Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with a new one-shot of mine called... So The Wheels In The Head Turn. It is a little comedy and friendship idea that hit my head, sprouting off into a romance pairing. I have never written an Until Dawn story before, but I've read and reviewed in the archive for awhile and you all seem like an awesome, amazing group of people and I hopefully I'll have new one-shots grace the presence of this archive eventually. We are having seven of the eight characters in this piece, and poor... poor unfortunate Sam is being left out despite being my favorite character (isn't she all?) Some characters will have their stereotypical traits drawn on a little bit, such as in poor Matt, but it is a fair warning. A few of the characters are older, given if they aren't heading to school then they're older than eighteen. Enjoy!


The lone bus stop at 5th street. One wooden bench with steel sides and a small overhead to protect from the rain. A little crimson and pallid sign marking its territory, Express Fairways. Often times this bus stop would be ignored, there were far larger and more luxurious stations elsewhere in town, but sometimes people needed their alone time and came to the bus in the one hour it operated, 7:30 A.M to 8:30 A.M. In one particular morning, a rather lukewarm day, then did the world of madness at Express Fairways begin.

The first arrival walked in. Dark ebony hair laying by the face, a scowl plastering an already despicable expression. Awful clothing style, ugly couture boots, a black scarf and shawl... dark ripening cherry black lipstick smeared messily over faint rosy lips. Only went by Emily. The distressed and angry lady slammed her bag down against the concrete, scuffing against the side of the bench.

"Ah... dammit." she hissed.

Emily bit her tongue to suppress a scream. "Doctor said to calm yourself... no need to lose your mind over a bench leg. At least... I don't think so."

She already had enough trouble with her boyfriend dumping her last night, then to have the alarm by her bedside decided to explode all over the room. Cat died, buried in the backyard... her day was not going as planned, and she'd probably be fired for walking in a second late, as the boss always says being punctual is pivotal. Emily sighed to herself, rather enjoying the peace and quiet, snuggling up against the right side of the bench as comfortably as possible, shutting her eyes. Last night's craziness left little hours in the day to sleep through, and the business woman was running on a three, four hour rest tops. However... her wish would not come true. Of course it wouldn't.

"Hello!" a chipper voice called out to her.

The dark haired woman opened her eyes, looking outward in disgust at where the voice had come from. Someone could be seen jogging to her out in the hazy distance, the person wearing simple faded jeans, a raggedy button down, and an unclean, slicked back oil mop for hair. Emily rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath.

The person had stopped at the left side of the bench, waiting patiently. "Hello." they tried again.

Emily cursed silently to herself. "This person..." she gritted her teeth, daring to open an opal eye. "Hello."

A young lad of about twenty sat down next to her, sighing in exasperation. "The name's Josh." He outstretched a hand.

She eyed it curiously. Would it explode like her alarm clock? Emily shook it begrudgingly. "Emily." she said bitterly, before closing her eyes again.

"Yeah... good to meet you," Josh continued rambling. "Today is supposed to be like a high of seventy-two or something. Lukewarm weather, no? Reason for me mentioning the temperature is because... well, you see... I've got these plants on my back porch. If the temperature drops to a cold enough degree, they'll die. That means I wouldn't have anyone to talk to." he hung his head down, evidently hurt by the fact he imagined floral death.

It got the businesswoman to open an eye once again. "You talk to your plants?"

"Yeah."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Uh?"

Josh's expression changed drastically from calm to a wide open mouth like a fish, waving his hands back and forth incessantly. "Oh no! It's not what you think, no ma'am. Not like I'm crazy or anything!"

"Right... totally." she said sarcastically.

"Talking to plants is healthy for them, actually! Says it helps them grow from the stems downward. I- I also do it for another reason."

"And what would that be?" Emily asked, totally uninterested. Sarcasm dripped off of her words, like a leaky faucet into a stainless steel sink.

"I don't have many friends," Josh frowned. "So, they're a good substitute. I get to talk to something that'll hear my words, plus they grow! And what's even better is that the plants won't turn their backs on you when times are tough! Of course... if they die, then that's a different story."

That managed to stir Emily from her sluggishness. She frowned out of sympathy. "This boy has no friends so he resorts to plants? That's- that's sad," A forced pat on the hand later, and she spoke again. "I'm really sorry to hear that, truthfully. I know what it is like to not have many friends, so I understand completely."

Josh locked eyes with her, before busting out laughing. "Nah! I'm just kidding! I am about to go over to a friend's house right now. Parents have the car, so I need to take the bus. My buddies and I are gonna go see a movie later, after a morning of beer and billiards!" He made a crazed smile.

Emily's veins burned with a ferocious fire. She slumped against the bench, childishly. "You know, I hate you way more than I did when we first started talking."

His eyes saddened. "Oh, I'm sorry-"

She interrupted him swiftly with a glare, plus the chop of her hand for emphasis. "Don't! Look... Josh, or whatever the hell your name is... I had a really, and I mean really rough night last night, and I'd appreciate some peace and quiet. Just need to get to work and maybe on the way get some shut eye. So being quiet would be the most ideal thing at the moment."

Josh nodded, as if he understood. "Got it!"

"Thank you." she sniffed disdainfully, closing her eyes again.

The boy stared at the sleeping lady before pulling out his phone. He swiped through a few apps, bored out of his mind. The angel on his shoulder told him to keep quiet, the devil screaming at him just to poke Miss Emily to see the reaction. He smiled when he found Angry Birds, a lifetime favorite ever since it dropped so many years ago, felt like eons actually.

A little loading screen popped up from the blanketing darkness of the blank screen, and the light jingle trickled out of his phone speakers. Josh tapped the screen, and started off at level one. Problem was... the guy had never been good at Angry Birds. Never has, certainly wouldn't start now, and never would be. He tapped the screen, sending a bird flying a mere centimeter on screen. "Dammit," he cursed to himself, tossing a glance over at the sleeping Emily. She breathed lightly, but nothing else. He tried again, this time overshooting the pigs by a mile. "Dammit," he swore louder than the first time. The businesswoman stirred, but tried putting it off. Josh gave another attempt, at his last bird. He watched gleefully as it contacted the target... but didn't give him enough points. "Dammit!" he yelled.

Emily's eyes flung open and she sat straight up, slapping Josh across the face. "Can you shut up?"

The male rubbed his cheek, slightly offended, but he did wake her up after all. "Sorry! It- it was my last bird..." Josh explained sheepishly, cheeks burning.

She looked at him hopelessly. "I'm surrounded by idiots, aren't I?"

He frowned, not quite getting the joke. "I don't see any mirrors around here." Josh supplied.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously close to slits, like a viper coming in for a kill. "What did you say?"

"I said, I don't see any mirrors around here otherwise-"

"Real clever! I get it! Now, do you mind?" Emily screeched at him. She was not going to start off with this fangled bullshit now. The guy flat out insulted her to the face! And he didn't even know he did it, either!

She went back to leeching onto the metal leg. Josh bit his lip, seeing she hadn't closed her eyes. "That's a nice coat." he drawled hopelessly.

Emily raised an eyebrow, looking at him. "Thanks?"

"Yeah... did you know-"

The businesswoman lurched forward once more. "Josh! Holy shit!"

He collapsed back into his seat. "Sorry..."

"Josh, you seem like a really sweet and nice guy and all, but I had a real rough night last night, okay? Could you just sit quiet for five minutes?"

"I suppose..." Josh mumbled.

"Okay, sounds more like it." Emily went back to sleeping.

Silence enveloped the two momentarily, her breathing passing over the ugly, awful outfit while he stared again, lost in the clouds and bored once more. Josh passed over memories in his head from last night, coming across a particular one. A musical he saw on television. A tap number. He began tapping his feet against the sidewalk, stimulating the number he remembered watching. Fred Astaire in a suit, bowtie, cane... singing. Josh erupted into dance, without getting up of course. He was about to belt a chorus line when the loudest clearing of a throat ever heard... ever, interrupted him.

"Oh. Sorry." he apologized again.

"I understand. Somewhat. Listen to music?" Emily pleaded, nearly at wits end.

"Yeah..." Josh liked the sound of that. "Great idea!"

"That's what I thought," she yawned, pressing a fake gun up to her head and shooting it to mimic death. "Just don't be an asshole like my boyfriend and we're good."

Emily closed her eyes again, while Josh dug deep into his jean pocket, greedy fingers snagging a golden treasure. He pulled out a pair of headphones, pale paint gleaming off of dancing sunbeams. He inserted the jack into the speaker, and put the buds in his ears. Upside down. Right one in left ear, left one in right ear. God, help this poor soul. He roamed through his playlist, clicking a song. Notes from a strummed guitar hit his ears before he belted... completely tone deaf. His vibrato stunk so horrendously the entire glass pane covering the bus stop shook. "Sense at all! Yeah!" Josh sang, his notes killing Emily's warm vibes, causing her to snap furious opal orbs awake to glare at the boy, who was currently singing with his eyes closed, head titled in an awkward position.

"I'm giving this idiot five seconds to run..." she thought.

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Josh sang, opening his eyes and then glancing at Emily to find her wicked glare shooting daggers at his heart. His mouth hung open weirdly, eyes alert and wide. "Sorry..."

"Yeah... yeah, I know you are." Emily said sarcastically, finishing the lyrics from the song as it was recognizable.

"It's a good song?" he opined, shrugging weakly.

"It is, won't lie," she sat up. "But... who sings it, again?"

"Oh! Beth Washington!" Josh grinned.

Emily didn't bat an eye. "Let's keep it that way. Please. For the sake of music and all ears everywhere."

His heart panged. "Okay..."

The loud, screeching sound of brakes brought both dark heads of hair to look in attention, a new shape blocking the other side of the street. Emily's lips parted, her heart soaring. Her bus! Slick onyx wheels, a brand new coat of emerald swathe paint being donned behind a ghostly cardinal shade... her carriage looked beautiful.

"I guess this is your bus?"

"Yes!" the businesswoman leapt to her feet almost too excitedly. She began to make her way to the bus.

"So, I'll see you around?" Josh asked, giving a faint smile.

Emily paused on the stairs, tapping her chin. "How about... no? Yeah, that'll work. No, dear Josh, we will never see each other again. I'll never see you again in my life, and I plan on keeping it that way. Thank the lord!" Her voice got fainter and fainter as she made her way onto the bus, doors slamming shut.

Her poor antics left Josh sitting alone on the bus bench, as it squealed away. "I- I'm a nice guy, aren't I?" he said to himself, wringing his hands. He passed a glance upwards, gasping as a crude gesture from Emily greeted his gaze, the bus flying by. "You jerk! Middle finger to you too!" He sat back down, scooting over to where she last resided, warmth still presiding over the spot. "I know I'm a nice guy. Who the hell am I kidding? Joshua, you're a nice dude!"

As he scooted over, a new face appeared down the block from where he had come from. A slightly older guy, probably in his late twenties, walked up to the bus stop, head down and sullen. A backpack swung on his back, something with a black handle sticking out of it. Josh looked up, a smile growing on his face. "Oh, he- hello..." he started off strong, before collapsing back into himself after seeing the guy's expression.

The new arrival made a face, almost sticking out his tongue. "Yeah, hello."

"How are you?" Josh tried again.

A glare met his question. "What do you think?" Harsh...

"Not well, I presume."

"No." the new guy sniffed.

"Want to talk about it? I'm great with listening and advice and stuff. Least, I've been told so." Josh rambled.

"You wouldn't want to know."

"Come on... try me." the perky male went to slug the guy's shoulder, wisely freezing at the next pointed glare.

The guy sighed in exasperation, making it expressively known he truly despised the words coming out of his mouth. "My girlfriend is cheating on me..."

"Ouch." Josh winced.

"With my brother."

"Oh..." the perky male scratched the back of his head, scooting farther over. "Sorry... sorry to hear that..." he paused, wanting the other guy's name.

He got the memo. "Oh. It's uh... it's Mike."

Mike seemed genuinely conflicted, happiness and anger thwarting each other as his eyebrows furrowed, light however dancing in his eyes. Dark olive black hair matted down nice and neat from the front, a rugged jacket and sweatpants acting as his strange outfit. He eyed Josh, seeing the curious guy eyeing his bag.

When Mike had put his bag down, it caused one of the zippers to fall, revealing the gleaming surface of a bat, the head slightly rusted. Josh couldn't help but bore his eyes into the sleek equipment, bile daring to make an appearance out of his throat. "So... Mike, what position do you play?"

"Pardon?"

"The b- the bat. In your bag... so what position do you play?"

Mike nodded, getting the gist. "Oh... here's the thing," he pulled out the bat, the metal rod in essence stopping at around three and a half feet. "I don't exactly play baseball."

"Cr- cricket?" Josh squeaked out.

"Nope." the male smiled rather wickedly, running a well toned hand down the side of the bat.

"So... what are you going to do with that bat, then?"

"Oh nothing..." Mike drawled on. "Just, kill my brother with it. Smash his head in, have blood spill over the cobblestones. Simple stuff, really."

Josh pressed himself as far as he could up against his side of the bench. "Really now? Why- why that's just dandy, man. Dandy!"

"Glad you think so."

"Thanksgiving must be a blast for your family, huh?"

Mike laughed, hitting Josh in the arm with the bat. "That's hilarious dude, you should totally be a comedian."

"Thanks... but I was considering Herbology... or filmography."

"Sounds cool to me. So, where you headed?"

"Oh you know... the mall," Josh laughed weakly. He really didn't want to be around this guy any longer. Mike the Maniac! Huh... it fit. The male faked as if he was hearing a sound. "Hey... is that my bus I hear?"

Mike followed his ear, then pointed with the bat, glancing Josh's nose, causing him to yelp. "Yeah... about two blocks down the road."

"No... that's okay. Besides, my four month New Year's resolution was to get more respiratory and cardiovascular work in. It's alright, I'll run!" the other male said hurriedly, getting up and bolting, before tripping expertly over an untied shoelace.

"You okay?" Mike asked anxiously, getting up.

Josh tensed. "I'm alright," he dusted himself off. Getting to his feet, he scowled. "You go have fun killing your brother," A pause, then a frown. "Wait... what? Don't have fun killing your brother, that's an absolutely terrible thing to do!"

"What did you say, punk?"

"No- nothing! I mean... what a nice seventy-two degree day, right? Look, I gotta go!" Josh yelped, racing from the bus stop, seeing that his bus indeed was down the street, and luckily for him, going the opposite direction of the bat swinging madman named Mike.

Speaking of him, Mike huffed to himself, scooting his bag over to where Josh previously occupied. "Stupid people and their incapability to understand the world. I'm pissed off and get the right to do whatever the hell I want, because I can!"

The angered dude grabbed the bat, feeling it up in his grip. He turned to his side to practice a few swings, imaging a perplexed face of his older brother as glorious crimson rivers decorated the sidewalks and the walls. Smash once. Smash twice. Bash the skull here... bash the skull in there. Stomp on a few toes, break a few teeth. Nothing no hospital couldn't fix. He'd be in the morgue in no time at all!

Mike had been so taken up in the fantasy pleasure of killing his brother that he hadn't heard the clicking-clacking sounds of a pair of heels behind him. Up walked the fourth person to take the Express Fairways bus service. A woman in a very revealing blouse and skirt rummaged in her purse, not looking where she was going, walking straight into the bench and nearly falling over into it.

She fussed over her hair, digging into the monstrous mustard colored purse at her lap for a comb, lipstick, and a mirror. She smoothed down her hair, then uncapped the lipstick, a glistening and glossy tube of prime red meeting her actions. The woman dabbled the lipstick onto her plump lips, using the mirror as a guideline. Slowly her eyes trailed, before they landed on Mike and everything in her body screamed. Hot boy alert! Hot boy alert! She had been so focused by the bat wielding man that she hadn't noticed where the hand holding the lipstick went, the streak going far beyond her lips to rest by her right ear. Looked downright terrible.

The woman smiled to herself, making sure the cleavage stayed out and nice for the whole world to see. She gathered her things back into the purse, Mike having put the bat back in his bag, looking off in the distance like some lost puppy. She hopped over once, light as a feather, causing zero disturbance to the bench. She hopped again, so close to him. Then, she slammed her butt into his, making Mike jump, before looking at her bewilderedly.

She smiled flirtatiously, holding out a finely manicured hand. "Hello there. The name is Jess."

Mike raised an eyebrow. Was this girl serious? He shook her hand, causing Jess to frown, as she expected him to kiss it like a lady of the royal British court. "Same to you, too. I'm Mike."

Jess recoiled, seeing that the simple, 'Hi, how are you' didn't work. She tried for a sharper approach. "My house isn't too far away from here... if you wanna-"

"That's really forward of you." the dark haired male scowled.

Bright diamond eyes widened, a hand going to her mouth. Jess felt absolutely mortified, her left hand immediately seizing a strand of her lemonade fishtail braids. "Was I not supposed to say that?"

"No..." Mike rolled his eyes. Perfect. Just what he needed. Another person in the world who had no damn clue probably even what color the sky was. "That's not the greatest pickup line."

"I swear... my sister used to open up with that one all the time," she fretted. Jess shrugged her shoulders rather lamely. "Then again, she did get pregnant at fourteen so..."

"What a role model."

"No, not really," Jess laughed, placing a hand on Mike's knee. His look could've been described as a mix between confusion and utter disgust. "In fact, to this day we still give her gummy worms as a gag gift for her birthday!" She giggled once again, before unleashing a snort that rivaled a pig.

Mike's demeanor completely cracked. "Oh my god... did you just?"

Jess's bravado and aplomb confidence shattered, and she turned away from the one guy in the world to cause her heartbeat to race. "I haven't done that since band camp..." she whispered, but the blonde couldn't quite tell if he had heard, so she quickly added, "I mean... I haven't done that since I was at the club. With the girls. Getting totally wasted. Y'know, the simple stuff."

"Totally."

"Totally." she dragged on the awkwardness to a perfect T.

"You- you're some type of woman." Mike said, trying to not be as mean as he honestly wanted to. Slut. Skank. Whore. Bitch. We can do this game all night long, madam.

"I know," Jess blushed. "I try."

"Clearly not enough." he thought.

She turned, her back to him, before falling down and lying against him slowly. Mike brought his hands up in a gesture as if he was surrendering to the peace, his expression screaming, 'I'm not doing a thing! All her!'. Jess sighed. "I could be better you know... because if there was only a big, strong, strapping... how old are you?"

"Twenty-five?" Mike eyed her.

"Twenty-five year old man to sweep me off my feet!"

He pushed her off of him, almost rather a shove sending her all the way to the other side of the bench. "Your subtlety, Jess, is overwhelming."

"I know. I can be a catch." Now the two were facing each other, and Mike managed to get a long good look at her, almost bursting out in laughter at the lipstick smear coating the right side of her face.

"Um- Jess-" he tried in between giggles.

Her face turned to horror at the drop of a hat. "Oh my god! Is there something on my face?"

"You- you got a little..." Mike trailed off.

"Shit..." she cursed. "Is it bad?"

Mike had to turn this around somehow. "Well, if you want... I could draw on the other side of your face and then at the next Comic Con convention you could cosplay as the Joker!"

"That's mean! Don't laugh," Jess pouted, rubbing her cheek with the palm of her hand furiously. She rubbed for a good minute straight, turning back to Mike. "Better?"

He burst you in raucous laughter once more. "Nope!"

"Well... help me then!"

"It's your problem, not mine."

"I thought men were supposed to be amazing, loving creatures who'd do everything for you!"

"You thought wrong, then." Mike shrugged.

The two looked up at the screeching of bus tires, a new Express Fairways vessel arriving for docking. Mike stood up, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. Jess stretched out a hand. "Please-"

"I must say... thank you. Thank you for making my day so much better than it already was," Mike grinned. He began walking towards the bus. "I'll be thinking about it when I'm beating my brother senseless..." he stopped, hoping she didn't catch that, brain searching for something Josh had thought up of earlier. "I mean... when I'm playing cricket."

Jess stomped a foot. "Don't go!"

"Too late!" Mike called, his bus pulling away from the station, his voice whipping into the wind as rubber squealed, and smoke rose. His ride roared away, leaving the blonde alone in her embarrassing solitude.

With Mike leaving, it left Jess alone as she slowly and mournfully scooted over to the right side of the bench, leaving the left side open. She put her head in her hands, thinking darkly and deeply. Damn lipstick. "Screw you cosmetics. Screw you Mr. Strong and Gleaming. Never should trust a man, right?"

As she fretted and fraught, someone bustled onto the scene. A younger boy, around sixteen or so, marched up to the bus stop. A gleaming wisp of sunshine hair combed upwards to a point, warm dark frames sitting on a nose in front of glittering emerald eyes. A thick, broad coat and laced up boots. A high school student. Who took express buses to school. Not something seen every day, but on the morning such as one like this, it'd be alright to let such a person sit down.

The boy's name was Chris. Late to school, like always.

He looked over and noticed Jess, but didn't quite catch the sad part of her. Warning bells rang off in his head. Alert! A girl has been spotted! Chris placed his backpack down on the ground, then quickly smelled his breath. Seemed alright. He puffed up his chest, deepening his voice in an attempt to win over the distressed lady. "Hello there, I'm-" he started, before seeing her dejectedness. "Hey..." he scooted over, closer to her. "What's wrong?"

Jess looked up, blue eyes full of sadness, and she showed him her face. "This." A manicured finger pointed at the lipstick smear.

"Oh." Chris looked down.

"Yeah." she trailed off.

The schoolboy smiled, a light bulb going off in his head. "Hey! I got something that can fix that!"

"You do?" Jess asked hopefully.

"Yeah," the blonde male said absentmindedly, rummaging in his bag. "Petroleum jelly! See... it acts as an enzyme against the metaphorical dirt that is your conundrum." Chris explained.

All she could do is blink, lost in the grand scheme of big words and dictionaries. Horrible memories of math class. "What?"

He bit his lip, realizing the smart talk perhaps went too overboard. "It gets the red stuff off of your cheek."

"Oh!" Jess's eyes lit up. Maybe her day wouldn't end so badly after all.

Chris pulled out a plastic bag, ripping it open. A clear container sat inside, which he took out also. Unscrewing the cap, he reached in his pocket for a crumpled up napkin. He swathed the napkin in the jelly, fumes of grape and even fouler scents hitting his nose, causing the kid to gag. "Can you look the other way for me, please?"

She tried her best to not look at the goop currently dripping off of the napkin. "Sure."

"Great, just let me get the last remnants of that horrific mess-up you caused," he trailed off, smashing the napkin against her face. Cool, slick jelly sunk deep into Jess's skin, causing her to shudder. Such inhumane products touching such a delicate and expensive complexion. Then again, she had already messed it up once. He rubbed and rubbed, Chris putting his back into it, nearly sending Jess to slam into the bench with her face. At last, he removed the napkin, cleaning all the jelly and all the lipstick. "There. Done."

The blonde girl opened her eyes, which had been closed for what seemed like a millennia. She reached into the purse and found the mirror. A blank canvas stared back at her, good and clean like normal. "Wow! That was great! I could hug you," she said. Chris took this as an opportunity to get a freebie, practically lunging for her arms. Jess blinked, putting a hand to his chest. "Whoa. I said I could. Doesn't mean I will."

The boy with the glasses sat back dejectedly, kicking the plastic bag away. "Well... that's harsh."

"I'm sorry. You're just not my type." Jess shrugged her shoulder haplessly.

"I get it," Chris sneered, half snarling. "Why would you want to like someone who is nice and pays attention to you... someone who actually cares when there is just a countless number of douchebags out there waiting and willing to cheat on you and pay no attention to you whatsoever."

Jess stared at him blankly. "Exactly..."

"Story of my life." he grumbled.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Chris turned to face her. "Well... I've been with countless-"

"Countless? Really?" Jess balked, a tan eyebrow rising. No way did this geek manage to snag girlfriends in the first place.

He bit his lip, blushing lowly in the cheeks. "Okay... four. Anyways, besides the point. I've been with four girls, as you've so kindly made me announce... they've been terrible. I've been dropped by them for a jock with the IQ of a small animal and who shows less compassion than that of a serial killer. Like ones with bats who want to kill their brothers for cheating on their girlfriends or something."

"Sorry to hear about that."

"I bet you are. Just so you can laugh about it later." Chris said softly.

"No... that's not true at all."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Jess shrugged. "I bet you... there are probably a countless number of girls out there who'd kill for a guy like you."

"Uh huh. Who?" he challenged her.

She bit her lip. "I don't know many. But what I do know is... there's one here, sitting on this bench..." Jess drawled.

The two blondes looked at each other, Chris's eyes swimming in pure passion. The two leaned forward, inching slowly together. As their lips were about to connect, the two were just about to kiss, Jess opened her eyes and thought twice about kissing a damn nerd. "Whoops! Got to go!" she cried, leaping to her feet, snatching her purse, leaving Chris to face plant onto the bench and kiss cold wood.

The befuddled boy sat up, fixing his clothes as best he could, straightening his glasses. "Okay... I'll see you around then? C- call me!" he called out. Chris made a tsk noise with his tongue, as Jess had already vanished down the block, long gone. She'd forget about him for sure. "Day can't get any worse, can I?" he yelled out to the sky. In response, a low rumble of thunder met his shouts. "Damn!" Chris stomped a foot.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a textbook, his chemistry textbook namely and began flipping through it, stopping at the section detailing the atomic theory. Groundbreaking stuff. Chris checked his watch, eying nervously the little black tick mark that was the minute hand. His bus needed to be there in about ten minutes or he'd be late, to school of all places! If there was one place on the Earth he did not want to miss, that sure took the cake.

While the blonde dove into knowledge, a sixth person to change the scene of Express Fairways waltzed up, whistling and chatting on the phone like a Chatty Cathy. Short, almost buzz cut oak hair, suave chocolate eyes, an amaranthine stitched up jacket thrown over his shoulders, a pair of jeans... the male walking up screamed the stereotypical likeness of a jock who perhaps who had an amazing brain or one that left much to be desired. A small etched 'M' sat against the right shoulder of the jacket, and the guy hammered away into his phone, chewing gum obnoxiously.

"What? Don't lie to me. No way! Dude, you cannot kick a fifty yard field goal!" he shouted belligerently.

Chris broke from his reading, frowning heavily. "Excuse me?"

The man put a finger up, to give the geek a 'hold on momentarily' pause. "Wait, what? No!" the jock shouted once again.

"Excuse me!"

Another finger, this time the jock breaking out into a cocky grin. "Dude, you're just jealous because I had her first. So how does my dick sound in her-"

Chris had it, slamming his book. "Hey! Dude, why don't you just shut the hell up?"

The jock froze, looking at the blonde then back at his phone. "I'm sorry man... gonna have to call you back," he whispered, before turning it off. Chris rolled his eyes, not seeing that the guy he so rudely made turn of his device, storm over to him. "Who the hell do you think you are, man? What gives you the right-"

That's all it was needed to send Chris off, and the boy jumped up from his seat, the other guy having a good three to four inches on him. "Listen to me, dude! I'm not here to hear you piss and moan, alright," he screeched. "I had a crap day! Woke up late because I stayed up all night spending my energy to study! I dropped a third of my book report on the way here, phone battery is about to die, and I almost got into the grasp of a girl who was eight times out of my league," With every new phrase, Chris had gotten closer and closer to the guy, now pushing him up against one of the posts of the station. With every word, Chris then pushed a finger into his chest. "So how about you shut up before you get messed up!"

Silence enveloped the two, hot breath streaming from Chris's lips, the jock then clapping him on the back, laughing. "That's hilarious, dude."

Chris frowned, wincing. "Thanks?"

"So how hot was she?" the guy asked.

"Who?"

"Hannah Washington," the jock said sarcastically, sitting down next to Chris. "I'm talking about the girl who claim to be eight times out of your league."

The blonde frowned lamely. "Oh," he truly didn't want to talk about her. Just another broken memory that didn't get liftoff from the ground. "Well... picture a sauna... in Somalia... during the summer. Okay? Got that? Now put all of that on top of the sun."

"Sure?" the guy frowned.

"That's about half as hot as she was." Chris groaned.

Another break of quiet, then a resounding, "Damn! That sucks, man."

"Gee... you don't say."

The jock leaned in. "I bet you're probably crushed right now. Girls like that only come around once in a lifetime, like Hailey's comet or something. And you let her slip through your fingers, like having the missed touchdown right there. Man... I don't know what I'd do if I were you. I'd be crushed. My heart in shambles. I'd be way too depressed to even live. If I were you, I'd give up on life." he said cheerfully.

Chris faked a smile. "Wow... with those people skills of yours, you should totally become a motivational speaker!"

He suppressed a smile. "You really think so? Man, that's awesome! I've been thinking about doing something like that in my life. Thought about being a life coach or maybe a... motivational speaker. But then again, I'd want to write a book! Just so I could see the name, Matt on a cover. Make me so proud. It'd like the Da Vinci code, except this time, it'd be in English!"

The blonde paused from his reading. Was this... Matt, that stupid? "Umm... the Da Vinci code is in English."

Matt frowned. "No... it was helped to translate ancient languages. Duh."

"You mean the Rosetta Stone?"

"Nah man, they didn't have computers way back then."

Chris felt like exploding. "Oh my god. I am surrounded by idiots."

That caused Matt to reel back, and he saw the blonde bent over, perhaps dying. He looked around, glancing to see if he could find any other people or idiots to classify as being surrounded. He even looked under the bench, finding his search to be unsuccessful. "I don't know about you, but I do not see any mirrors around here."

"Gah!" A scream tore from the geek's lips.

"Something the matter?"

"Nothing," Chris pushed up on the bridge of his glasses. "Just... having an aneurism out of sheer stupidity."

Matt laughed, placing another pat on his back. "Relax dude, you're not that stupid."

The blonde felt his blood sugar level drop insanely low. "Oh. My. God." he reiterated, wanting to crawl into a hole and die. Chris breathed, reopening his textbook.

He completely ignored the other person to his right, so Matt leaned over to see what all the fuss was about. "Whatcha reading?"

"Chemistry."

"Oh! Isn't that the one about the shapes?"

Chris paused. "No... that's geometry. Chemistry is about the identification of substances of which matter is composed. Duh." He scoffed, as if it was supreme common knowledge on the true definition of his favorite branch of science.

Matt looked stumped. "So that's why I'm failing."

"Hilarious." the blonde sneered.

"I know," the jock blushed. There was a pause. "So... where you headed?"

"School. Bus 15." Chris replied.

"Sorry to break it to you man, but that bus doesn't stop here."

He looked up from his reading. "P- pardon?"

"Yeah... doesn't stop here," Matt repeated. He stood up, looking from the direction where he had come from. He pointed outwards. "Do you see that bus that's way over there?"

"The moving one?"

"Yep! That's bus 15!"

Chris jolted from his seat like a dead body being electrocuted. "Dammit! Dammit! Son of a bitch, dammit!" he hissed, grabbing his stuff and running off. The blonde had been so frantic in his crazy race, he slammed into the seventh new member to join Express Fairways that morning.

"Watch where you're going, stupid!" she howled, but the geek didn't bother to stop.

Had Chris done the polite and gentleman thing of the world, he would've found his equal. A girl, at the same age, holding the same chemistry textbook in her hands, a backpack over her shoulders as well. Long auburn hair that fell down to the back, glittering bluish green eyes, a bright pink sweater, and a pink beanie atop her head. The girl rolled her eyes. "The stupidity you see in the morning."

She walked over to Matt. He waved. "Hello."

A brisk nod. "Hello. Care to tell me what that was all about?"

The jock raised an eyebrow, confused. He put two and two together to make four. "Oh... that... yeah, he just missed his bus to school."

"The fifteen? He could've just waited another twenty minutes or so for the 17 bus. Stops right here."

Matt's eyes brightened at the information, and he stood, seeing Chris as a speck out in the distance. "Hey wait! Crazy kid, you could've- oh... he'll figure it out eventually," he sat back down. "The name's Matt."

"Ashley." she whispered.

"Nice to meet you! I hope we can be-" he noticed her demeanor, head hung low, eyes dismal, voice quiet. "What's the matter? You look down."

"Oh nothing..." Ashley looked up, trying to hold back the tears. "This guy stood me up yesterday."

"Sorry to hear about that." Matt sympathized.

"It's okay. You get used to it."

"I bet you're probably sitting here right now, just musing over the possibilities. Wondering why would he do that me? What's wrong with me. What can I do to fix myself? Maybe I should just give up on life..." the jock once again added his favorite euphuisms and life saving advice.

Ashley rolled her eyes for the second time in a minute. "Wow... with those people skills, you should definitely become a public speaker."

"You think so? You know... I've been thinking about doing something like that in the future for my life! Like becoming a life coach or a public speaker," Matt smiled. "But then again... I want to write a book, like the Da Vinci code, except it'll be in English."

"Hilarious Matt, truly."

"I know." he blushed. Something about this felt serenely familiar. Deja vu.

She flipped open her chemistry textbook. "Studying is the top priority. Not this idiot who probably doesn't know his right foot from his left."

"Whatcha reading?"

Ashley blinked, looking at the blissful, totally naïve and unaware stare from the jock. "Um... chemistry."

Matt tried making another joke. "Oh... that's the one about the twig with the fake ID?"

The redhead practically felt like sneering and spitting in his face. "No... it is the branch of science that deals with the identification of substances of which matter is composed. Everybody knows that."

"Oh... so that's why I'm failing."

"You're hilarious, I tell you."

"Understood!" Matt grinned proudly.

Ashley furrowed her eyebrows together, mulling over the question she had been trying to figure out for the best twelve minutes. "Dammit." she cussed, unable to figure out the answer.

"Need help?" he offered gently.

She looked at him as if he had two heads. How in the world could this possible dingbat know the first thing about chemistry, let alone science... or life in general? She handed him the book. "If you wanna try... sure."

Matt took it eagerly, and looked at the problem. "Uh... subtract four. Times by eleven. The sun is a star so that means the quadratic formula won't work..." he suddenly, and rapidly, began pointing at the problem. "The answer is C."

All of Ashley's hopes and dreams for humanity crashed into a brick wall. "It's not even a multiple choice."

The jock handed her back the book. "Well... then it looks like you're screwed."

Before the two could finish off any more pleasantries or unpleasant words between them, a bus rolled up to a screeching halt. Matt looked around aimlessly, humming a tune rather stupid to himself. Ashley raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that your bus?"

Matt blinked. "Huh?" he looked up. "Oh, hey! Thanks. I hope you feel better!" he called, jogging onto the bus. The doors shut, and off it went, the happy and perhaps too idiotic yet smart for his own good jock waving at the redhead as he passed by. She made a genuine smile, waving too. He wasn't really that bad.

This, however, left Ashley all alone. She scooted over in case someone else was to sit down next to her, then looked up at the sky in frustration. "Well, here I am God. All alone. If only my dream guy were here to just waltz into my life..."

No sooner had those words left her lips when Chris had come running back onto the scene. His face was flushed, the lemonade wick of hair blown about in shambles, glasses crooked on his face, backpack out in the open... and he had been swearing a mile a minute. As he had crossed in front of Ashley, he tripped, sending everything out in a spew of papers, pencils, and other assorted items. His glasses flew off his face and the now poor boy was grappling around blindly. "My glasses! I can't see without my glasses!" he cried.

Ashley couldn't believe what she had seen. "Well... stumbling into my life should work too. Lemme help you with that."

She got on her hands and knees, giving Chris his glasses. He grinned, putting them on his face. The two locked eyes. "Jinkies..." they said together.

Chris immediately blushed, standing straight up like a rock. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I'm Chris."

"The name's Ashley," They shook hands, before sitting back down on the bench. "So... I assume you're the guy who missed the bus 15?"

"Yep. And now I'll be late for school." the blonde huffed.

She frowned. "No... actually, you just have to wait for the 17 bus like me. It should be here roughly in about five minutes, give or take."

"There's another bus that goes to school?"

"Indeed! Bus 15 and Bus 17 both go to school. Been like that for awhile now, actually." Ashley said.

"I wouldn't know," Chris admitted sheepishly. "I only moved here a couple of weeks ago. Haven't exactly got introduced to how everything works around here."

"Oh... where'd you move from?" she asked.

"You wouldn't know."

"I bet you not."

"It's just... this cesspool of a town called Dawn, and everyone waits until dawn to rise up and leave. It's terrible. People call it the Detroit of... well, wherever the hell we are. All there is to do is die or watch people move away, and sometimes you hope that the person leaving one day will be you. I'm one of the lucky ones, got out when I could." Chris explained.

Ashley pressed a hand to her chest. "My word... that sounds awful. Well, let me be the first one to welcome you to the big city!"

"Thanks," he quipped a smile. The blonde looked at his watch, then stomped a foot. "Dammit!"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just that my report on the Atomic Theory is now late. Due... five seconds ago." Chris said in defeat.

"What are you going to do?"

"Probably rewrite it while we wait."

"Why not turn it in tomorrow?"

"I can't," the blonde shrugged. "Punctuality is pivotal. Least, that's what my father says."

A light bulb went off in her brain. "Wait... the atomic theory? What science are you taking?"

"Chemistry."

"Oh that's cool! Me too!" Ashley grinned.

"Do you have it 1st period?"

"No. Just 2nd period."

"Well..." Chris trailed off. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna try and finish this the best I can."

He began to feverishly work, a pallid piece of paper slamming atop his chemistry book as he wrote away, sometimes swearing and the sounds of a pencil or eraser filling the quiet void. Ashley tapped out a light beat, holding her book close to her chest while she stared out from under the station. The sky had brightened to a beautiful azure hue, perfect for flying a kite. Or walking. Or anything instead of sitting on a bus bench.

She felt bored within seconds, scooting over slyly. "So... Chris, I got a new phone."

"That's nice."

"With a new number."

"Cool." he said lamely.

"And there's no one in my contacts list." Ashley made a puckering noise of her lips.

"What a damn shame." Chris sympathized with fakery.

"Can I give it to you?"

The blonde blinked. "Why would you do that?"

She practically felt as if she had been slapped. "Oh... I don't know. What if I gave you my number and then I lost it... so I could then call you for it and get it back?" Ashley tried out in the veil of nothing. Eh, least she made an effort.

"No thanks."

"I'm bothering you aren't I?"

"Just a little..." Chris's tone made it evidently clear he wasn't referring it to a little bit.

"Can I please just give it to you?"

The boy bit his lip. "Oh... fine. If I don't now I bet you'll just antagonize me about it later, won't you?"

She didn't hear him, instead snagging his pencil and writing down her number on the report. Ashley slid back all cool, grinning profusely from ear to ear. "There you go. Just... don't go calling me or nothing, like to ask me out on a date."

Chris opened up his phone, his battery hanging on at roughly four percent. He began making a contact for her. "Don't worry, I won't," he assured her. He finished naming the contact as Ashley, before putting his phone back in his pocket. He realized she still had his pencil, and the blonde looked up. "Now where were we-" he stopped, finally getting a close up and personal look at her.

Ashley noticed his pause. "What?"

"Nothing. I just never noticed how pretty you are."

The girl's eyes widened, and she almost laughed aloud. "Really? You just now noticed?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I get it... I'm not flawless or anything, but we just did that cliché Jinkies moment like not even two seconds ago, and you now notice I'm pretty?"

"Sorry..." Chris rubbed his shoulder awkwardly. "I was just blinded by rage at the time. Didn't think straight."

She bit her lip. "You aren't that bad looking yourself."

"You think so?" Bright diamond eyes lifted up, a smile gracing his lips.

"Not too terribly."

"I think you're really pretty..."

"You're awfully kind."

"I mean... just look at your eyes. Like glorious pools of melted lead."

Ashley blinked. "Melted lead...?"

"Or the eyelashes you have, like the branches of a dead oak tree."

She touched her eyelashes. "My- my eyelashes? Chris... what the hell?"

"Even your teeth! Chipped and coffee stained-" he said happily.

The redhead cut him off with a firm swipe of her hand. "Okay... it's clear you aren't experienced at the flirting game, are you?"

Chris's look saddened. "You can tell?"

"Just a little."

"Well... then what should I do?"

"Why not start by putting your arm around me?" Ashley offered.

She scooted closer to him, and he outstretched his arm to wrap around her back. Chris bit his lip, felt as if he was doing something wrong and she'd scream at him or worse... never want to speak again. He managed to make his way around to her left shoulder, his hand hovering precariously over her shoulder. "Like this?" he asked hopefully.

Ashley placed his hand gently down. "Better. Hover hand is a little unnecessary, but the gist is fully there my friend!"

Both of them glanced up to see another bus slide in, and in sleek silver paint, by the door was the number 17. Their bus had finally arrived at its destination. Chris smiled at her. "Looks like our bus is here."

"I suppose it is," she winked mischievously. The two stood, gathering their things. "But... are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"What?"

"School is only about five miles away from here. Perhaps we could take a walk."

Chris shrugged. "Sure! Why not? I know it is four months late, but my New Years resolution was to get my cardio in. Great way to start it."

"Sure thing," She began walking. "Weather is nice."

"It is." the blonde followed.

"Good enough for cricket." Ashley trailed off.

Chris bit his lip. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Would you like to go out sometime?"

Ashley blinked. "Of course. That's really thoughtful of you. In all honesty, if you have a class close enough to chemistry, we could walk to class together in the morning. Maybe even to our 2nd periods as well."

"That'd be nice."

The redhead moved her foot against the concrete nervously. "Now... can it be my turn to ask you something?"

"And what would that be?" Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Can I kiss you?"

The blonde frowned, although it wasn't a disappointed one. A light gleamed past his eyes. "Can I say something even crazier?"

"Sure." Ashley nodded, wringing her hands nervously.

Chris grabbed her by the arms, leaning it closer. "I say yes."

And then... he kissed her.

Throughout the whole morning, Emily and Josh, Josh and Mike, Mike and Jess, Jess and Chris, Chris and Matt, Matt and Ashley, and finally Ashley and Chris... each encounter and each meeting made the wheels in their heads turn, they were perfectly fine with going off in anger to discover little bits and pieces about them.

That perhaps this slightly cold morning wasn't the worst thing to happen in all of humanity.

But... perhaps one of the best.


And that's it everyone! So the Wheels in the Head Turn! I am super happy to be finished with this, I sure liked writing about some of my new favorite video game characters in one long piece... and this is officially my longest one-shot by word count which makes me beyond thrilled. I'm glad to finally have written something in this fandom and I cannot wait to write more, especially where I will be able to feature Sam... which I'm disappointed on how I didn't get to write her in, but that's okay. So... guys, please review! Let me know what you thought! It'd mean so much to me, in case I do decide to write more. I have a Rated M horror one-shot idea called The Odd Couple for Sam and Josh that I may put to paper or whatever... but this is me dipping a toe in the water. I love you all and I hope you have an amazing day! Bye!

~ Paradigm