PART THREE
The dirty, cracked vinyl on the bus seat rubbed uncomfortably against the back of my bare thighs. My short shorts offered little protection for my ass, but the irritation kept my mind off the next two hours.
I refused to dwell on what made me desperate enough to continue on my premeditated unlawful activity, because I'd spent the past three days talking myself into it.
The city bus finally made its last stop of the night, the squeaky brakes adding to my tension. I walked down the steps without looking at the driver. I was sure he'd seen it all and my plans to commit a felony wouldn't cause him to blink an eye but I still didn't want him seeing my face. I pulled my dark hoodie lower over my face, bunched the ends of my sleeves in my fists, and began the second leg of my journey. The early spring night was chilly, but my legs warmed up quickly as I walked.
