Next Stop

i.

i woke up at six a.m, like any other morning, to get ready for school.

you see my parent's are divorced and since they live in two separate towns i have to take the bus to school.

my school is right in between where my mom lives and where my dad lives.

freshman year was really hard trying to figure out what bus i am supposed to transfer on to and when to pull the line for my stop.

after two years of traveling via the bus I had finally somewhat gotten the hang of it.

at 6:45 every morning i would wake up and get ready for school.

today i threw on a pair of black tights, with a floral skirt over them and a lace, white top to cover my chest.

i grabbed a navy blue hoodie with cream-colored strings to keep me a little protected from the fresh cold spring weather off of hanger.

i was at my father's house this week and I rushed down to grab a quick bite of cereal and then walked off towards the local coffee shop to wait for the bus.

the bus stop was only two blocks from my house, which was pretty helpful, i guess.

i ordered my morning coffee and after retrieving a lid to throw on top of my cup i directed my path towards the bus stop.

up ahead was the dirty wooden bench, with rusted nails, that was there to supply the people wating for the bus with a place to sit.

on the bench was a boy i hadn't seen before.

i only glanced at him for a second, not bothering to stare at him, taking in every detail.

i thought nothing of this new comers appearance and sat down on the tiny bench, waiting for the bus.

then out of nowhere i could faintly hear the sound of muffled music.

i looked to my left and noticed the boy had headphones in and was humming along to his music.

this time i took the time to look upon him with scrutiny, analyzing every detail about him.

his hair was green, certain parts of it were lighter than the others, most likely faded from the sun.

his eyes were hazel, with flecks of chocolate and mint in them and his hand was nonchalantly tapping along to the rythm of the song he was playing, as was one of his feet.

his ramones shirt had holes in it and he had a cigarette in his mouth that puffed out smoke in grey wisps.

i started listening along to his music, subconsciously naming the songs that i recognized in my head.

the boy looked over at me strangely after a couple of minutes, "you like green day?

"oh shit," i thought to myself, "i must've been humming along as well."

"yeah, they're a great band. my dad used to play their songs for me," i answered back feeling my cheeks redden.

he chuckled lowly at how flustered i was, "what's your name babe?"

"charlotte cartwright," i answered, confidently.

he raised his eyebrows.

"what?" i asked, wondering why that gesture bothered me.

he eyed me, "that's the exact name that i would expect a girl like you to have."

i furrowed my eyebrows, "what do you mean a girl like me?"

he grinned at me, "you just look so innocent, that's all," he took the effort to slide himself over right beside me, making conversation easier.

i couldn't say i was pleased with his statement, "i am not innocent," i insisted.

lifting the cigarette out of his mouth he blew a ring of smoke, into my face, and i scrunched my eyes shut tightly.

he chuckled once again lowly before speaking up,

"whatever you say sweetheart."

i crinkled my nose in disgust, the smell of his smoke still bothering me. i wondered why he was still even bothering to talk to me.

i'm obviously quite different from him.

then it was my turn to speak, "that doesn't prove anything except that the smell of your nauseating smoke bothers me."

he raised his eyebrows, "oh really," he scooted a bit closer to me on the bench.

"yes, it proves absolutely nothing," i said shortly, wanting this conversation to be over and done with as soon as possible.

at this point he was sitting right next to me, his head turned to look at me, and his shoulder pressed firmly against mine.

i looked down at my lap, trying to avoid his gaze all together.

of course he wasn't suited with the idea of me being right, so, as i tried to keep my composure, he bent closer to me.

as he leaned down, his mouth just to the side of my ear, he rested his hand on my thigh to provide him with some balance and the oppurtunity to make me feel even more uncomfortable than i already was.

he bent his head down and left a light trail of kisses up my neck, moving his hand, that was on my leg, in patterns as he most definitely left a hickey upon my throat.

he stopped right beside my ear and whispered, "does this prove anything?"

a.n.

Oh. Shit.

thats it. thats all i have to say. what have i done.