The sound of a bus stopping pulled me back to reality.
As I turned, lost in those thoughts, I heard a familiar voice from behind me whisper "Just in time."
For a moment, I wanted to turn around and see—but I stopped myself. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just a coincidence, and I didn't want to turn that into something it wasn't. Instead, I slipped my earphones from my backpack, put them on, and let the music drown out my thoughts. Or at least, I tried.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
I froze, and then slowly turned. A girl was standing there, struggling to keep her balance as the bus lurched forward. Her hand had landed on me by accident. I pulled out one of my earphones and asked gently, "Are you okay?"
Her eyes met mine for just a second, wide and uncertain. She gave a small nod, but she looked nervous. It wasn't completely silent on the bus, but in that moment, I could almost hear the quick rhythm of her heartbeat. I didn't know why, but I felt it. I said nothing more and slipped my earphone back in.
That was when I noticed her uniform—it was the same as mine. She must have been a freshman, I thought to myself. We stood there side by side, neither of us saying a word, waiting for the ride to end.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. I answered through my earphones without even checking who it was.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hey, bro, where are you?" a friend's voice came through.
"I'm on the bus. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes," I replied.
The girl turned her head toward the window, though I noticed her glance at me again for just a second. I said a quick goodbye and ended the call.
After that, the silence between us felt heavier. I felt awkward standing there, doing nothing, so I shifted awkwardly, patting my pockets for something to do, when my fingers brushed against something. A handful of candies I had shoved into my jacket earlier. I unwrapped one, placed it in my mouth, and then, without really thinking, I held one out toward her.
She hesitated, staring at me for a moment, for a moment, I thought I must look ridiculous—some stranger offering candy on a crowded bus. But after a pause, she shyly reached out and took it. She murmured something in a soft voice, but I couldn't hear her clearly over the music and the low rumble of the bus.
For a moment, our eyes met again. Neither of us spoke, neither of us needed to. We just stood there like that—silent, a little unsure, yet somehow connected.
And like that, we stood together in silence until the bus finally rolled to a stop at our destination.