Classes dragged on and seemed like forever. I hate most of my teachers. Especially Mr.Hawkins, the social studies teacher. He was old and grouchy and smelled like tuna. I'm pretty sure he doesn't bathe and I could see food crumbs in his scraggly moustache and beard. Also, may I add, he needs to wash and tame that beard because it looks like an afro coming out from his chin. Anyway, we headed to the cafeteria and sat at a table in the far corner. I ordered lunch and ended up with a stale ham and mustard sandwich with a bruised apple. It also came with a crumpled juice box that's half empty. It also isn't pulp-free. Delicious. Honestly, this school is so outdated. Everything is old. The building, the food....even most of the teachers. Someone even said that there isn't even a principal because their last one had a heart attack at the school two months ago. He was 94 years old. Jeez.
My stomach fluttered as I tasted the sour mustard on the processed ham and wheat bread. I set the sandwich down and didn't even give the apple a second glance. I'm not eating that food. Marilyn pulled out a small dish and pried off the top, revealing a small corner of cold pizza. I had skipped breakfast due to the fact that my stomach was upset form the lack of sleep I got. Now I have no lunch and I get to watch my new friend eat pizza in front of me. This day is going just swell. Soon enough, the lunch bell rang and the day was done. Kids pooled out of the school and boarded onto their assigned buses. I had no idea which one I had to take. The principal...who is apparently dead, was supposed to explain that. Shrugging, I stepped into the first bus in the back and smiled lightly at the driver. He was buff and a little fat to be honest. He grumbled and ignored me.
"Um, excuse me? Does this bus go onto Vind Street?" I questioned. He glanced at me and shook his head.
"You better hurry up, kid. I'm leaving in a second and if this ain't your bus, beat it." He shot in a raspy voice. Blushing, I retreated off the bus and heading to the next one up. This bus driver was a younger lady with wild curly hair and large glasses that sat on the end of her nose. I began to ask if this was my bus, but the driver didn't give me even one look before she closed the squeaky doors behind me and started the engine. I worriedly looked back at the seats. I saw the bright shine of Marilyn and Adam's lightning blond hair. Marilyn seemed to notice me and she waved, gesturing me to come back. I shuffled down the aisle and sat one a seat next to her and Adam.
"Is this my bus?" I asked. Marilyn shook her head.
"Nope." Marilyn jabbed her finger towards the bus idling behind them with the fat driver. "That'd be your bus."
I sighed and growled, turned to give a dirty look at the driver through the back window.
"That jerk told me that he didn't go down Vind Street." I hissed. Marilyn shrugged and stuck her tongue out at him. He noticed her and gave her an unkind hand gesture including his middle finger. I giggled and returned the gesture with a sweet smirk. He turned away with his eyes brows furrowed and the buses started moving forward.
"So..if this isn't my bus, where will I get off?" I demanded. Marilyn rolled her eyes, grinning.
"Duh, our house." She invited. My nervousness faded and excitement took its place.
"Ok, cool." I nodded.
