The Girls on the Bus

The girls on the bus did not go ‘round and ‘round, Trent observed from behind his round glasses, through his chestnut-colored bangs, and over his Stephen King novel.  The girls he was looking at sat three seats ahead of him.  Their names were Kayla and Chantal.1

Kayla Williams had brown hair and oval-shaped glasses.  She was of average height and weight.  There were few blemishes on her fair, white face, which seemed always to be host to a sweet smile.  Chantal LaFrenz had short blond hair and was less than beautiful but could not be called unattractive on her better days.  She seldom spoke but, when she did, it was with a confidence to be admired by all.2

It was Kayla, though, that Trent truly admired.  Few would understand why, because few could actually understand Trent Matthews himself.  He kept to himself and had few friends.  A few of his friends were infamous druggies and boozers, and that earned him a false reputation.  He was a good person; he‘d just been hurt too many times.3

Trent was only seven years of age when his parents divorced, but he had always possessed a wisdom uncommon in his youth.  He had always been shy, but his uncle Jack had increased his shyness fifty-fold.  Trent‘s parents fought a lot, and Trent had gone to live with his uncle on numerous occasions.  Jack White had had a dirty habit of getting drunk and beating his young nephew.  Trent would never trust again.  His paranoia when it came to other people only increased as he aged and matured.  He trusted less and less.  He avoided peers and classmates, who, in turn, made sure he regretted having rejected them.  Trent‘s outlook on society and on people in general was now very bad to say the least.4

Kellen sat in the seat behind Kayla and Chantal.  He was six years old and in kindergarten.  However, he thought he was older.  The little rascal thought that he was big and tough, and he loved to talk to the girls in front of him, who humored the little boy.  Kayla always took care of him.  She helped him with his coat and back-pack when he got onto and off of the bus.  She showed him the love and care that mothers tend to show their children.5

Kayla Williams was different from anyone Trent had met before.  She gave him hope.  She was so kind, so caring.  She was a wonderful person, but few people seemed to notice. . . . Trent noticed.6

What Trent wouldn‘t give to tell Kayla how she made him feel.  He admired her so.  She gave him hope.  It was something very new, and Trent could never begin to explain it.  He put down his Stephen King novel and stared at the girl three seats ahead of him.  Then, the bus slowed and arrived at a halt, so that Kayla could get off.  (Chantal had already been dropped off at her home.)  Two stops later, Trent was at his mother‘s trailer.7

He went straight to his room; his mom was not home.  He found a Linkin Park cd that Jesse Hunter had burned for him and put it in his stereo.  Next, he lay down on his bed with the remote to the stereo and allowed the music to flow through him.  This was music he knew – music he could feel – and that‘s why he loved it.  It was depressing, but he knew little happiness.  And it was loud enough that, when he listened to it, no one could hear him cry.8

He wouldn‘t hear when his mother came home either.  But she would undoubtedly make him aware of her arrivel.  Not in a bad way, though . . . he hoped.  She liked to gripe at him about things – nothing in particular – just whatever bothered her.  He didn‘t blame her; she had no one else to take it out on.9

Trent tended to take things out on himself.  He cut himself sometimes.  He had stolen one of his mother‘s disposable razor heads for the blades.  Other times, he hit himself – sometimes with pillows, but more often with harder things.  He had no one to talk to.  Music and self-injury were his only forms of release.10

The next day was Wednesday.  Chantal was not on the bus, and, in his day-dreams, Trent found himself seated beside Kayla, having a nice conversation with her.  If only he weren‘t so shy.  He would love to have Kayla as a friend.  Instead, he sat three seats behind her, peeking over his Stephen King novel at her.  He imagined himself telling her – telling her how he admired her.  He admired the way she treated other people, he admired her kind personality.  He had never before known such kindness.  His day-dreams, however, did not come true.  One minute, he was watching her take care of the little boy behind her; before he knew it, she was gone and the bus was coasting to a stop at his home.  Another lost opportunity. . . . 11

It wasn‘t until Friday that Trent mustered up the courage to speak to Kayla.  It was after Chantal had been dropped off at her house, and the bus was not as full as it had been previously.  He walked up the aisle and plopped down in the seat behind her.  A moment later she turned around and said hello.  Trent did not reply, so she turned around to stare forward.12

Trent‘s mind raced.  What should he say?  What could he say?13

“H-hey, Kayla,” he started.  She turned around, and he 14

continued.  “Um, if I sit here, in this seat,” he paused, “w-will you take care of me like you take care of Kellen?”15

A large weight was lifted from Trent‘s chest but was, evidently, deposited in his throat.16

Kayla cocked her head and, before she was able to answer, the bus coasted to a stop.  Her house.  She stood up, still staring at Trent, looking confused.  The boy tried to speak but could not.  Finally, Kayla turned her head and exited the bus.17

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Trent had explained his peculiar question in a note he had passed to Kayla on the bus on Monday, but he had not approached her again in person.  She had written him back, and they had exchanged notes for over a week before Trent informed her that he would be moving in with his father, who lived in the next county.19

Trent had only written Kayla one letter since he had moved.  He had explained how alone he felt now.  He had no one.  He was alone, and he was afraid.20

A week after receiving Trent‘s letter, Kayla read her friend‘s name in the obituaries.  He had shot himself in the head.21

Kayla found Trent‘s letter and, though she mourned her friend‘s death, she could not help but feel happy that she had been there to supply him hope, however shortly he was able to hold on to it.22