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The Bus Boy
Every week I board the bus to go to my writing club. and every week he's there.
As if he was waiting for me, just sitting there, earbuds shoved in his ears, music player lazily placed in his lap, eyes gazing out the window.
But today he isn't.
I try to act cool, waving my head around as if looking for a seat, even though there's clearly an entire row open near the back.
I can’t help but feel disappointed at the lack of his appearance. Even though we’ve never talked, or even sat next to each other, I’ve always wondered about him.
What is he like? What does he look like when he smiled? What’s his name? What makes him happy? What makes him sad?
Questions tend to float around in my head until they pour out of my mouth like a waterfall.
I sat down in one of the last two empty seats on the bus. This bus wasn’t normally this crowded at this time was it?
The busdriver- Danny, as I’ve come to know him as- is just about to class the doors and begin departure when someone comes flying through the doors last minute, causing a small ruckus as the boy stumbles a bit over the last step and falls onto the lady sitting in the seat next to the door.
I giggle, as rushed apologies and outraged squeals begin to capture the attention of most of the other passengers as well.
The boy- my boy, the boy I’m always watching- quickly pays for his fare and begins to look for a seat as the driver begins to prepare to leave once again.
“May I sit here?”
I looked up in surprise, I had been so intent watching him that I hadn’t even noticed when he had approached me.
“Oh! U-um yes, go right ahead!” I cried, the only thoughts circulating in my head about how surprisingly deep and gentle the boy’s voice sounded.
I scooched closer to the window I bit more as the boy sat down, anxiety and adrenaline suddenly rushing through me at my long-awaited chance to talk to him.
“Um, you don’t usually get on on this stop, right?” I asked.
Tact wasn’t my strong point.
He gave me a small smile as I silently cursed at myself for being so stupid, and said “Oh, yeah I accidentally slept in and missed it at the stop I usually get on at and had my sister drop me off at this one on her way to work.”
I stared in awe at the boy’s perfectly swoopy, dark brown hair. It hung in his face, and when his head moved as he talked it bounced and swung.
“Why couldn’t she drive you to where you’re going herself?” I asked, curiously as I gazed into his chocolatey brown eyes tinged with a bit of green.
“She was running late herself,” he said, his eyes crinkling when a large smile spread across his beautiful face.
He bent down, placing a black backpack I hadn’t noticed him wearing before on the floor. He pulled out headphones and a tiny, sleek music player decorated with a small sticker of the name of a band I didn’t recognize on the back.
“What music do you like to listen to?” I asked hurriedly, I hated to think our conversation would end so soon.
He looked surprised by this question, but his smile soon returned on his face as we delved into a deep conversation for the rest of the ride.
. . .
We quickly became close friends on our little bus rides together. I found out his name was Gavin, he was sixteen (A year older than myself), and he liked much of the same music as I did.
I told him my name was Mina, I was homeschooled, and I always took this bus to get to my creative writing club.
I often ended up being the one who did most of the talking, and he would just sit and listen as I chattered away about my life and friends.
I have to admit, I quickly fell for him; his sweet personality; his casual, laid-back style of clothing; his gentle voice; his lips; his face; his six-pack I imagined underneath his plaid-button down shirts…
I fell for all of him.
. . .
It was February, the week before Valentine’s Day when I decided I had to confess my feelings to him. We’d been talking to each other for about six months now, and I practically lived for the few short hours I spent with him every week.
I climbed up the steps into the bus, shivering in the cold, and paid my fare, a few other people following behind me.
“Mina!” Gavin cried, waving me over excitedly as he shoved his headphones into his backpack.
I quickly walked over to him, my heart racing as I thought about the scenario when I would confess to him.
“Here, I made sure to save you a seat,” He smiled as he patted the seat next to him.
I gave him a nervous smile as I settled in the seat next to him, placing my blue and purple plaid bag in my lap neatly.
I fiddled with the strap of my bag as Gavin began gabbing away about something that had happened at his school the day before.
“Uh, Um… Gavin!” I cried, much louder than I had meant to. My face felt warm, my hands were sweating profusely, and I could feel my throat constricting as I tried to force out my next words, my eyes clenched tight from nerves.
“I-I really like you!”
There was silence.
Even among everyone on the bus, no one spoke. The only sounds were the street noises from outside.
Slowly, I opened one eye and peeked through two eyelids at Gavin’s face.
Surprise emanated from every pore of his body as he sat in complete shock at my sudden outburst of a confession.
My hands began to fidget uncontrollably. I wanted to disappear.
Then he laughed. A deep, genuine chuckle.
“You know, the whole reason I’ve even been taking this bus every week was to see you. I actually only needed to take it the first time, but I noticed you and I decided I wanted to get to know you sometime,” He blushed a little here as he continued, “but I was too shy to ever approach you,” He said sheepishly.
Tears began to drip from the corners of my eyes, “Me too, I too… I too noticed you from that first time…” I sobbed.
A small chuckle rasped from Gavin’s lips as he gently wiped away my tears.
Cheers and awws echoed from the other bus regulars who had been watching us for months, who had probably been waiting for something to happen the entire time.
I giggled at the small amount of applause our confessions had gathered.
I gave Gavin my biggest smile, and he gave me his… and then finally, came the kiss.