Bus Report #961
A trio of chatty girls got on and pushed through to the back of the bus. Two of the girls sat in the back row. The third girl, in her high school sweatshirt and hat from her school's track team, looked at the teen boy, and then at her friends, and then she said, loudly, to the boy, "I'm gonna sit here, okay?"
He was deep in his own world but he nodded and moved his backpack and the girl sit down.
She stole a glance at the boy, then leaned forward and told her friends, "I'm just gonna say it. He is fine. This boy, he is fine."
Her friends giggled and whispered to her to quiet down.
She just shrugged and grinned, said, "He can't hear me. He's got them headphones." To prove it, she said, "Ain't that right? You can't hear a word I'm saying."
The boy did not react. Said nothing.
The rest of the ride, the girls chatted and giggled and the girl sitting next to the boy - let's call her Desirae, because her name was something like that - kept glancing over at him, fidgeting with her own phone, putting her own headphones on and then taking them off. The boy sat there, still not betraying if he knew what was happening.
At one point, Desirae nudged his knee by accident and he sat up straighter and looked over at her, smiling slightly. She roared with laughter with her friends. "I'm so sorry," she said to the boy. He just shrugged and when she did it again, he didn't respond.
They were funny, those teens. I wanted to tell the girl to be bold and go for it. Get his number, or his Facebook, whatever high school kids do these days (and yes, I know that makes me sound old!)
What's the expression? You miss the shots you don't take.