J Club

Prologue

"You're pretty."

I'm waiting at my usual bus stop, the one on Aurora Street and the only stop in my neighborhood that welcomes the Betas. Maybe "welcomes" isn't the best word to describe that, but it doesn't matter to me. Because the Betas are cheap.

It's a small structure, standing on only two poles barely taller than myself with a roof about the size of a twin size bed. Under the shelter there's a flat, metal bench, with old red paint drawing a line from one side to the other. That's the only new thing about this stop. And by new, I mean it was painted two years ago.

About every once a month, I'm lucky enough to get a seat on the single bench installed here. That once a month is today.

I'd guess this bench was made to sit three people comfortably, maybe four if necessary. Today it's seven, and I just happen to be right in the middle of the group.

"I know you can hear me. I'm talking to you, you know."

This is the problem with crowds. You never know who's talking to you, nor who isn't. And through experience, I can tell you one thing; these people don't like it when strangers stare at them. They don't like it if you even look at them. Which is why I'm careful to rotate my head to the right only a tiny bit, just to see who's speaking and whether they're speaking to me or not.

There's a girl sitting beside me. I haven't seen her around here before, so she probably doesn't come often. I would know, since by now I've gotten the face of every regular at this bus stop etched into my brain.

She's probably in her teens, around my age, and looks about the same height as me. Her eyes lock with mine as I dare a glance at her face, which I'm surprised to find facing in my direction.

"Me?" I point to myself.

"Yes you," she snaps. "Actually, you know what? Forget it. I was only complimenting you. Don't have to be so rude." With that she turns to face the road again, pushing earbuds back into her ears and pulling out her phone.

There's no hint of fear in the way she carries herself. It's unusual, since most people who come here are wary of the regulars. They usually keep to themselves, and are always quick to apologize if they can't.

I'm no exception. "Sorry, uh, I didn't realize you were talking to me..." I start. She isn't listening. Her eyes are now trained on the glowing screen of her cellphone, her head slightly nodding along to whatever music was playing through her earbuds.

I should feel relieved, that she isn't upset or anything, but for some reason it ticks me off that she's ignoring me.

"Excuse me," I say, a little louder this time.

She responds by tilting her head towards me, pulling out her left earbud to hear me better. Her eyes are glaring with the ferocity of a tiger as she demands, "What?"

"Well, I wanted to say thank you for the compliment! I think you're very pretty too!"

She only scoffs at me before returning her attention to her device.

In only a couple minutes, two buses pull up in front of the bus stop. The difference between the two is as clear as night and day.

The one in front is from GJM, which owns at least half of the city's facilities. Its exterior is clean and white, with tinted windows that are solid black from the outside, yet so transparent from the inside it's as if there aren't windows at all. The seats are wide and cushioned, and my butt aches as I recall memories of myself sitting on that bus. But that was a long time ago.

The second bus is a Beta. Its rustic appearance makes it almost invisible compared to the bus from GJM, with unpainted metal sidings covered in infinite scratches and dents. The windows are tinted with dirt, not intentionally but so much so that it's difficult to see through unless you look closely. Not to mention the dirty, plastic seats I know await me inside.

I glance awkwardly at the girl beside me as we stand synchronously, waiting for her to move first.

Instead, she turns to me and says, "You know what? We're gonna have to get to know each other anyways, so let's be friends." She offers a small smile, a gesture which is hesitant but sincere. "What's your name?"

"It's Jay," I reply cautiously, prudent at her words.

She doesn't respond but hand me a folded note, smiling once more before she turns to leave. Not towards the Beta, but the bus from GJM.

While her back is turned, I hide my face in the crowd of passengers taking the Beta, embarrassed that she might think less of me knowing I'm poor. Once I'm seated, I can't help but glance toward the bus in front of us. She's still there, standing before its wide doors. Her lips move like she's speaking to someone inside, and for a split second I see her eyes widen with shock. Then she leaves. Not into the GJM bus, nor the Beta I watch from, but away down the sidewalk of Aurora Street.

At least she didn't see me, right?

I quickly unfold the note I had received from the girl. It's a small piece of light purple paper, folded cleanly into four. On it, such perfect handwriting that it could be mistaken for print.

Nice meeting you, Jay.
Maybe we'll see each other again.
—Gia

Just before the bus leaves, I take a peek outside. The girl, no, Gia, is still there, slowly strolling away from that small bus stop. For just a moment, she tenses up, turning in my direction.

Her brown eyes glow like gold in the vibrant sunset, wandering for only a second before they lock with mine.