Fan Fiction ❯ Bus Rides ❯ Mornings ( Chapter 1 )

Bus Ride

A million things sped past my window. Busy people quacking on their cell phones hurrying off to their jobs, old men creeping out of their houses like hesitant shadows, dogs barking incessantly, begging to be released out into the morning. In the prime of October, the vibrant red maple trees flaunted their crimson foliage…

All of it passed by so quickly; my tired eyes could barely keep up with it all.

A wind from the school bus's open windows brought the fragrance of autumn scented air. It was so warm.

A voice came on Ms. Joanna's radio.

"Good morning Laidlaw buses. Today is October 21st. It is 7:15 AM, and 72 degrees. Have a great day and a safe day."

I was a little sleepy. Amie was talking to Janice about something. It sounded uninteresting, so I turned and leaned my head on the vibrating glass of the window. It felt so much like spring… It reminded me of a thousand memories I thought I'd forgotten. They were from a faraway place; could it be true it was only last year?

It had been my freshman year, and my first year in the high school. The school bus was filled with us little freshmen, as well as sophomores waiting for their permits, and the occasional upperclassman that wasn't some rich millionaire that could actually afford a car in high school.

Morning buses rides back then were great. The sky would be a faded predawn grey, and we weary students would talk in quiet voices. Nolan talked to the Senior about his weekend, and I would talk to Amie about whatever. Sometimes we would talk to Faithe, who usually talked to Britt or Janice about hot guys, although none of them really actually cared about hot guys. I think they were just a little bored.

In those days, as soon as I stepped onto the bus, Amie was always there. Her bus stop was the first, and mine the second, so we had a long bus ride ahead of us.

Yet we easily passed the time. She always had a story to tell. I remember spending whole, hour-long bus rides entranced by one of her captivating stories. They were about silly things, like a game of spoons at her church the other day, something her cousin said, how her grandma woke her up in the middle of the night to walk the dog, or how her cat beat up her little brother's dog that morning… I never had to say anything. I just listened and it was the greatest thing in the world. Amie was an amazing storyteller. I was sure she could be a librarian some day if she wanted to.

Once in awhile, when we were ran out of things to talk about, we would read each other really corny jokes from a big book.

"Why did the cookie mother miss her son?"

"Because he was a wafer (way far) away."

We knew it was stupid, but we found it funny anyway. And if that failed, we would play ticktacktoe, or if the mood struck her, Amie would pretend a dog stole her voice and I would have to guess what she was trying to say.

I knew we were in the high school, but we acted the same as we had as little middle school kids. We didn't care.

Amie was tall, blonde, and beautiful. She wore make-up, wore stylish clothes, liked to shop and talk on the phone for hours, and going to the movies. She could have been a popular girl flirting with the thousands of guys after her, but that's not the kind of person she was.

I've always noticed that Amie had bright brown eyes. Whether they were wide in the climax of a story or squinted in the early morning light, they sparkled with a light unique to only Amie. I remember on certain days, the sunlight slanted through the windows and turned her blonde hair into gold. Not even Rumplestiltskin's straw-turned-gold could shine so brilliantly.

Another reason why I loved those morning bus rides was because I liked seeing certain things every morning. For example, there was this Baptist church that had a bulletin board that said stuff like, "Life has many options, but eternity has only two." Amie and I read it every week.

I always sat next to the window, and Amie sat by the aisle. I could see everything happen outside that window. We liked to watch the old people waiting for the Rabbit in the morning. It was one of those little morning treasures that we depended on seeing each day. Old grumpy looking men and knitting grandmas waited on a single crowded bench. If we looked behind us, the Rabbit would just be turning the corner. We watched as the bright red Rabbit Transit bus with its trademark bunny tail picked them up. One by one, the old people slowly boarded the bus, as our own bus continued its way towards school.

There was also one more thing I looked for each morning. There was this one house we would pass every day. It was a beautiful house, which looked as though it came straight out of a fairy tale. It was a white wooden house with a green roof, and on all sides huge cheerful sunflowers surrounded it. They stretched their big yellow heads toward the expanse of blue sky, unashamed, unafraid.

Every morning, the bus would stop, and the two kids who lived there would board the bus. I really knew nothing about them. I knew they were brother and sister, but that's it. They sat in the seat in front of me. Sometimes I feel like I should have asked their names.

After awhile, the bus didn't stop there anymore. I guess the kids moved. But the sunflowers remained. Even if it was a dark and raining, those huge blithe flowers looked up towards the sky.

On certain days, Amie stayed home sick. She was sick a lot too, because she always got migraines or was miserable from one of her many allergies. On the days when she didn't ride the bus, I'd stare out the window for a long hour until I eventually arrived at school. Other times, I talked to Faithe, who sat in the seat across the aisle.

Faithe was a great person. It's actually sort of strange, because her family didn't seem that nice. Her mom constantly blamed Faithe and Jimmy, Faithe's little brother, for ruining her life. And her mom's boyfriend was always shouting and drinking. However, Faithe was always just fine. She never let things get in her way, and she knew how to talk back to people. She loved Jimmy too. He always used to dive off trees and swear at the trucks passing by, and she would laugh like she never laughed around anyone else.

Faithe enjoyed complaining too. She complained about anything and everything, from teachers intent on failing her, to friends that talked behind her back, to principals who wouldn't let her wear skirts that she insisted were long enough. The nice thing about talking to her was that from her point of view, she was always right. It was cool because if I ever complained about something, she would always immediately champion my side. Everyone else always tried to give advice or judge the situation, but sometimes I got sick of that.

Faithe said a lot of things. I don't think she believed them all, because most of the time, they were just excuses. But there's this one thing that she told me once which I would always remember. I think the reason is because she was so sincere when she said it.

She was complaining to me about how her mom wouldn't let her stay out past 11 PM with her boyfriend.

She said, "Then my mom told me, `Hey, I don't want you sleepin' with no guy'. And I'm like, what the heck?

"I mean, Jimmy lost his virginity… But that doesn't mean I am. For once, I have some virtue."

Other days, we on the bus had the privilege of riding with Zane. Tall with greasy gelled hair, we would see Zane on the rare days between his last suspension and the next. His loud, annoying, trash-talking voice would fill the entire bus. It was impossible for anyone to ignore him. He'd flick off the cars going by, flirt with the disgusted girls sitting around him, and throw cigarettes out the window. Everyone hated him and agreed he was annoying, but he was sort of amusing too.

"Hey baby," he'd say in that annoying voice of his, "why don't you come and sit with me?"

The cool, beautiful, dark red haired Britt, would just glare at him. "Shut up Zane."

Then one of his friends would tease him, "Hey, how about your girlfriend, Suze?"

At the mention of her name, the bus filled with a torrent of curses and every bad name you could ever imagine a girl could be called.

I remember he and Suze were the first couple that had slept together at our middle school. From what I heard, they did it all summer after sixth grade.

"If that's what you think of her, then why are you always talking about her? And why are you so jealous of Suze's Puerto Rican boyfriend? I mean, if you don't care…"

Another friend added, "In a week, you'll be begging her to go back out with you again."

They all laughed at him, and Zane, for the first time, was speechless.

I don't know why. But for some reason, the question briefly flitted through my head…

Could jerks fall in love?

Yet, with the exception of when Zane was present, the nice part about getting on the bus in the morning was that it was so quiet. Everyone was tired and talked in quiet voices while we waited for the sun to rise. Every morning when that senior, I forget his name, got on the bus, he and Nolan would talk to each other.

Nolan was a little freshman like the rest of us who couldn't drive yet. And so, the little freshman was just like a little kid and the Senior, in some form or another, was a caring elder.

Nolan would say, "When I'm eighteen, I'm gonna get outta here and get an apartment."

And the Senior, relentless, would say, "And who's going to pay for this? Your grandma?"

"Actually, yes." Nolan would reply, annoyed. "She says she's gonna help me get an apartment up in Dover. Then I can finally get out of the house."

"You're an idiot. I can't believe you're making your grandma pay. If you can't pay yourself, then you're not ready to live on your own. You don't know what you're getting yourself into, moron."

"Shut up, you senior that still rides the bus."

"Shut up, crack head."

"Hey, I quit crack, okay? I hate it that everyone keeps using that against me. What the heck, why can't people just move on?"

On the last day of our freshman year, Ms. Joanna had a big cooler on the bus full of cans of Pepsi. As we chugged down that icy soda on such a blazing hot day, we savored it as if it were the ammonia of the gods. And we were so happy that the year was over; we couldn't wait to go home and never see our teachers or even each other again.

With that heavenly carbonation flowing down my throat, nothing mattered much. I didn't even notice it when I overheard Nolan tell Janice, "I swear, if all those political leaders just sat down and smoked pot, there'd be world peace. I mean it! D'ya know Mick? I hated his guts, but now that we smoke together, we get along just fine, y'know?"

I didn't even think much of it when Faithe told Britt, "Then my boyfriend says, `That's okay, I can wait a couple months.' And I didn't tell him, but it's gonna be more like a year and a half because I actually have some decency, and…"

Warm summer wind blew through the window, sort of like today, I guess.

"… And then he said, you mean like Stephanie? And that's sort of mean to Stephanie, but still, it was so hilarious. Don't you think so?"

When I realize Amie's talking to me, I just say, "Yeah."

Because the truth is, I was zoning out on her. I thought she was talking about her boyfriend, or why she hates her best friend Jennie, or what Michelle said about her to Danielle the other day, but I really have no idea. It's okay though, because she turns back to Janice in the seat behind us, and resumes telling some soap opera about what happened with her and some guy last weekend.

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?" Faithe asks me.

"I'm going to a thing at the library," I tell her. I sound so preppy, don't I? But it's the truth; I'm going to a book club after dinner. "Why?" I inquire.

"Oh, no reason," Faithe replies. She's not looking at me. She's looking out the window. For the first time, I notice her eyes are blue. They look really soft, like velvet or something. Maybe it's just because it's dark on the bus, but I see no light in them.

"Get some for me too," I hear Britt say.

"Alright, bring twenty bucks on Wednesday, okay? I've had it before, this ecstasy's some pretty good stuff."

"Good, you better not forget."

Outside, I look for the Sunflower House, but I barely recognize it anymore. The new owners of the house totally ignore the flowers, whose brown withering stems look like they're rotting. Meanwhile, I hear some of this year's freshmen making fun of an old man wearing a winter coat in this warm weather, waiting for the Rabbit.

"He must be looking for his boyfriend," one jives.

In the front of the bus, some freshmen girls are squealing about how the wind is messing up their hair.

"Gawd, now I know why everyone hated us last year," Britt comments.

Two freshmen boys are bothering Faithe too. I can hear her shouting at them.

"Don't you go insulting my boyfriend, whose cock is a lot bigger than what I'm sure your little things must be. And I should know `cause I laid him up last night and it felt much better than anything any of your sorry little girlfriends would ever give you."

Even though the warm weather felt like spring, it smelled like dying leaves.

I wanted to say, Faithe, your twenty-year-old boyfriend is a horny jerk!

I wanted to say, Nolan, drugs are going to screw up your life!

I wanted to say that everyday it gets harder and harder to believe in people…

But the truth is, I didn't say any of these things.

Finally, I asked, "Amie, do you think we're growing up?"

"What?"

"Never mind."