so many nights thinking, how you did me wrong
and i grew strong,and i learned how to get along.
-i will survive

♫

it’s a little bit funny/ this feeling inside

if the girls at dance even glanced at her ipod they would most likely fall into a fit of cardiac arrest (or confusion). she knew that, unless she suddenly stopped wanting to be a dancer, she could never show her ipod to them. apart from helena, helena was an exception. helena had been her sister-from-another-mister since susan had dripped caramel sauce onto hel’s dress when they were eight.

i’m not one of those who can easily hide

now they were the best of friends. helena was the only girl who could relate to susan when they were in school. helena didn’t have new clothes every week and didn’t go to private dance coaching nor was she able to go to the movies every saturday. and, even though helena was also a dancer, she didn’t care that the other girls looked down on her and her, albeit scarily spontaneous, view on everything, including life. she was impulsive, unconstrained, and above all, extemporaneous. she was helena, with her care-free attitude, fierce glare and black combat boots.

and susan loved her to absolute bits. even though their music tastes were polar opposites.  susan adored happy songs from artists like nevershosutnever! and elton john and disney and abba and movie soundtracks. while helena didn’t really think much of music. most of the time, when she was wearing earphones, it was to stop people from trying to strike a conversation (and gave her an excuse to ignore them), even though nothing would be playing and, really, she could hear them perfectly fine.

♫

if i was a sculptor/ but then again no

the bus really didn’t have many people. susan thought. barely any at all. the old lady at the front had gotten off first with a cheery smile at the driver in goodbye. she had also hollered rather rambunctiously at her… well, at the boy seated next to her.

“buh-bye clyde, see you tomorrow!”

clyde had blushed in absolute embarrassment at the old woman’s antics. “bye, ms holdeen,” he’d replied with a slight wave. hm, clyde, susan wondered, what an odd name.

when the bus pulled over at the bus stop outside bryn east boys the majority (meaning three) of the bus’ population had exited the bus, including clyde. because susan was seated in the aisle seat of the bus she had to move over so her legs and bag were facing the aisle, letting clyde squeeze through and leave the bus. the whole manoeuvring was an awkward ordeal, his bulky backpack had somewhat pressed against her shoulder quite roughly and a keyring of a clock had almost smacked her cheek. he finally stepped into the aisle, with him muttering a quiet thanks to her. but, she thought with wonder, one the other hand, when he passed her all she could smell was breakfast and mornings and, just, boy.

she kind of liked it.

“s’okay.”

then he left, stepped out of the bus and onto the patched, damp pavement with a hand in the air as a thanks towards the bus driver. he had left the bus with his mind still there, thinking and pondering over the girl who had sat next to him, smelling of coffee and a bit of wet dog. he kind of thought it was nice, sitting next to her, he meant, a music he could listen to when he forgot to bring his own.

♫

go on now, go, walk out the door, just turn around now

four songs later the bus had travelled a few streets, had caught stuck in a minor traffic jam and waited for pedestrians when susan finally got off the bus.