The driver lays on the horn, for all the good it will do: It’s gridlock. They won’t be moving anytime soon. He hits his head softly, drifting in and out of consciousness. The bus is noisy, still bustling with excitement as they return to school. Friends talk and laugh and the friendless ones stare out windows or read to themselves. A tall dark haired boy sits with a smaller blond girl, neither of them seem to mind the delay. The girl shivers and the boy reaches up to the luggage rack, his hand returning with a thick jacket and he drapes it over her body as she curls up into a ball. She is asleep in his arms, despite the uproar of the bus around them. A blinding flash and the bus shudders, everyone is fine. A flash, an ear splitting bang. Bloody hands pound against windows that won’t open, the driver now lifeless on the horn. The girl is still in the boys arms, though now she isn’t asleep, but now she will never wake up.
