34Chapter 1: The Bus Stop
Late nights on dark street corners. Allow the paranoia to set in. No ones around. Someone could easily attack me here. Wonder what it's like to be attacked…pure adrenaline and completely terrified. I wonder what being completely terrified feels like. Can you be terrified to the point where your body can't handle it and you just die? I shake me head. These are the kind of thoughts that get me ostrasized by my peers.
"Fucking holiday schedules…" I grumbled. My short, dark hair wiped about as the wind picked up. I curled into a ball at the base of the bus post.
Watch the leaves scuttle down the street. I should have walked down to the main intersection with them. I would still be by myself. But the false sense of comfort from the crowds would be nice. I had to get away from them. I felt alienated. It was partially my fault and partially theirs. I'm left in the background and I can't make my way back to the front. Yet, they aren't helping to bring me to the foreground either.
A boy turns the corner and sits on the bench designated for waiting passengers. He notices me huddled on the ground not a metre away. He gives me a queer look and rolls his eyes. He takes a cigarette and lighter out of his jacket pocket. He pulls down the hood from the underlying sweatshirt; stylish, bed head hair is unveiled. He grumbles as the wind toys with the flame as attempts to light his cancer-stick.
Slightly feminine-shaped lips wrap around the cigarette. Silver, off-center ring embellishes his bottom lip. He sighs as he gets his first drag. Cigarettes… I never understood peoples fascination wit them. I get once you get addicted then you need it but when you first try it…what makes you pick up another one? It does jackshit. Like at least with weed or pills or alcohol, you can feel the effect…What the fuck is the point of a cigarette?
A cloud of toxic smoke was blown into my face. I jolted back into reality to come face to face with a boy with gorgeous hazel eyes. A smirk made its way on to those slightly pouty lips. I fixed him with a glare.
"Hey," He raised his hands in mock surrender, "you were staring…and that's rude."
"So you give me your second-hand smoke." My voice was monotone. It wasn't a question. The glare let up and I shifted to stare down the street. He didn't go back to the bench.
"You should be honoured. That smoke was in me."
I raised a brow. "Yay, slowly filling you're lungs with tar and leading you to a life of wheezing, smoker's cough, and nicotine addiction." I turned back to him.
He was unamused. "Snarky one, now aren't we?"
I matched his tone. "Cocky one, now aren't we?"
He sat on the curb. His brow was furrowed. He obviously wasn't used to backtalk. "Is confidence such a crime?"
It was my turn to smirk. "Confidence? No but arrogance..." I trailed off suggestively. He gave me a dirty look. We sat in silence for a while.
"How long have you been waiting for the bus?" He ground the cigarette but into the cement.
I pulled out my cell phone. 1:01 am flashed across the display. "Bout 30 minutes."
He nodded. "I hate holidays…the buses run so fucking slow."
I didn't respond.
He continued. "Thanksgiving shouldn't even count as holiday…none-the-less, a day of celebration."
"It's not a day of celebration…it's a day to encourage obesity among the privileged." He smiled in response. I glanced down the street as a vehicle with blue headlights rounded the corner. I stood and pull out a bus ticket from my pocket. "Finally..."
I climbed into the bus. Sighed in relieve as the warmth hit me. Thank who ever decided to put heaters on buses. The bus was virtually empty. I nabbed a double-seat and stretched out across it. He sat behind me. I closed me eyes. The turbulence and warmth of the bus was soothing.
"Nice piercing." I opened my eyes only to be stunned by hazel ones glinting in the fluorescent lights. "I was thinking about getting an eyebrow piercing, too. But then I realized it's pointless. My mop-top would cover it."
The whole time he was speaking, I was staring at the turquoise ball adorning his tongue.
He stopped talking and the smirk reappeared. "Like it?" He stuck his tongue out. I gave him a blank stare. This irritated him and that gave me great satisfaction. "Why are you so difficult?"
I slowly shut my eyes. "You met me only a little while ago and you already think you know me."
He grumbled. "And you only met me a little while ago and from the beginning you've been a bitch."
"If I'm such a bitch then why didn't you just stop talking to me?"
He flushed. "I'm sociable when I'm coming off a high."
I laughed but I wasn't amused. "You blew smoke in my face…how do you expect me to react?"
His defensive demeanour softened. "You've got a point but you were staring at me."
I sat up and shifted in my seat. "Actually, I wasn't staring at you." How do I bullshit my way out this? Might as well tell the truth. "I was lost in thought. So, it only appeared as if I was staring at you when really I was dazed out and staring at everything as a whole."
He shook his head. "Bullshit."
I scowled. "I'm not lying. I was thinking about how smoking is pointless."
His eyes narrowed. "Hey! I'm trying to quit. I'm taking my time… You're right, though. It's pointless but when I realized that, I was in too deep to just stop."
I nodded absent-mindedly. I peered through the tinted glass. My stop is coming up. I stood and started to make me way to the backdoors. All of sudden, I'm in his lap. The son of a bitch tripped me.
"You're lucky I caught you before you went splat against the floor." I growled at him and slid off his lap.
"It's pathetic that you had to trip me so you'd have an opportunity to treat me like a damsel in distress." I pulled the cord to request my stop.
He grinned. "I would be flattered if I were you."
I rolled my eyes. The bus came to a halt. "Thank God, I'm not you." I stepped off the bus.
The wind hit me like a ton of bricks. Fucking autumn… I started my short walk to my father's house. "Stupid idiot thinks he can objectify me…Toss me around like a little rag doll. Patronizing little shit." I reached the front door. I reached into my pocket to get me keys. A piece of paper came out with'em. I unfolded the paper.
Linkyn
647-618-3844
I stared at it like an idiot. "Maybe he's a little smarter than I thought he was." Grinning like an idiot, I unlocked my door.