Elian clutched his worn backpack, face flushed with nervous anticipation. Bright summer sun glared off the concrete, catching at the corner of his eye. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck as he sat on the bench waiting for the bus. It was his first time wearing his new high school uniform. His family had just moved back to Country J because his father's work demanded it, and everything—school, people, even the air—felt unfamiliar.
"Ah, finally!" He breathed as a battered blue bus rumbled into view, brakes screeching as the doors swung open. Elian stood, brushing crumbs from his knees, glancing uneasily at the unfamiliar driver.
He had been waiting nearly ten minutes, though it felt much longer with his nerves buzzing.
"Sorry—excuse me!!"
A voice echoed from behind.
A boy sprinted toward the bus, tripping over a loose stone before catching himself on the scratched metal pole near the doors. He stumbled forward—straight into Elian.
"Sorry," the boy mumbled, barely making eye contact as he steadied himself with shaky hands. His ears were red with embarrassment.
Elian nodded silently, stepping aside as the driver barked at them to hurry.
Inside, the bus was stifling—packed with chattering teens in unfamiliar uniforms. Elian shuffled down the aisle, searching for an empty seat by the window. He loved looking outside during rides. The passing scenery always calmed him, reminding him of happy days back in his old town.
He pressed a hand to the window, letting the cool glass settle his nerves.
"Today's going to be good."
He whispered this to himself, smiling softly.
A moment later, the boy from earlier—cheeks still pink—slid into the seat beside him. His collar was crooked from the earlier rush. He fumbled with it, fingers trembling so much that Elian couldn't help but notice.
Without thinking, Elian reached over and gently fixed it.
The boy blinked in surprise.
Their eyes met.
And in that instant, something electric shot down Elian's spine.
Lub-dud. Lub-dud. Lub-dud.
His heart thudded violently in his chest, face heating.
The bus lurched forward, jolting them together before either could speak. Elian swallowed hard and quickly turned toward the window, pretending to be fascinated by the scratched glass as the awkward silence thickened between them—broken only by the hum of the engine.