Coincidences

Act XXXVI

The phone call lasted throughout all of Reed's spare fifteen minutes. I kinda pity him, because, whatever the conference was all about, it must have been extremely boring.

Oh, yeah. At this very moment, I'm sitting alone at the fifth row of the school bus, right behind Zoey, who was at the second. Throughout the entire day, despite the constant chatter about our "little accident" (if anything, in my opinion, it wasn't "little"), she's been quiet, barely talking to anyone. They may say that it's the zap taking her toll, but to me, it's like she been pondering in her thoughts, immersed deep in its depths.

I don't like getting all poetic, but those were the only words that perfectly described her.

The Rimsons, as always, sat at the back, the rear end of the bus. It used to be the cool kids' spot, but now, it's the bully's spot. Ty had a VIP pass, though, whether he wanted it or not. the people who used to sit back there now sit near the exits, staring at Rocky like a nighthawk.

The bus driver, different from our usual one and, unlike him, quite full on Monster energy drinks, sped in an unsteady way across the urban area. He gulped down another can and turned up the radio to mute the havoc. Everyone complained to the driver, but he carried on, relentlessly stomping on the gas. If I were to ever be a witness to a highly possible accident, and trust me, I had enough of these "accidents", I'd say that his driving was the closest anyone can get to the word "illegal".

Zoey wasn't unfazed by this. She sat silently, her bag on her lap, along with her fuchsia, or pink, blazer, posing a proper posture, as if she came from a soirée (what is a soirée? I've never attended one.) Her mind was closed off. I couldn't help but stare and do nothing. She's troubled, undergoing something. I promised to help her, but how can I do that?

The bus jolted to a sudden stop, and, displayed from the windowed, was a large apartment, with up to 40 floors and underground parking. The numbers "729" shone by the entranceway, just above the mailboxes. The Rimsons' place.

As the tires started to smell like burning rubber, my phone alerted me with vibrations. I thought it was "Mr. Doc", but after a few milliseconds, I realized the mini sequence it emitted. Dad texted me, I checked it out, he said he's coming home late and that Mr. Reed says hi. They were at the same meeting, how nice. As I tapped the power button, someone tapped me by the shoulder.

Ty waved his hand towards the door, stating, "Hey, Martin, come on."

I already predicted Dad's absence, since it's not an unusual thing, so I planned this ahead of time. Clutching onto my backpack, I stood up and saw the bus driver glaring at me, as if I was delaying his little joyride. Sucks for you, stuntman.

I stepped out of the bus and watched it drift around the corner.