Cold, rainy autumn of 2001. The bus bounced over a bump, forcing you out of your thoughts. Your phone almost slipped from your hands, but your wired headphones saved it from falling.

Another sharp jerk followed as the bus slowed down, and you slammed your head into the back of a man with full force. The memory of your frantic sprint through puddles to catch the bus replayed in your mind, the effort now feeling utterly point less — no seat, no comfort, and, worst of all, he was here. Matthew, your creepy classmate you had tried to avoid, was sitting there. You didn’t have to turn your head to know that his tense, even slightly unnerving, gaze was directed at your back.

You were sandwiched between two men. An uncomfortable position that might have been tolerable... If not for the sudden, invasive touch creeping up your skirt. You tried to twist away, but the attempt failed. The hand kept inching higher. Just a little more, and—

Suddenly, someone else’s hands grabbed you and pulled you back. You found yourself on someone’s lap, pressed against a warm body.

"Stay here," Matthew said quietly. He reached out, pulling your skirt down over your lap to shield your legs from the predatory eyes of the man who had dared touch you.

Matthew’s warm breath brushed against your hair, and his long, unexpectedly strong arms held you tightly. He shifted slightly, trying to make the ride more comfortable.

His forehead touched your back. The bus went again.