As they got to the bus stop Molly couldn't help but stare at all the different people waiting on the bus' arrival. One particular woman stuck out to her. The young lady wore a heavy leather jacket and had long bright purple hair. "Mummy, why is her hair that colour"? Her mother quickly glanced over to the woman to see what her daughter meant. Looking down at Molly she said "Because, some people like to express themselves by dying their hair bright colours."
The idea of dying ones hair intrigued Molly. She liked to think she could change her hair to any colour she wanted. She hoped someday Mummy would let her dye her hair a deep candy apple red, Molly's favourite shade. Molly stood next to her mum waiting patiently and trying not to stare at the other people at the bus stop. Just as she started to get a bit antsy, the bus drove up in front of the small group of people and opened its doors. A line formed at the bus's door and Molly instantly noticed the woman standing behind her and her mother.
"Mummy, why is her skin so much darker than ours"? Her mother's eyes opened wider than she had ever seen them before as she turned to see who the girl was speaking of. A stout Caribbean lady stood behind them with her hand politely placed over her mouth, stifling a laugh. Molly's mother gave an apologetic smile and looked back down at the girl. "Well dear, if everyone's skin looked like ours, don't you think life would be pretty boring?" Molly thought about it a second and said. "Yes Mummy." She was some what disappointed her mother had come up with such a good answer so quickly.
Molly and her mother filed onto the bus with everyone else, eager to get out of the slowly worsening rain. She couldn't contain her curiosity any longer, momentarily glancing at almost everyone she saw as they made their way to a seat near the middle of the bus. Her mother sat by the window drowsily leaning her head against it while Molly sat by the isle. As the bus started moving she became bored with just sitting. She looked at the people in back of the bus, resting her gaze on two young men who were sitting on the other side of the isle and three rows back.
One had a wild tuft of messy brown hair he sat there looking up at the bus's ceiling. The ear-buds he wore lead down to an iPhone lazily held in his hand. The other man was sleeping, his head propped up against the window as he appeared to dream. Molly was captivated by the two men not only by their adorable faces, but by their proximity to each other. The rain lightly tapped on the windows of the bus causing the sleeping young man to groggily lift his head placing it on the shoulder of the young man next to him. The young man with the iPhone didn't shove his mate off him, instead he turned to the other and gazed at him lovingly as he slept.
The whole scene was just baffling to Molly. She'd never seen men, of any age, act this affectionately toward one another before. The little boys in her class were often pushing each other and her Daddy would rarely even hug her uncles. These two men, on the other hand, seemed very content with being close. She felt more questions forming in her head, but when she turned to ask her mother she saw that the woman had fallen asleep. She looked back at them to see that the man who was awake had placed his hand in the other's mop of light brown hair. He combed his fingers through the dreaming man's locks eventually letting them slide down to his mate's cheek. Molly even thought she saw him lean in, to kiss his friend, but it happened so quickly she couldn't be sure.
He then leant over the sleeping man, to ding the bell, so the bus driver would know to let them off at the next stop. After sitting back in his seat a moment he took a deep breath. The man then gently shook his friend awake as the bus came to their stop and they prepared to leave. As they slowly ambled off the idling bus, Molly noticed her mother was waking up. She looked up at her and asked the question that had been plaguing her mind for the past few minutes. "Mummy, are there boys who like boys the way Daddy likes you?" Her mother was still a bit dazed from her nap and eager to get back home. She looked down at her daughter to finally reply. "Oh Molly, don't you think you've asked enough questions for the day?"
"Sorry, Mummy," Molly answered back, a bit disappointed at her mothers' sudden impatience with her. When the bus brought Molly and her mother to their stop, they walked off and hurried to their home just two blocks away. On the way home she still couldn't get the image of the two young men out of her mind. When she got inside and went to her room she knew just what the next drawing she made for her mum would be, one of two boys holding hands.