popularity || sanders sides [DISCONTINUED]

5 | Virgil

Chapter Five: Bus B!tch
Virgil Jensen

I know that most kids hate school, but I actually quite enjoy it. It's the only time where I choose to interact with fellow humans, and where I can get away from my family nagging at me all the time. The only thing that I legitimately enjoyed about being home were my pets, Quak and Wil. There was nothing else there to enjoy. All anyone else there did was tell me to do something that they could've done themselves. All they said to me was stuff like "Virgil, do the dishes," or "Virgil, clean the entirety of the house because we hate you and enjoy making you suffer."

Okay, maybe that last one was a bit over-exaggerated. They don't say they hate me. They think it; it's some weird telepathic shit.

Another thing they did was tell me how my diet was terrible, as if they weren't the ones making me these things. My mom, Keira, would make me double-chocolate chocolate chip cake and then tell me that eating it is bad for my health, as if she wasn't the one to sit it in front of me and tell me to "eat up." I eat in my room now. I can't be shamed for eating what was given to me that way.

I got on the bus to school, since everybody who lived at my house who had a car refused to drive me there and save me from the stench of the bus. (Does anyone at my school know what deodorant is? The answer is probably not, to be honest.) I put my headphones on and hid in the comfort of my jacket, choosing not to interact with anybody, not even the person who sat next to me. That's rule one of the bus: if you don't know the person who sits by you on the bus, don't talk to them.

Then I made the mistake of looking at the person who took the seat next to me. He didn't look as bad as everyone else on here did--or smell as bad, for that matter. He was dressed in a plain blue shirt with black jeans and white sneakers with a cat pattern. I also took note of the gray jacket tied around his waist. (And now that I think about it, it is possible that it could've been a sweatshirt. I'm not very sure.) On his face, which was covered in barely-visible freckles and was partially covered with decently long golden-brown hair, were circular, golden glasses. It was when I looked at his face that I realized who this boy was: Patton Valentine.

Patton Valentine was a well-known name at my school. On top of being the only male cheerleader, balancing dance classes and still being a straight A-and-B student—like myself—he was one of the few people who were comfortably out as part of the LGBT+ community, him being gay and asexual. I honestly wish that I could do all that he could. I didn't join clubs because that would require my family asking why I was at school longer than usual. I wouldn't have a ride home anyways, I would have to walk. And I wasn't comfortably out—I'm gay as well—because would anyone really care? My moms would take it as another reason to hate me.

I was surprised that Patton took the bus. With as cool as he was, I figured he would have a more...private way to school, which is not the bus. I was even more surprised that he was on my bus, which meant that he lived somewhere near me.

He must've noticed that I was looking at him, 'cause he smiled and said, "Hello!" That's another reason people liked him. He was nice—nice enough to break the first rule of the bus—to everyone. Which meant that he was nice to me, a loser. A nobody.

"Hey," I muttered back, trying to avoid the oncoming conversation every way possible. But Patton didn't quit, "Today is amazing, isn't it?" He asked. I sighed. This was going to be a long ride.

Throughout the ride, Patton had continued to talk to me and I would give short answers, usually only having one word in them. He seemed way too happy to be human; I wasn't exactly sure how people could stand to be around him for long periods of time, to be honest.

As Patton and I walked into school, just getting off the bus, he continued the conversation, and I nodded and agreed with what he said, still confused as to why one of the most popular guys in school was talking to me. We were about to part ways—about goddamn time—but he grabbed me by the arm and said, "Oh! I never caught your name!"

I ripped my arm from his hand, "I didn't throw it," was the response I gave before turning and walking away. As I walked, I heard his gasp of realization, "Oh, that was a Heathers reference! I get it! Nice one! Oh, you're walking away now? Kay, I'll see you later!"

That could've gone better...or at least faster, I thought as I reached my locker and put my stuff in there. After I had the necessary items for my before-lunch classes, I stopped by the bathroom, sitting my books on the floor before locking myself in one of the stalls. I liked the stalls.

I liked using the bathrooms at school in the mornings more than I did at home. At home it would be a little suspicious to see me sneaking into the bathroom all the time, but at school, I could go before the first bell rang, during lunch, after school, and during some classes. This was essential.

Changing the subject from the bathroom, my favorite song right now is "Empty" by Boyinaband featuring Jaiden Animations. I just could relate to it so much that it made my stomach churn. Some songs do that to you, but this one was special on the relatability scale for me.

But that's not important.

I finished what I was doing and went to my first period: math. And for the first time, I had looked around enough to notice that Patton was in the same class.