I hate the bus. It's just so uncomfortable. 60 kids shoving and pushing the hell out of each other. It's just so hot in here.
I walk up to the bus driver, asking him politely to turn the ac on.
He didn't hear me. Nobody does.
I go to walk back and a foot sticks out of the isle. Fucking wickershams. I trip and fall. Damn.
The bus finally reaches the school. But instead of being happy to get out of that hell whole, I become even more uncomfortable. Senior year of high school.
I step out of the bus, head hung low.
I bump in to someone. I lift up my head to see who it is.
Oh, just a junior.
Just keep walking.
Oh yeah, I'm Horton. I'm always lonely. Even in a school with over 2,000 people, I feel like I'm the only one here.
I keep walking to my class, and I hear a tiny quiet voice "Hi Horton"
Who knows my name?
It's a freshman. Jojo. I tutored him when I was in 8th grade. I guess it's good to see him there. One of the only people who hears me.
"Hi Jojo" I respond back.
Jojo is a small boy with a height disorder, he can't grow. He's only 4 feet tall. He looks like a third grader.
