Love Potion

Joy Road

 I decided to add this chapter, which will be added to the edited version of Love Potion. This is to better explain why Davis is Davis and how he came to be so protective of Andie. Most of you already understand this kind of friendship and love, but for those of you who got mad about it, hope this helps!

Bus seven and the Joy Road litter-box.

(How Andie met Davis)

Andridge Gellar waited behind the stone pillars in front of Deerview High school, counting to the very second the giant bee would roll up to the curb, open its mouth to let her in. Her baggy clothes were too big, her hair unruly, dark and twisted looked like it could poke an eye out if you got too close. She wore thick rimmed glasses, filled with the enormous orbs of her green eyes. Her face looked like aliens had crashed landed on it and then got into a brawl. Pink full lips, stretched over her ever counting mouth of metal.

The ritual she followed to be first on the bus and last off at her stop, staved off the ridicule and insults. Today her routine was falling apart, bus seven was late, nowhere in sight. No amount of counting could reset the events about to unfold. She sunk as the bells whistled in the halls setting the bees free into a frenzy, piling out the doors, surrounding her. She would be the last on and have to walk the gauntlet.

Bus seven showed up three minutes and forty-seven seconds late; she counted despite the swarm of students that devoured her. She made no attempt to force her way through the crowd. She followed the last backpack, hoping to go unnoticed to find her seat at the back of the bus. Eyes down, to the right side of the lane, counting each row as she passed. One through four, the small kids, not old enough to bother with her. Five, six, seven, the pretty girl seats, eyed with looks of disgust, and rumbles of laughter as she passed. At eight, the school bullies, the Trosy brothers. A pair of greasy haired, dirty handed boys who always wore the same clothes soaked in the stench of metal and gasoline. Eyes wide, mouths spewing obscenities as she passed. She counted over the insults that they flung at her. When she got to nine, she touched the stiff leather and glanced down at the young boy who always sat alone. His shoulder slumped against the window. He looked her over and looked away. The number ten circled in her head. She kept moving and counting until she reached twelve. She slid in and pressed herself into the metal and glass. The door closed, and the rumbles of the motor set the sway of the axles in motion. She watched the street names go by. Montana, thirty seconds to Swift, twenty-two seconds to Hall, twenty-five seconds to the stop sign. In four minutes and twelve seconds, the door would open at Joy Road and three students would get off. She would be one of them. The bus slowed and swayed, the Joy road sign rolled past her, and the bump of the curb told her the door was going to open in five seconds, and in eight seconds she could stand and travel the twelve seats to the door. Today the boy at nine stood up and started the walk off; it was not his stop, he was messing up her routine. She wondered why and counted as she followed him off the bus.

The boy was Davis; he managed to avoid the bullies by staring them in the face. So far it had worked. He had big brown eyes with bits of blue, and yellow streaks, like a storm tearing through them. Average size and height for his age, with an attitude that was bigger than he was and the bullies, would learn if they pushed him. Though the Trosy brothers were idiots, they knew the eyes of a fighter when they looked into them, and recognized this was a not worth getting into scrap with, not when there were other easy targets available. Davis sat behind the Trosy brothers for a reason, every day they talked about some hideous plan to torment someone. He wanted to be one step ahead of them, never too sure they would not plan on targeting him. The latest was for the strange girl at the back and for her cat that was always waiting for her. What they had planned was beyond cruel and today the rehearsal was over, it was their opening act and she was the star of some sick show. Afraid for the girl, he got off at her stop. Knowing he was in for a fight, he had rearranged his backpack. He moved three hardcover books and stacked them with the edges facing tight against the side. He loaded his hands with a pile of recently sharpened pencils and gripped them in his clamped fist.