Stalker and Smoke

Chapter 4

I smacked on chewing gum while I read. Reading got easier when I found it necessary to tune out Dina’s group of worshippers as they talked about…personal things. Pumping music into my head as well helped keep Marcus out of my mind. So instead of thinking about my life, I was able to read about a futuristic world and listen to Flo Rida sing about a whistle.

            Rhett, Levi, and Michael had already decided that they should be a band. So when I pulled my ear-buds out, I listened to them beat-box and rap in a stupid manner about My Little Pony. That was another disturbing thing about the guys at my school. They were obsessed with My Little Pony. Blech. I outgrew that when I was four.

            Then Amber’s nasally voice shouted over the top of them to Michael who was doing the actual rapping. “What are you, five?”

            Rhett called back, “And a half,” mocking an offended tone.

            This sent them into an eruption of laughter. I wouldn’t have pulled my ear-buds out had the teacher not asked me to do so and wait for further instruction. Then Mrs. Simmons went around to everyone who had turned into IPod pod-people. Or would that be i-pod-people. Either way, they turned off their music and games. So now we all had to suffer through another My Little Pony song. This one was about tasting a rainbow while dancing on it. I really don’t want to relay their words of how the rainbow came out of the pony because it honestly made me want to barf. And then shoot myself in the head.

            Mrs. Simmons tried to get everyone’s attention directed to the front, but it was futile since the My Little Pony song was at the back of the bus. I saw Ms. Parks –who was sitting across the aisle from me temporarily – ask the kid in front of me, Ian, to pull up some app.

            I knew which app it was even before the high-pitched siren sounded and her voice was amplified. The bullhorn app thing. Ian had used it once before in Ms. Parks’ science class to get the kids to shut up. Always worked, I guess.

            “Thank you, Ian,” She smiled down at Ian who was probably turning a million shade of red. She turned back to us, her voice coming out a little static-like from where she stood talking through the IPod. “You guys, Mrs. Simmons is trying to give you support in how our restroom break is going to function. So if you would please be respectful of her…”

            “Thank you,” Mrs. Simmons said. “We will spend around fifteen minutes here for you to use the restroom and stretch your legs.” And with that the bus driver opened the doors and threw the bus into a chaotic sea of kids cramming the aisle. I was one of the first people to stand and get into the aisle, so of course I was part of the line of people being shoved and squished.

            The air seemed thicker. My chest was shoved into someone’s back, and my back was shoved into someone’s chest. My breaths came a little faster. Breathe. Just breathe. I told myself. The line began moving forwards some, giving me a little breathing room (no pun intended). With a couple of inches between me and the person in front of me, I began to shuffle forward.

            With each seat that we passed, the air got colder until finally my face was stone cold and right at the threshold of the bus. I climbed down the stairs and onto the concrete. As I walked at my usual fast pace, someone rushed past me and to the door. When I looked up through my fringe, I saw that it was two someone’s trying to see who could get to the Flying J fastest. One of them was Marcus. Just seeing him made my heart stop and then speed up all of a sudden. Breathe. Just breathe. I told myself yet again. And as I watched him walk into the building and out of my sight, my heart began to hurt. I shivered, but not from the cold, and kept walking.