Buses and Booze-ups.

I wriggled down in my seat, slowly bobbing my head to an old tune I heard on a movie, "Da-vieee Crockett, king of the wild frontier.... La la la, something-or-other about raccoons and antelopes..." A huge grin on my face reflecting in the glass window. "Oh my God. Look at his hair." I looked up from my reflection and turned to Bidji, the Indian exchange student from my class, who also went on the bus with me every day. "Look at it,"she whispered, "isn't it horrible!" I turned back to see a tall boy from St Jones, the local private boys college, with a slicked Mohawk. "It reminds me of that guy from that movie, what is it? Uh, Grease? That one about that car..."
"Yeah it's Grease." I confirmed.
"Yeah, you know that guy... His hair is like-" she gestured upwards movements with her thin hands above her head. "it's really, er, big!"
"Hmm, indeed." I answered absentmindedly, turning back to the window. "Did you know a person gets diagnosed with incurable cancer every 20 seconds?"
"Really?" Asked Bidji, "that's awful!"
"No they don't, you just made that up." Stef smirked, "You know what she's like."
Stef laughed, swinging her long, dark ponytail behind her and putting her feet up on the seat beside her. "Egrh, if that retarded kid tries to sit down by me again... Or that bloody transvestite!"
"Calm down, Stef!" I laughed at her. "Just because I find your temper tantrums amusing doesn't mean the whole bus wants to know, ok?"1

Stef began rummaging through her bag, very loudly. "Whatcha doing?" A tall, thin boy with dark blond hair wearing a St Jones uniform lent across the aisle.
"Oh, piss off, Jerry." Stef snapped.
"Looking for something?" Stef's twin brother dangled a plastic packet above her nose.
"How the-" Stef made a grab for the bag of tobacco. "Give it back! It's mine!"
Jerry pulled his hand away before she could reach the packet. "Uh, uh. Smoking is bad for you, what would mother think?"
Stef sat back in her seat, glaring at him. And God have mercy on the poor soul on the receiving end of one of Stef Jules' glares. "I hate you," from Stef said it all.
"I love you, my baby sister, and I don't care who knows it!" Jerry proclaimed to the bus, throwing his arms out in an over the top theatrical gesture.
Jerry's best friend Luke Goldman chuckled from his viewpoint on the seat next to Jerry, flipping his shaggy hair out of his eyes, making no attempt to calm his friend. "Had your pills this morning mate?" he joked. A large bellied, balding man glanced worriedly at the unfolding situation before him over the top of his newspaper. A few seats behind an impossibly small woman with dark curly hair shook her head, quite possibly thinking that Jerry Jules was the gayest teenage boy she had ever seen. Then maybe she had a second thought, and decided to put it all down to the increased amount of premature stress teenagers are under these days and hormones.2

"Give me my smokes!" Stef hissed.
Jerry leaned across the aisle once more, his face close to his sister's. "I'd prefer to keep them actually." He spoke calmly.
"I'd prefer to drown you. But I'll save that for later." Stef retorted.
Jerry turned his face to Bidji and me, sitting on the seat opposite Stef. "She loves me really."
Bidji giggled. Jerry joined in. Stef kicked him. "Giving them back?"
Jerry gazed at her quizzically. "Erm, no." He tucked the bag into his breast pocket. "Think of it this way, sister-mine: I'm saving your life, one flaming poison-stick at a time."3

Stef looked ready to strangle Jerry. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to laugh at them, I would, but Stef would be upset. Jerry sprang up out of his seat, holding onto the pole with one hand and steadying himself with the other. He held his hand to his face, sheltering his eye's from the sun, a broad smile creeping across his face. "Hey, Stefy, guess who's at the bus stop today."
Stef spun around, fast enough to get whiplash.
"Oh," she whispered faintly. She whipped a compact mirror out of her pocket. Holding it in her slender hand, re-going over her all ready perfect eye-liner, and meticulously patting down her hair. Jerry rolled his eyes exasperatedly. He then proceeded to push their schoolbags off the seat facing Jerry, they had been saving this seat specially -as they always did, for James Lorrie. James appeared to be a juvenile delinquent. Sagging pants - even in uniform he wore them low, his school shirt was always untucked, his tie either loose around his neck or completely missing in action. His hair was long, scruffily cut and dyed peculiar colours, today it was black with a large green patch at the front of his head. Hair like that wasn't tolerated St Jones. Unless the boy with such hair happened to be James Lorrie, who had spent the night in prison on numerous occasions and was rumored to be one of four vandals who broke into the local hospital store room, stealing trollies and smashing windows. I doubt this is true however, James and his "crew" wouldn't have the guts, or brains. As the bus approached he came into clearer view. He had rolled up the sleves of his dress shirt up to his shoulders, in my oppinion he seemed to think it made him look tough, but there isn't anything tough-looking about a tall, scrawny 16 year old boy with matchstick arms and a cigarette hanging out of one side of his mouth. "Good God!" Stef whispered, "isn't he incredible?" More of a statement than a question. Bidji pulled herself up a bit higher to get a proper look out of the window. 4

"He's got something on his arm," she said, making a face.
With that, Stef twisted her neck further, craning to get a peek. "Subtle, Stephanie." I told her.
"Be quiet, Willa." She waved her hand at me, without looking away from James.
Jerry giggled. "Noticed the tattoo, then?" Luke asked.
"He did that himself?" Bidji said, turning back to Luke.
Jerry cast his unnaturally large eyes over us, "Can't you tell?"
"Shut up!" Stef snapped. "He is gorgeous."
"He sure thinks so," I said quietly to Bidji, who laughed. Luke seemed to overhear, and laughed too. I couldn't help noticing how his eye's sparkle when he laughed. Cursing to myself, I looked away. I can't like Luke, I just can't. He is off limits. I know that, but surely just looking can't hurt?5

Stef snapped me back to reality by kicking my shin. It hurt. "Ow! What was that for!?" I cried deffensively, maybe she'd seen me staring at Luke, I hadn't thought it was that obvious! But just because they dated for a while doen't mean I can't have the occasional stare at him? I hit my head with hand, trying to rid my brain of the havoc wreaking thoughts.6

"What are you doing, you nutter?" Stef leaned over, grabbing my wrist to restrain me. "Bloody stop it!"
I bit my lip, "Sorry!" I whispered, meaning it.
"You were talking to yourself again," Bidji informed me. Maybe Stef hadn't seen me watching Luke then.
Stef leaned back, "I was going to say can't you two act normal for once?"
I rubbed my shin, "You beat me up to tell me that?"
"Don't be stupid," Jerry piped up from across the aisle, "If you wanted normal, you picked the wrong friends!" He put his oversized hand on Bidji's shoulder, "No offense," he said.
Bidji shook her head. "None taken," she replied, pleasant as always.
"Shut up! Here he comes!" Stef leapt into action, positioning herself carefully on her seat. "Act normal!" Stef hissed. Jerry snorted, but managed to sit down. 7

James paid for his ticket then proceeded to walk, looking at the floor, down the bus, as Jerry leapt up, blocking the aisle, "James my man, have a seat!" Another theatrical hand gesture towards the seat facing Luke was made and James dropped his schoolbag and sat down.
"I bet his bag is full of weed!" I whispered to Bidji.
Stef kicked me again, a little more viciously this time. "So, er, James..." She stuttered, "nice tattoo."8

I noticed the tattoo now, an ugly snake motif curled its way around his right shoulder. The edges were blurred, and it seemed to stop rather suddenly. 9

James looked at her, bewilderment showing clearly on his scarred face. I could almost see the wheels turning in his minuscule brain as he chugged over what this seemingly familiar girl had just said. "Oh... Yeah, my tats... Uh, cheers." He spoke slowly, slurring his words a little. One might assume he was drunk. I knew better. That was pure James, just as God intended. I went to kindergarten with that dropkick. James leaned over, whispering something in Jerry's ear, who raised his eyebrows. "That is Stephanie. My twin sister. We call her Stef," Jerry spoke slowly, looking at James as if he was trying to see through his skull. "You have known her since we were seven, okay?"
"Oh..." James nodded slowly. He smiled at Stef, practically making her have a fit. He lifted his hand in a limp wave. A Neanderthal attempt at charm.
Jerry turned to Bidji and I, his eye's wide and a look of shame on his pale face. "Good God," he said.
"Who goes to school wasted like that?" Bidji asked quietly.
Jerry snorted, "Wasted? He's always like that!"
Bidji turned to me, her thin eyebrows raised quizzically. She took out her mp3 player, slipping an earphone into my hand. I took it, placing it in my ear, trying to catch Stef's eye, but they were glued to James. "Bloody delinquent." I muttered. Bidji snorted with laughter. Jerry had turned his high-energy attention to someone sitting behind him, and became loudly engrossed in conversation about some computer game consisting of elves, swords, quite possibly rainbow unicorns with laser beams strapped to their robotic arms and God knows what else. James stared into space, a look of bewildered contentment on his slim face. I felt someone's eyes on me. I looked up uneasily, right into golden gaze of Luke. I smiled nervously, he returned the gesture. We both looked away quickly, embarrassed at being caught looking at one another, and even more embarrassed that the other had been watching. He really does have nice eyes, I thought to myself, and his floppy hair that constantly looks like it needs a haircut, a kind of coffee colour with a glossy shine to it, and when the sun hits it just right it picks up the blonde highlights and for a moment it looks like his hair is made of spun gold... I couldn't help sneakning another look at him, just to check he still looked the way I imagined him. I tried to look at him, keeping my head as still as possile, just turning my eyes, and there he was.