Back of the bus

Her earrings jangled as the bus jolted along the road. She reached up to take them off, pulling at the metallic swirls. She sighed, leaning her face against the cold window. She pulled at the bikini tie at the back of her neck, wishing she’d had the foresight to change before getting in the bus. The wet suit stuck against her skin, leaving several oddly shaped wet marks on her shirt. She could feel her hair start to frizz as it dried and pulled it up into a ponytail. The bus ground to a halt in front of a failing neon sign that buzzed, ‘Hot Break ast.’ An old couple climbed up the stairs, grabbing at each other for support. They shoved their small change into the meter in the front, carefully counting out the exact price. They smiled at the driver, who was too busy glowering out the windshield to notice, and found seats together towards the front. The young man who had got on the bus after the old couple made his way towards the back of the bus where she was sitting, an island in the sea of empty seats. She sighed, hoping he wasn’t too set on becoming ‘friends.’ She leaned against the window, staring out at the neon.

“hi.” He said. He said it just like that, in lower case, as if he wasn’t sure if it was really his mouth opening. Tough choice, she thought, either I won’t talk and he’ll leave me alone, or I don’t talk and he’ll think I didn’t hear me and try again.

“Hi.” He seemed surprised that she had deigned to return his greeting. He never got a chance to respond. She had categorized him, a shy, well meaning fellow that would like to get to know her. She didn’t really want to get to know him. “Look. I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, but I would really appreciate it if you would just move across the aisle.”

He turned to face her fully, and although she was still mostly staring out the window, she could see his hurt expression. Like a kicked puppy, he retreated across the aisle. The silence grew between them. She got the impression that only she noticed, but she felt ashamed of her mini-outburst. She looked at him, staring out his own window. She examined him at her leisure, taking in his jeans and shaggy hair cut, and gave a little smile. She cast a furtive glance around, as if she knew if she got caught, she’d be in for it. She gathered her things and slid across to sit next to him. He jumped slightly when he felt her body settle down, brushing against him.

“Sorry. I think I over-reacted, I’ve had some pretty hairy stuff happen to me on this bus.” He grinned. “No problem, I understand.” They gazed at each other, in silence, each wondering what the other was thinking.

“Hi. My name is Andrew.”

“Kylie.”

”Nice to meet you Kylie.”

And that’s her favorite story of how she met the love of her life, although the one where he rescued her from a scorpion was close. Or the one where they met when she was a trapeze artist and he the lion tamer. Or—