A Junkie's Journey

Eight

TW — Sexual Assault
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Tristan was on the school bus he rode home every day after school, but today, the atmosphere was different. Every year on the last day of the school year, his whole middle school spent the day at an amusement park. In order to stay after 2:20pm, the time the school day was usually over, a parent had to sign a permission slip. If a parent didn't sign a permission slip, the student took a school bus back to their neighborhood.
Tristan and another boy, Jason, were the only two people on the bus that day. The ride to their neighborhoods took around an hour, so they had a lot of time to kill.
Tristan was on the bus before Jason. Every day, he sat in the same spot — the second to last seat in the left row, and always a window seat.
When Jason came onto the bus, Tristan hurriedly looked down at his phone, pretending to text one of his friends. Jason sat on the right aisle of the bus, two diagonal seats in front of Tristan's. Jason was on his phone, chewing gum — his lips made a smacking sound.
The bus started moving; Jason, currently somewhat standing in his seat, jolted. When Jason caught himself, he faced the back of the bus, both hands gripping the back of the seat, leading him and Tristan to make eye contact.
Tristan knew Jason's type: forward, cocky, and a player, so he wasn't surprised when he felt Jason slide up next to him.
Jason stared at Tristan, which made him uncomfortable. Tristan kept staring at his phone to hint at Jason that he didn't want to talk, but he guessed he didn't make it obvious enough — Jason inched closer, taking a peek at Tristan's phone.
After a while of Tristan tapping at his home screen with no apps open, Jason finally asked, "What're you doing?"
Tristan smelled mint, and the smacking sound Jason was making was louder; all of it was putting him on edge. "Nothing."
"Why won't you look at me?" Tristan looked up at Jason, and it was a mistake. Jason was smirking at him before he even made eye contact.
After maybe twenty minutes of Tristan hurting Jason's ego, Jason ran out of options to capture Tristan's attention. He put his sweaty hand on Tristan's thigh, making Tristan freeze.
Jason slowly slid his hand up Tristan's leg. Tristan still smelled mint and heard the smacks of Jason's lips, but they were becoming distant.
Jason moved Tristan's shorts out of the way.

The rest of the time they spent on the bus is still coming back to Tristan in pieces.