Dawn Hollow

II

One foot after the other, PJ booked it down the driveway. The fright of the bus leaving without him was enough torture to put a pep in his step and increase his speed. The leafless trees swayed in the clouded sky while the winter weather brought a bite to his skin.

More students started to flood around the bus, getting in a small line to scan their student IDs to allow them into the driving judge fest. PJ hated taking the bus every day, but he hated his mother having to drive him to school even more, so he knew that also wasn't in the question. Sure, there was also the third option of him getting a driver's license himself, but juniors like himself get eaten alive at the DMV in his childhood town. Just looking at the DMV while being anything other than a senior or higher got face to face with people begging for a fight on their turf...whatever that meant.

The line for the bus slowly began to shrink just as the teenage boy got behind it. The sounds of muffled 'good mornings' to the bus driver and the rest of the animals on the bus surrounded him like a headache. He now stood on the first step of the bus, bouncing on the tips of his shoes while taking a deep breath. The bus; just a massive popularity contest. And you could also tell who was winning based on where the bus was leaning the most. Wherever the most famous person of the century was was in the middle of them all. In some ways, it was very insulting, and he'd always choke on the smoke coming from the ego factory whenever he'd walk to the less popular back of the bus.

He took another foot up the next step, musty perfumes and bad colognes flooding his nose, making him nauseous. Another step in, and just one person left until he had to scan his ID. He discarded the backpack from his shoulder and dug through the small front pocket. The cells of his fingers were craving the cloth of his leather wallet, where he always put his school ID. He didn't feel it at first, only feeling for pencils, a stick of melting gum, a few rubber erasers, and a bottle of Ibuprofen. But eventually, the wallet was in his hand.

His turn. PJ stepped forwards anxiously while the bus driver flashed a kind but impatient smile. It was a weird combination of looks, but he didn't question why. He knew that everyone had different tales that led them to the bus that day. Maybe hers just wasn't the best. He flashed her a quick and kind smile, puffing out his wallet to grab the one loose card that was in his leather pouch. Immediately, PJ put his ID into the scanner and slid it, not wanting to look at his little face on the ID any longer than he had to.

When the meaningless transaction was done, he could put the card away and turn to the hustled crowd of the bus. PJ swallowed his nervous energy as he returned his wallet to its spot. Even though he could see everyone's eyes, either looking at their friends or their phones or even investigating the sights outside their windows, his cheeks still boiled with embarrassment as all eyes were on him. Despite not feeling his own legs, he started slowly scooting forward. PJ clutched his medicine even harder in his hand, feeling nails digging into his skin.

PJ closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to imagine himself in the place of his classmates. If he was sitting where they were, he wouldn't care about the person in the aisle. They would just be trying to get to their seat, nothing special. He wanted to put himself into that mindset. He tried.

The boy jumped upon hearing a loud, deep whistle and rumbling in the base of his feet. Confusion was mighty in his face, but everything started to make sense when the bus rolled ahead. PJ knew his balance wasn't super good in general; he had always been the type of person who was famous for tripping over his own feet while just trying to walk down the street. Trying to shuffle along in a moving vehicle definitely wasn't going much better.

PJ gripped his hands around the top of the bus seats, pulling himself along further. His legs shook and wobbled; he hated being the center of the long yellow car. Once the bus accidentally climbed over a curb, PJ's sweaty hands slipped and jerked him over. In a blind rushing blur, the boy registered the cushioned leather plush that he had fallen into. But more than any of that, he felt the friction of denim rubbing up against his similar pants.