Save You A Seat | ✓

HER BUS SEAT

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STOLEN:

HER BUS SEAT
if found, please return.

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BROOKE THOMPSON HAD A headache as she rushed towards her 10 AM class. It was an uncontrollable pounding in her head, a pulsing that rang at her ears and made everything around her blur. All she wanted was to stay home and sleep, but she knew she couldn't afford to miss another class.

Getting on the bus and beelining towards the only open seat, Brooke felt her tired legs begging for a break. But just as she reached the seat and was about to sit her tired butt down, a brown-haired asshole decided to shove her away and claim the seat for himself.

For fuck's sake. "Hey!" she snapped. All she wanted was a break, was that too much to ask? Her head pounded harder as she stumbled against the shaking bus. "That's my seat!" She yelled at the thief.

He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. "Really? I don't see your name on it."

Brooke wanted to punch something. "That is the most elementary thing I've ever heard," she growled.

"Yeah, well, deal with it," he said indifferently. He wiggled in his seat, dramatically making himself comfortable and making it clear he had no intention of getting up.

The fighting spirit in Brooke died away as the headache deepened. She sighed tiredly, "Listen, I was clearly here first. My hand was basically already on the seat and I was about to plop my ass down when you shoved me away. Could you please just let me have the seat? I have a killer headache and my legs feel like a jelly and I feel like I'm about to faint – "

While she was ranting, the boy looked at her mockingly through bored eyes. He pulled out a set of headphones, nodding as if he was listening when he clearly wasn't. Holding her gaze, he then cut her off, "Hey do you hear that?" He dramatically put the headphones on, made a soft popping noise with his mouth, and said, "That's the sound of me not caring." With an arrogant grin, he turned his gaze out the window, completely ending all communication with Brooke.

Brooke's jaw dropped. She gaped at his frame, wishing she could tear his headphones off, chuck them under a bus – preferably him along with them. A million plots of murder ran through her head but all she could do was clutch the railing and pray her knees didn't give out.

When the bus came to a stop, she stomped away, fists clenched and still fuming.

She angrily got off the bus – but not before catching the little thief's eye and flipping him off.