The Bus Ride
1014 Words
The bus was already buzzing with students laughter echoing, bags being shoved into overhead racks, sneakers squeaking against the floor.
The air was thick with excitement, and yet Tracy felt like an island in the middle of it all.
Her grip tightened around her sketchpad as she stepped onto the bus, scanning for a seat.
Most were already taken.
Some students were paired up, leaning into each other, talking animatedly.
Others had dumped their bags beside them, staking claim to both seats. Tracy walked slowly, her shoulders shrinking inwards.
A part of her had hoped she could sit near Jeremy, but even her cousin had found someone else. Not a surprise.
And then there was Matt.
He stood in the aisle beside an empty seat, one hand ruffling his already messy hair as he laughed with his teammates. The seat beside him was wide open. Tracy hesitated. He was… okay. Familiar, at least.
She took a cautious step toward him.
But just then, a tall boy from the hockey team shoved past her and flopped into the empty seat beside Matt, slapping his arm around his shoulders.
“Shotgun!” the guy grinned.
Matt blinked. “Bro you almost made me fall” he said as he looked over the guy’s shoulder, and that was when he saw Tracy, and opened his mouth like he might say something.
But he didn’t.
He just pressed his lips into a thin line.
And Tracy immediately turned around and walked away without another word.
She walked down the narrow aisle, heart sinking deeper with each step.
Empty seats were a luxury now. It felt like the walls were closing in, every pair of eyes a whisper waiting to happen.
She tried to move faster, but not too fast because she didn’t want to fall because the bus wasn't standing so straight.
Then she saw it , the last empty seat.
And her heart paused.
Anthony.
He sat still, earphones in, his dark eyes half-lidded, gaze fixed out the window, His bag rested by the window, leaving the aisle seat beside him untouched.
Her breath hitched.
She hadn’t expected this.
Not him.
Not the one person who made her chest ache just by existing.
The one person she’d felt that inexplicable pull toward. The one person whose scent haunted her sleep and stirred something ancient inside her even when he didn’t know it.
Her mate.
He didn’t know, of course.
How could he?
He would not recognize the bond as quickly until he reached 18 And aside from that Anthony… Anthony didn’t even like people touching him or sitting in the same space as him.
She’d heard the stories how he hated it when people got too close. How he once snapped at a girl for sitting close to him in class.
Or how he walked like the world owed him space, and he’d take it no matter who stood in his way.
But this wasn’t about rumors.
This was him.
And this was the last seat.
She hesitated beside him.
Her mouth opened slightly, unsure how to ask unsure if she should even try.
Maybe she could just stand until someone offered to switch. Maybe
But it seemed fate had other plans because the bus started and at that moment it gave a sudden lurch forward.
Caught off guard, Tracy lost her footing. Her sketchpad slipped from her hand. She stumbled and fell, hard, against the seat.
But not just the seat.
Him.
Anthony.
Her body landed in his lap, awkward, unbalanced, and completely mortified.
The moment their bodies connected, it was instant like a lightning bolt ripping through her chest.
Her entire body stiffened, nerves alive, skin tingling, her breath gone. It wasn’t just embarrassment.
It was the bond.
The mate bond.
It roared through her like fire and silk, something wild and soul-deep, something that made her forget the world for one suspended second.
Anthony froze.
Gasps filled the bus whispers crackling behind them like a fuse being lit. Everyone had seen it. Everyone was expecting the worst.
He was going to snap. He always snapped.
But he didn’t.
Anthony looked down at her, eyes still and unreadable.
Tracy scrambled upright, heart thudding in her ears.
“I...I’m sorry” she stammered.
He said nothing. Only reached out, slow, deliberate and guided her gently into the seat beside him.
His hand brushed her arm.
Another spark.
She felt it again, deep, aching, electric. Like her body recognized him. Like her soul was trying to speak through skin.
He turned back toward the window, pulled out one earphone, and said softly, without even looking at her,
“Are you okay?”
Tracy couldn’t speak.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
She gave the smallest nod and turned toward the window, her heart crashing against her ribs like it wanted out.
Why was it him?
Why did it have to be him?
The bus rolled on.
She could feel his presence beside her even in silence, even without touch. Her whole body was tense, alive, listening for every breath he took, watching the way his fingers tapped against his thigh.
She didn’t know when the exhaustion took over.
Didn’t know when her eyelids had fallen shut.
But when she woke up again, her heart stopped all over.
Because her head... her traitor of a head was resting against his shoulder.
She jerked upright.
And then froze again.
Her cheek felt damp.
Had she drooled on him?
Oh. God.
She turned her head ever so slightly and saw it a small patch of wet on his shirt.
Her chest tightened.
What if he noticed? What if he got angry because she drooled on him? What if
Then Anthony shifted.
His eyes blinked open slowly, calmly. No tension, no sharp intake of breath no wipe at the damp spot.
Instead, he stretched lazily, reached up, and tugged the curtain closed by the window beside her shielding her from the sun.
And that was all no outlash no angry reaction he just did that and went to sleep.
- Writer
