Work Text:
24, September 2024
It was probably my second week of high school and I had one conclusion: high school sucks ass. There’s no way any of these people could be my friends. I walked to the station, then stepped onto my bus. Going to the back, I sat down, put my headphones in, and started looking out the window. Starting this new chapter of my life was stressful—especially the waking up at 5:30 to commute part. So stressful, in fact, I never even noticed fall setting in outside.
Oh, how I missed my small-town middle school (I thought I did, I didn’t really) and living only 10 minutes away from class. And the worst part? Uniforms. They’re so performative. “It’s so no one judges each other’s clothes.” Bullshit. If people wanna judge, they’ll judge. It’s just some stupid thing schools do to appease the higher-ups. If it weren’t for them, I could actually show my sense of self and maybe connect to someone like me... Ugh, already rambling.
Riding through the city, my body was still sweaty, and my ginger curls were slightly disheveled from PE. God, I hoped I didn’t stink—that’d be embarrassing. My only remaining sense of individuality was my nails, jewelry, and eyeliner. But besides that, I was even more frustrated. I had to stay a few minutes overtime for last period, so I missed the bus I usually take. At least this one was less crowded. This wouldn’t bother me now, but back then I valued getting home as soon as possible. I didn’t love it here, but it was one of the best options in this shithole country.
The bus pulled up to the old town station, and it got absolutely filled since there are so many schools in the area. This area is gorgeous—19th-century buildings surrounded by nature. Why couldn’t my school be here instead of in basically the ghetto of communist-era buildings?? I disinterestedly watched the people at the station waiting to get on. After all, this is the most vital bus in town. It goes to all the key locations. Same old boring faces, no one I recognized from my small town.
But suddenly someone really caught my eye. They got on through the door near me, and believe me, they stood out.
They looked about 15, the same as me, maybe older by a year—but I wouldn’t count on it. The young face and medium height gave it away. What stood out immediately was the choppy side part and layered black hair, like people had back in 2004. I was fascinated by seeing my first emo person in real life, although I’m embarrassed by that reaction these days. They had the iconic all-black outfit with bootcut jeans and a black button-up, completed with a red tie like that one singer. But most importantly, a uniform jacket with a school logo—the most prestigious school in town.
They were absolutely gorgeous and extremely cool—the kind of cool that makes you self-conscious, like “are they judging me?” Her coolness made me remember how much of an irrelevant loser I am. She was like a beacon of light in a monotone world—but more like a splatter of blood, considering the edge of her look.
I couldn’t help but steal glances at her the whole ride. Look out the window for 5 seconds, take a peek at the emo person for 5 seconds. Repeat for like 5 whole minutes. I could afford staring; she wasn’t paying attention, being on her phone and all.
And I stress the “they.” She was very androgynous. But I think she’s a girl—no guy around here has the courage to stand out. And, well, she’s just kinda built like a girl? You know, no 15-year-old guy is 5’4. Just an assumption, really. I admired her a lot. I wanted to compliment her, but my mind was blank and my heart was racing. Why would she ever look my way? Why would she care what I think? It was intimidating how much I wanted to be like her. That’s why I kept my mouth shut. Probably for the best—I would’ve stuttered like crazy and made a fool of myself.
I was going to the big bus station with multiple platforms. It’s normal around here to commute from other cities for better opportunities. We reached the second-to-last station, and the bus was basically empty. She was still there... and the next thing she did still sends chills down my spine.
Out of all the empty seats, she decided to sit exactly right next to me! And I was looking at her when she moved toward me! I probably made an ugly, flustered face. Why now?? When I’m all sweaty and a total mess?? She probably couldn’t tell I secretly adored the way she looked. I still don’t understand why:
She decided to sit when she was getting off at the next station.
Why she sat next to me.
It was only one station. I can do this, I thought.
Barely holding back my gaze, I forced myself to look at my phone instead of at her. I tilted it slightly in her direction, hoping she’d notice the music I was listening to—maybe that would make me look cool. My cheeks were hot, and it wasn’t the weather. I gulped to calm my poor heart and survive. It was doing backflips, I swear. I couldn’t even hear my headphones anymore—not that it mattered.
We were so fucking close. Our skin was almost touching, and how I’d love for that to happen... I don’t know if she saw my screen; my head was practically spinning. Her sitting next to me would be an extrovert thing—if she actually communicated. As it stands, it was a weirdo thing. So I assumed she was probably introverted or shy. That’s so cute. My mind, struggling as it was, already made up scenarios of us becoming friends—or more. She just stood out so much and inspired me. She managed to keep her individuality even at a highly regarded school.
I could barely believe how close she was. I could feel her warmth, which really wasn’t helping. I’m pretty sure we brushed shoulders, and our thighs definitely touched! I could smell her too—a very subtle perfume, impossible to ignore at this distance.
We reached the stop. She got up slowly—painfully slow—and standing next to her, the contrast was vast. We were the same age, height, and gender, and our personalities and interests were probably similar, but we looked nothing alike. My insecurities struck again. She was really thin, with that spiky hair, while I—well, I wasn’t thin. I had fluffy curls in that striking red color I both hated and loved. I looked way too friendly and innocent, not edgy enough. Meanwhile, she looked unapproachable, deep, someone to be admired only from afar.
I wanted to be edgier, like her. I didn’t know if I wanted her or wanted to be her. I was still screaming in my mind to approach her.
Sadly, I didn’t. Fuck my social awkwardness. And my fear. How could I not be afraid of her? She looked like she’d bully me. I took my eyes off her for a second to concentrate on getting off the bus. She went to the first platform, I went to the fifth and last. I continued watching her carefully, trying not to seem like a stalker until her bus came, taking note of the town it was headed to: GXXXXXX.
And I swear, before she got on, she looked back at me.
Did she notice me too? Was the admiration mutual? Did she want to get to know me? And most importantly—did she know what she was doing sitting down next to me? So many questions. No answers.
I now knew her looks (didn’t really see her face that well though), her town, and her school—but no name. How mysterious. But I must find her somehow.
I could never forget this. I was awestruck, to say the least. I quietly waited for my bus and took it home. Then it started to dawn on me—I might never see her again, that this was just a fluke. I was determined to take the same bus the following days, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again, maybe even be brave enough to approach her, even just for a compliment.
I was extremely thankful for not catching my first bus and taking the second one instead—since it meant meeting her. Little did I know back then what I was getting myself into. But now I also know how much a single bus ride changed my life. I can’t imagine what I’d be living if I wasn’t in the right place at the right time.
I was convinced I’d never see her again, that maybe she was just another stranger, a fluke. But part of me wasn’t going to let go of this—not yet. (It felt like a coincidence, but I now know it was fate. And fate doesn’t let you walk away so easily.)