The Next Stop

    The song started up as I looked through the grimy window of the bus. It’s pretty quiet tonight, the gentle hum of the bus and Freakin’ Out on the Interstate by Briston Maroney the only things I could hear. That was common. Most people don’t take the bus at 9:30 at night, but then again most people could afford a car. My mom always told me people want what they can’t have. I find that to be very true, once you know you can’t get

something the desire for it always seems to grow. But I don’t mind the bus. I look to my left and see the boy with brown hair. He’s always on at this time, earbuds in and a base ball cap pulled low. He and I are the only one’s abroad tonight. Sometimes I wish I could build up the courage to take out my own earbuds and ask what he’s listening to, but I never do. I just stare and wonder. Why is he on so late at night? What’s his name? Does he really like the Cubs or is that the only cap he owns? So many questions for a boy that I don’t even know. I get so lost in the wreckage that is my mind that I don’t even realize that he is looking right at me, his earbud in his hand.  For some stupid unearhtly reason all I can muster to do is stare right back at him. But that's when I hear it. The sound is not just coming out of my earbuds but also his. “And you got a lot on your mind, and your heart, it looks just like mine, there's no use in wasting your time anymore.” We are listening to the same song. I just stare at him, I must look utterly bizarre. He just looks away and grads his bag, and for a quick moment I think I scared him away. But no, he picks up his bag and sits right down next to me. He stares forward with a very serene look on his face. I can see a slight bump on his nose, almost like he broke it. I can tell that he doesn’t like my eyes one him so I turn forward and stare right ahead at the grubby seat. I feel his pinkie snake around mine and I will myself to keep looking forward. I stare so hard into the back of the seat I swear almost make a hole. But then the bus comes to a stop and he stands and walks off without a backward glance. I watch him walk away. Eventually the song had to end.

 

Summit House-WCS

VT

YWP Instructor