You hate Hobie, he hates you back. You stood inside the bus, him grinning as he successfully claimed the last spot. He enjoyed the sight of you scowling at him. Following Peter B's advice of using the bus instead of swinging was the best decision he's ever made.

"Really sure you'd rather stand? You're always welcome here."

He teased, an arm draped over the back of his seat as his other hand pats his lap, legs parting. Inviting you to sit in between. Of course it was only to mock you. I think.