Chapter 3 #2
This was another part of our morning routine—Mom adjusting my hair one last time.
She would always tell me I looked the prettiest with the braid on display.
I used to like it when she said that. Now, I felt like a doll as she adjusted my hair, like it was a part of me, but not mine.
“Have a good day. Jaden, make sure she stays out of trouble.”
“No worries about that one,” he said with a teasing tone.
I gave Mom a hug before stepping past Jaden onto the front entryway, heading for the bus stop without looking to make sure he followed.
He did, of course, hustling to get in step with me after shutting the door.
“How was your day yesterday?” He glanced at me, hooking his thumbs through his backpack straps.
“Mine was okay. I mean, I have Mr. Norman for science, so that sucks, and I still am trying to get used to waking up early again, but it wasn’t so bad. ”
When I thought of yesterday, all of it was overshadowed by the boy who slammed into me in the hallway. The boy who seemed like two different people. Jaden would’ve flipped if I told him about it, but it was a passing thought. “My day was good. I like school.”
That again made Jaden laugh, like I’d told a joke that was moderately funny.
“That’s cool. I mean, I think the only period I actually like is lunch, but that’s great that you enjoy it, Gemma.
Hey, maybe some of your enthusiasm can rub off on me.
I’ll take anything I can get if I have to wake up at six-thirty. ”
I reached up and flicked my braid back over my shoulder, scratching at where it itched my neck. “Mmm.”
The funny thing was that before my birthday, I’d really liked Jaden.
He was a bit of a talker, but he was the only boy I’d ever been really allowed to spend time with outside my brother.
The only boy who cared enough to try, too.
I liked the broad way that he smiled, and I loved the vibrancy of his brown eyes.
I loved the way he could hold a conversation and that he looked like he could be an actor rather than a kid in chess club.
He was always handsome in the way he dressed. I liked the way he treated my parents.
After my birthday, I began really thinking it through—did I really like those things, or was I just going with what my parents said?
Because now with the rose-colored glasses off, being with him left me suffocated.
Trapped. It was a weird feeling, knowing the people around you were only there because your parents chose them to be, orchestrating every aspect they could. Even a potential love life.
“You okay?” Jaden leaned his head down level with mine, suddenly very close. “You seem lost in thought.”
“Just tired,” I replied.
“Tell me about it. You know, your mom gave my mom a new tea to try—have you tried the blend with valerian root? My mom said…”
I watched him speak with a buzzing in my ears, and I scratched my neck again.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Bus 32 to pull up along the curb of the road. The back seats were already filled to the brim with freshmen, sophomores, and the occasional junior who hadn’t gotten their license yet. It didn’t matter, anyway—I sat in the seat behind the driver.
“Morning, Gemma and Jaden,” Mrs. Savion greeted us when we stepped onto the exhaust-smelling bus, flashing me her purple-lipstick grin. She must’ve been well into her sixties, but her makeup was nothing short of flawless.
“Good morning,” I returned as I settled into the seat, laying my backpack as flat as possible over my lap. Jaden eased down beside me, careful to keep a few inches between our legs. I squeezed against the window, soaking up any amount of coolness from the metal to contrast the humidity.
“It’s always a good morning when we see you, Mrs. Savion,” Jaden said, buttering her up.
In the large rearview mirror that hung above the windshield, she shot us another smile. “Your mom raised you right, you know. Picture of politeness. Unlike that scoundrel back there—Mr. Kessinger! Get your feet off that window!”
One thing that I appreciated about Jaden was that he seemed to need his own private time once we boarded the bus. He’d talk my ear off as we walked to the stop, but as soon as we climbed aboard, he plugged in his headphones and turned on one of the sitcoms he liked.
Since my sliding phone wasn’t equipped for playing music, I fished my MP3 player from my backpack and plugged in my headphones, skipping until I found a song that was satisfying enough to listen to.
And then I checked out. Sometimes I closed my eyes, maybe even caught a few extra minutes of sleep like I did yesterday, but today, I stared out the window, letting my mind wander.
Mrs. Savion wound the bus down the bumpy road leading to Vista Villas, one of the only mobile home parks in Brentwood.
My eyes lingered on house after house that we passed, spotting kids’ toys in the yard or dogs on the porches.
The bus stop for Vista Villas was just off the main entrance road, and Bus 32 chugged to a halt, bouncing with each dip in the gravel.
Through the condensation on the glass, I saw him. He’d been sitting on top of a phone company cable box, but when 32 stopped, he stood. He rounded the front of the bus, where for a moment I couldn’t see him at all, but he was in full view when he stepped inside.
Hudson.
His hair was wet and slicked off his forehead, and his dark jacket was open at the collar, exposing his throat. He held his black backpack by the handle, and even from a quick glance, I could see that the fabric on the thing was worn and frayed, as if he’d used the same bag all of high school.
The driver held a hand up, stopping him from progressing further, and I quickly pulled out an earphone to hear. “Sit up front, Hudson,” Mrs. Savion told him, voice totally lacking the warmth she’d used with Jaden and me. “New rules. If you’re going to be on my bus, I have to be able to see you.”
“Works for me,” he replied in a voice that almost sounded mocking.
“I want to be able to see your pretty face, too.” And then, after shooting her a grin, he brushed past her outstretched hand, depositing himself into the seat on the opposite side of the aisle from Jaden and me.
He dropped his bag beside him, warning off anyone who dared to try and sit there.
Not that anyone probably would’ve. Someone would’ve sat three to a seat before cuddling up to the Grim Reaper.
Jaden snuck glances over at him, whereas I obviously gaped, even after the bus chugged into motion.
At any second, he could glance over and catch my curiosity, but here I was, bold enough to not turn away.
Hudson stared out the window the same way I’d been doing moments ago, but he looked a lot…
edgier. Maybe it was the hard line of his jaw, or the cross of his arms, or the firm stay away curve to his posture.
Gawking at him now, I was almost positive I imagined the scar on his cheek yesterday. The warmth from the boy on the bridge was completely absent in Hudson; everything about him radiated ice.
“You probably don’t want to stare,” Jaden whispered in my ear, worry in his voice. “No telling what he’d do.”
“Right,” I murmured, sitting back into my seat, allowing Jaden’s body to block my view. But even though Hudson was out of sight, it took a few more minutes for my pulse, and my thoughts, to settle.