Chronological Order (Not Edited)

3

An old woman walked onto the bus, gray curls stayed tight upon her head, four bags swayed in both her arms, accompanied by a purse, and her walking cane. The bus was full, from teenagers going places, and adults going about their business.

The old woman walked slowly in front of a seat, reaching her hand up to grasp the handle, but fell four feet short. She then turned to the pole, and grasped it with both hands.

"So nah one y'all gone let the lady sit?" A man raised his voice, to the group of teenagers that were sitting, and talking about their later plans.

"She good mans, she got on the bus, she know what she was doin'," one of the teens replied, his friend laughed behind him.

"Now when this ya moms' inna future, she gon get the same shit. Cause' her bitch of a son got no respect for his eldas'."

The teen blinked, and stood, after registering the words the older stranger said. "What you say bout' my moms, pu-,"

"Ma'am. You can take my seat," Tiffany butted in. She stood from her seat, and walked to the elder lady, helping her make her way towards the back.

Addison sat with a frown, she had her phone out waiting to record a fight. "Put that shit away Addie, damn. Isn't you a adult?" Tiffany helped the elder lady settle into the seat. "You, kid with the dried hair, sit the hell down. Next time just stand, the fuck you so ignorant for? And my guy, don't pick a fight with a kid. You gone go to jail for whoopin his ass. They on' believe in whooping now days."

"Thank you miss. I wasn't trying to cause trouble. I was fine standing." The elder lady said, her voice was sweet, it wasn't meant for a city life. Tiffany returned a smile, and nodded.

The boy's friends was laughing at him, and the man turned the other way, looking out the window as the bus drove by. The bus driver flicked his eyes up to the overhead mirror, silently thanking Tiffany from stopping a pending fight.

Tiffany exhaled, her left hand grasping the overhead clutch on the bus. She stood over Addison, who had both her hands in her pockets, looking down at the floor of the bus. It was littered with trash, and some liquid substance that spilled and now seeped into the cracks.

"You's a good person Tiff," Addison chuckled, looking up to Tiffany. Her laugh quickly faded when she saw the tears slide down Tiffany's cheeks. They stained her face, and her eyes were a glossy red now. "Wanna sit? I could stand yanno. Ion care bout' sitting." Addison began to stand, but Tiffany wiped her face and shook her head no.

Addison laid her head low, lost of words to say to her grieving friend.

The bus pulled up to another stop, and Tiffany walked off with Addison. This was the street where her job was located, a summer job program she started working at when she was sixteen. Back then she was barely living off of a five dollar and twenty five cents an hour check, but now she makes twenty two dollars straight an hour, and it helps her makes ends meet, usually.

"Let's head to that dirty man stand first. Cause' I was there when I got that call." Tiffany's voice was clear, but still was raspy.

--

The man working the hot dog stand, did not see Tiffany drop any keys. All he remembered was her taking off, without paying him. Which was a lie, and Tiffany needed to let off some steam, but Addison held her back.

Now Tiffany was fixing up her clothes as they walked towards her work building. A seven story youth center. She worked on the fifth floor, putting files in the correct folders, and made schedules for the fourteen year old workers.

They both entered the building, which was lightly air conditioned, and chaos.

The first two floors were filled with teenagers, and counselors here and there that were monitoring them, making sure they were actually doing their work. Addison and Tiffany walked passed them easily, going to one of the two elevators at the far back of the building. One of the elevators had a post it on it, saying it was out of order.