Prompts And Shit

normal (i)

The boy reminded me vaguely of myself. His large eyes looked forward at nothing in particular, whilst his arms hung loosely at his sides. He was quite small for his age and looked almost too thin to be healthy. The boy was dressed from head to toe in thick woollen warm clothing, which gave a hint of possibility that it was not in his own willingness. Like always he was unusually quiet and preferred to listen to our conversations over joining in.

To my right was the only other girl besides myself. Her brown hair flowed in the wind, naturally straight and grown to a length deemed trendy by the other girls of her year. Despite the cold weather, she insisted upon wearing a mini skirt with forty denier tights and a thin blazer over her white blouse. It was her large hands clutching at the sleeves of her blazer, telling me that it was not that she found it warm that she didn't opt for thicker layers. She was a couple years older than I was and may have been popular, if the other girls of that cliche didn't immediately reject her.

I looked to my left and was immediately greeted by a friendly grin. How could you forget the golden boy? Perfectly athletic to the point where his shoulders were broadened from years of swimming and that his arm pulsed underneath his too small blazer. Good grades were his speciality along with daily sports activities and keeping his perfect reputation under control. I may have though he had the perfect life, if I hadn't heard the other boys of his year, on our bus, mocking the good efforts of the headmaster's son, trying to fit in.

There were the three of them, without including myself, of course. I seemed to have personality traits stolen from all three of them. I fit in with the "almost populars", the group closest to the populars on the scale of one to ten but missing the final trait that would push me over to the next group. I was athletic and had been all my life, almost a shock to my parents who were about as sporty as the girl standing to my right was warm, yet I was one with stamina and not speed, which separated me from those when we did quick sprints. Lastly, I was completely and utterly silent when it came to other people's conversations.

I had recently learnt that there were two types of boys, when it came to standing in cold harsh winds. One, the golden boy, who felt that it was in everyone's right but his, to stand under the small rickety bus shelter. Two, the quiet one, the one that held no objection to being forced to stand in the freezing cold, as long as he wasn't questioned.

I suddenly felt a harsh nudge at my shoulder and realised that a third person was trying to squeeze there way into the tiny shelter, that currently only the dark haired girl and I stood in.

Let me rephrase the last few paragraphs. There were five of us now. Three boys and two girls. Now, there were also three types of boys. One, the golden boy, who is happy to stand in the cold, if it means he gets a couple of grateful smiles of the girls he lent it to. Two, the quiet one, the one who didn't car as long as he wasn't spoken to. Three, the wanker, the one who didn't care how small the damn shelter was or the maximum number of people it could hold as long as it wasn't himself, squished against the cold glass.

The wanker hadn't been at the bus stop for weeks, for unknown reasons. The reasoning to why he decided to come today escaped me. I shifted my body position, slowly, hesitant to move because of the closeness of our three bodies. We had the first stop, meaning that the bus was usually late to our stop more frequently than the other five.

The bus stop itself was situated in the most inconvenient place possible for all five of us. It happened to be much further than a normal within walking distance bus stop, but the ground near it was so congested with all sorts of varieties of plantation that only a vehicle with large enough wheels could get down here without getting indefinitely stuck. Meaning that the only vehicle that could get down here was our bus or a tractor. A tractor was of course not an option for any of us which left us with the glorious option of walking.