A/N: Not much to say about this besides that I actually really like it :)
Unnoticed
The girl sat across from the boy on the bus. She sat in her usual spot, and he sat in his. This had been the daily ritual for nearly 3 years. Every day was the same yet, somehow, different. Some days the girl sat on the aisle seat, and the boy the window seat, others the girl the window seat, the boy the aisle.
Some days they would both sit on the aisle, and others they would sit at the window seat. On the odd day (which would happen about once every year) they would sit next to each other, side by side. Those were the only days the boy and the girl would speak.
Every day the girl longed for it to be one of the days where they spoke. Every day the girl would sit on the bus and slouch in her seat, uninterested until that one boy with the styled blonde hair appeared and like every day she'd watch him as he walked down the aisle to the set of seats across from her. Some days he smiled at her, some days he raised his eyebrows but most days he walked on by and sat in his seat, totally oblivious to the girl across from him.
Every day the boy would purposely wait a few minutes before he got on the bus, standing with his friends joking and being loud but really all he could think of was that one nameless girl that sat across from him on the bus every day, the one who was always reading or listening to music, the one who never spoke to him first, the one who always had messy hair. He would walk up the aisle of the bus, some days his friend was sitting at the back of the bus, which always made him smile, some days he raised his eyebrows at him. He would take his usual seat across from the nameless girl, who was always too busy to notice him, and, some days he spoke to her, some days he sat next to her.
The girl would always get off the bus and stare as the bus drove away, with him. She would watch the blank space where it used to be and, as usual, wondered why she didn't talk to him. She would walk home wondering this same question over and over again, cursing herself for not taking the opportunity to just say hi. She would get home every day and walk to the bathroom just to look at herself in the mirror, just to see what she looked like. She would stand there, staring at herself standing still, hands by her side, staring. She decided everyday that she wasn't beautiful, that she would never be like the girls in the magazines, and she would never be like the slender, gorgeous girls at her school. She would remain the awkward, odd shaped, baby-faced girl she was at that moment when she stared in the mirror.
The boy would watch as the girl with the lovely long hair walked down the aisle to get off the bus. Once she was gone, out of site, he would curse himself for not simply saying hi. He was never nervous around girls, he could talk to them easily, but this girl was different, mature yet still childish. He would get off the bus, wondering why he couldn't talk to her. He would toss the question around in his head like a washing machine tossing around clothes. He would get home and throw his bag to the ground. He would lie on the couch and stare at the ceiling creating patterns out of the cracks that had worn themselves into the roof over the years. He would just stare at the ceiling, watching the patterns dance across his mind and question himself.
The next day they both got on the bus, girl first, then boy. Same routine they had fallen into the past 3 years. The boy sat in his seat, and the girl in hers. The boy kept throwing little sideways glances at the girl and the girl would catch them. The girl got off the bus, watching the bus drive away with him, still on it like he was every day. The boy got off the bus and stood, waiting for something, anything to happen. He walked home, lied on the couch and made patterns with the roof cracks. He stopped, sat up and went for a walk. He walked past a large puddle, reflecting the world around it like it was nature's mirror. He looked into the water then kept on walking, making up his mind.
On the bus the next afternoon the girl wasn't there, nor the day after, or the day after that and every day the boy got off the bus and watched the bus drive away wondering what ever happened to the girl who he loved too much to say hello to.