For a few bucks, the bus was a pretty good ride so far. It didn't lurch hard enough for me to think I'd peed in my pants and well, sitting next to Knight again was fun. Even if he was typing sweet nothings into his laptop.
Seriously, it had been an hour and I really wanted him to talk to me now. Ask me something. If I wasn't such a buggerhead at starting conversations, I would've done so long ago.
"So," I wiggled my Converse-clad shoes. "The weather's nice."
He only stopped typing momentarily, "It is," and then went back at it.
Letting out a frustrated breath, I finally deemed it safe to take out my not-so-expensive phone that had been pinging for the past thirty minutes.
5 missed calls from Dad.
Another 10 from Mom.
And a crazy string of messages from Esra, my bestie.
First, I opened the messages, letting out a cackle—a whispered one of course.
