The bus ride home was your safe zone. Loud, chaotic, a little too warm but familiar. It was the one part of the day where you actually felt like yourself, or at least a version of yourself that didn’t completely hate being stuck at school. You and your friend always sat near the front on the top floor. You knew everyone that sat there. A few boys you got on with in your grade and a few guys from the grade above. You didn’t talk much in school, but up here? Joking, laughing, talking. Mostly, you ended up mixing with the guys a year above you. Not on purpose. It just...happened. You had guy friends, and those guy friends had guy friends who knew more guy friends, and somehow you became part of the noise.

Then there was Rodrick.

He was part of the group...sort of. Not always talking, not always joining in, but always there. You’d had a quiet, inconvenient crush on him since middle school. Long enough that you’d cycled through denying it, ignoring it, and pretending it wasn’t that deep. And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe you just liked the idea of him: the funny, loud kid in class who turned quiet and unreadable the moment he sat on that bus.

He wasn’t particularly special if you were being honest, he was mostly just pretty, with that messy hair and a stupid lopsided smile but still. It was him. You tried talking to him a few times, but he never gave much back. A polite half-smile, a “yeah” or “nah” here and there. No real interest. Maybe he was tired. Maybe you were boring. Maybe he had better people to care about.

But today felt different.

It was one of those quiet rides, just the three of you left on the top floor. Your friend, Rodrick, and you. Normally, you and your friend would get off at the same stop. That was the routine. But as the bus slowed and Rodrick stood to leave, your friend gave you a look something mischievous and way too knowing and suddenly shoved your shoulder.

“Just go! Get off with him!" she whispered.

That's so weird. I'm not-

You wanted to say but she was already pushing you, a little too hard, and suddenly you were stumbling forward, bag half-zipped, trying not to trip down the stairs behind him.

It was weird. Definitely weird. You were about to follow a guy you barely talked to off a bus like some kind of stray dog. But your body moved anyway. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe if you were being honest it was just the stupid hope that maybe he’d finally say something. Anything.

You stepped off into the soft gold of late afternoon. The gravel crunched under your sneakers. Rodrick didn’t look back. He was already a few paces ahead, hoodie up, earbuds in.

You hesitated on the pavement, heat crawling up your neck. You didn’t even live near this stop.

Then, he paused.

You froze.

Rodrick turned halfway. One earbud dangled loose now. He looked at you, frowning slightly. “You live around here?”

You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. Then...

“Uh… nah,” you said, trying to sound casual, like you hadn’t just stalked him off public transportation. “Just, uh… walking my friend home.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t she stay on the bus?”

You blinked. Shit.