My jaw dropped at this. Liza immediately noticed and leaned forward putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I mean, no offense to you, Ashums. You’re great. It’s just, don’t you wonder what kind of person does something like that?”

“No!” I snapped with a frown and Liza retracted her hands, instead throwing them up in surrender.

“My bad son,” she said with wide eyes and I laughed immediately. Liza was mixed, her dad was black and her mom was white, but Liza was mostly white and proper. I always laughed at her when she feigned “hoodness”. It was mostly to fit in, but she knew that she never had to do that with me. I didn’t care who her parents were.

“No offense taken,” I whispered between laughs. Liza took the momentary reprieve with a sigh and handed me a string cheese packet from her lunch bag. I ripped it open in one swipe and handed it back to her

“What would I do without you Ashums?” she asked sarcastically.

“Die of string cheese withdrawal.” I replied and she chuckled. She rested her head on my shoulder. I ran my fingers through her thick dark hair like I always did.

“Maybe you should try talking to her,” she said softly and I jumped. She laughed. “What are you afraid?”

“No,” I said shakily and Liza sighed knowlingly.

“You so are…”

Liza was right. I was afraid. What if once I opened my mouth and said something, the magic was gone? What if Spencer didn’t really want to know me? She just wanted to know that I was the girl from the bus and leave it at that. What if this was all just a game to her? She didn’t even know my name.

It wasn’t until about midway through my junior year that I got up the balls to try a new tactic. Spencer hadn’t provoked me or anything. It was just that one morning I stepped onto the bus, greeted Pete, and sat in a different seat, the one right next to Spencers. Pete gasped from his seat.

“Well somebody’s feeling bold,” he said in his grumbly voice and I stuck my tongue out at him through the mirror. I had known Pete for years, seeing as I’d been taking the same bus route since the sixth grade. Pete knew that I was gay, and that was only by coincidence. One morning this girl who had been stalking me clambered onto the bus and threatened to kill me if I didn’t love her back. She was crazy, a real nut job, and when I didn’t answer she grabbed me around the collar of my jacket and started shaking me. Before I could even react, Pete had her in his strong arms, and kicked her off the bus. He closed the doors and started the bus up again before looking at me through his mirror.