{fifteen}
"Again? Where is that boy?"
"Okay, five-five-seven.....or no, was it six? Maybe if my stupid phone would work.....yes, dial! About time."
"Hey! It's me - oh, answering machine. Right."
"Hey, there. It's me, crazy chick from the bus and all that. Just wondering where the heck you've been these past few days, and I demand answers! So, yeah. Call me."
[end of conversation]
YOU ARE READING
Bus Seat Conversations
Teen FictionConversations involving a girl, and a boy and a leather bus seat. And maybe some love. *Fair warning, this is rough work, so please do not judge. Also, the copying of this story in any shape or form will not be tolerated.*
