Dylan
The room held one small window, but what little light that made it through the layer of grime and dirt on the glass was quickly eliminated by the thick cloth strewn carelessly over the steel bars that ensured solitude. It didn't matter. The computers, controllers, and other necessary devices all produced a light of their own. Eyes that were sunk deep into their skull flitted over these mechanisms deftly, having long since mastered the art of technology—long since mastered making it real. The raspy voice spoke out again, though its owner had no one to deliver a song to, "The wheels on the bus go round and round…"
I walked out of McDonald's in a slight daze, preferring my invented worlds to the one I was stuck with. The city rushed around me, busy as ever, but I had long since learned to remove myself from it. I could catalog the people rushing by, all lost in their own little worlds. It made coming up with characters for my stories easy when I needed it.
There was the businessman, trying to convince his boss that he was stuck in traffic when really, he couldn't go without his morning coffee. There was the dropout, sitting on the corner waiting for something interesting to happen because he couldn't be bothered to make life interesting himself. There was the irritated older sister, yelling at the two boys running around her while another girl (probably the younger sister) watched with an uninterested air, obviously stuck babysitting for the day.
I wondered idly how an onlooker would categorize me. I was of medium height, brown hair that fell in curls over my forehead. Not bad looking, I supposed, but nothing really memorable about me. I was dressed just like most of the other guys in the city—in the nation, probably, simple T-shirt and jeans. I didn't have any books or a backpack, so I probably wouldn't be stereotyped as a nerd. They wouldn't really have any grounds to call me a gamer either. I was just another guy, easily passed up in the crowd.
I hopped onto my bus and paid the fare, not bothering to look at the bus driver. Instead, I continued to judge the people on the bus. There was a blonde girl in a tank top and miniskirt that was too easy to nail as a cheerleader. Behind her, there was a boy who was twisting around one of the maps of New York that are everywhere, obviously a tourist. I saw two girls sitting together behind him, though they obviously didn't know each other. One of the girls had dark hair with heavy make-up, clearly going for the punk look. The other was a brunette with her straight hair pulled back into a sensible ponytail. Her tan lean body had me marking her as an athlete. Both had their cell phones out. Behind the girls was a mess of red hair and freckles, a guy stared out the window nervously, biting the nails on one hand while fiddling with his phone in the other. He must be scared of…
"Um, do you mind?" An easy-peg nerd was standing behind me. Her glasses had gemstones, as though she was trying to broadcast her studying habits, and she was carrying no fewer than four books in her arms. "Excuse me? I'm trying to get on the bus. Could you pick a seat?"
Her accent placed her outside of New York, but not by much. She was probably from Jersey. I moved to the back of the bus and sat.
The bus groaned and shifted, probably belching a disgusting amount of ozone destroying gasses into the general smog of New York.
Once I was no longer irritating random citizens, I looked over the bus again. Something about the people on it was bothering me. After categorizing a final dark-haired boy as a Goth who would probably get along with the punk chick, I could safely conclude that none of the people on the bus were murderers or any other threat to my immediate safety. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling in the back of my mind that something was off.
The bus stopped to let another girl on (cute+ blonde pixie cut+ minimal makeup+ name brand denim jacket+ confident walk = popular, but not queen bee) who quickly sat down near the cheerleader, and I realized what was wrong. Never in my existence as a New Yorker had I seen a bus with only nine people on it, but that was the number on this one, discounting the bus driver. Another odd fact about the demographics on this bus was the fact that every one of the passengers was a teenager. I blinked, surprised. Sure, this was New York, and I guess everything strange or unusual is supposed to happen in New York, but having two statistical anomalies on one bus ride was definitely unheard of, especially for me.
The next time the bus stopped, I stood to get off, even though we were nowhere near my destination. I moved up the aisle, but my way was blocked by a gawky boy climbing on the bus. Another teenager, this one too tall for his own good; I would have put money down to say he was a klutz. Clumsy or not, he forced me to move into the empty seat next to map boy.
I'm not really one for eavesdropping, but I heard the kid with the map mutter, "…not following any route…"
Maybe I should have stopped and asked him what he was talking about, but it was New York, and I couldn't just strike up a conversation with a muttering stranger on a bus.
Once the gangly boy had moved past me, I moved back into the aisle just in time to hear the bus doors shut with a hiss. I looked up and saw the babysitter from earlier, red-faced and panting, grabbing the top of a seat to keep from falling as the bus lurched into motion. As I made my way towards them, I could hear her talking to the driver.
"…have to go back! You left my siblings behind! Do you know how much trouble I'll be in if my parents find out about this? Just drop me off at the nearest corner. I'll walk back."
I saw the driver shake his head, his blonde curls bouncing back and forth, but he didn't say anything. I watched the girl's face flush further. "What do you mean no? You have to let me off. How far is the next stop? You just abandoned my siblings!"
The bus driver still didn't say anything, just tapped a map taped to the side of the steering console next to a first aid kit and one of those CPR instruction papers. They always seemed sort of pointless to me. When someone has a heart attack, who is going to have time to read about how to save him? Babysitter looked around and spotted me.
"You're from around here, right? How do you make these stupid bus drivers stop?"
"Um… you just…" I pressed the tape on the side of the bus, to indicate that I wanted to get off, but the bus driver just pointed at the map again. The girl glared at me as though this was somehow my fault. I rolled my eyes. "Have you tried checking the map?"
She scowled. "Yes I've checked the map, I'm not an idiot. According to the map, there's only one stop which makes no sense at all since I assume he picked you people up somewhere else."
I bent down to see the map, and realized she was right. There was only one stop, and it wasn't labeled. It was just marked with the letters CHB. "CHB." I read aloud. "What does that mean?"
"Cute Hula Boutique. Chubby Hamster Brothers. Cherub Hating Bathtubs."
I looked up at the babysitter. "Cherub hating bathtubs? That doesn't make any sense."
She crossed her arms. "Lots of bathtubs have a thing against naked angels. And besides, it makes more sense than a bus route with only one stop."
I would have conceded the point, or maybe argued more, but the bus turned a corner, and she fell into me, apologizing even before we touched. "Maybe we should go sit down." I suggested.
"You're the one keeping me from my seat."
The absurdity of this statement had me opening my mouth to protest, but before I could, her mouth twisted up in a grin. "I'm kidding. Seriously though, can I get through?"
I moved back to my seat and pulled out my phone, watching the babysitter choose her seat across from Goth boy. Out of habit, I flipped to my forum page. There was nothing better to do until the bus stopped again, anyways.
Selena-to-Travis I guess, I mean, if Chiron trusts him he must be okay, right?
Travis-to-Sapphire We're heading back to camp. We got the camp taxi man to cart us back from the city.
Pyper-to-Sapphire Have you met this guy? I've heard he's got eyes everywhere, even on his tongue! So he never talks.
Sapphire-to-Pyper Ew! That's disgusting. You're letting him drive us around?
Dylin-to-All A taxi ride? That's it? If what we say on here becomes real, that's pretty lame. Why don't we throw in a dragon? Or Medusa?
I didn't want to be the killjoy, but since 'Alexix' wasn't on, I figured someone had to keep them grounded in reality. If we were going to make up real-world adventures, I wanted them to be cool, like battling Cyclopes or the hellhound I had seen. According to 'Oswald', he and 'Alexix' had already battled some in real life. That's what I call cool.
I refreshed the page, and looked around the bus, waiting for it to load. The nerdy girl had opened one of her books; the tourist was still working with his map. The cheerleader had pulled out her phone, but the popular girl next to her just stared blankly out the window.
Travis-to-Dylin Dude, I'm on the run from the cops. I really don't need any more adventure in my life.
Sapphire-to-Dylin I'm still just trying to figure out if this works. I'm not entirely convinced.
Selena-to-Sapphire Trust me, it works. I had to cancel the last date before my vacation thanks to some water war that I had online.
Pyper-to-Selena Sorry about that, but how was I supposed to know it was real? Where are you vacationing?
Sapphire-to-Travis Mind telling us where you're hiding? Maybe we could get a ransom for you. JK. ;-)
Selena-to-Pyper New York City. It's kind of cool actually.
Travis-to-Sapphire Actually, I doubt they'll find me. I'm in one of the biggest cities in America. Funny though, I expected it to be harder to find seats on a bus here.
"No way."
I looked up at the sound of a voice. The punk girl was standing in her seat, looking around. I rolled my eyes. She was probably one of the theatrical groups in the city. I hated it when they felt like it was their job to 'liven up our lives'.
"What are you doing?" The athlete next to her asked, clearly weirded out.
"Which one of you is Travis?" The punk demanded.
It took me a moment to figure out what she meant, but when I did I looked at the people on the bus with new eyes. I counted and recounted, trying to make the numbers come out differently. There were eleven people on the bus. Eleven strangers. Eleven teenagers. The same number as the members of my forum.
I looked at the bus driver, trying to figure out how he played into this. As I stared at him, he rolled up his sleeves revealing forearms covered with tattoos. They were eyes. Every one of the dark ink images was an eye. He moved to scratch his ear, and I could have sworn one of them winked at me.
"It's the forum." The almost- queen-bee gasped.
"Everyone's here." The cheerleader said at the same time.
"But that's not possible…" The babysitter started, looking at all of us, clearly counting the passengers.
I grinned at her. "I think I know what CHB stands for."
She just stared at me. Then Goth boy came to her rescue. "It's obvious isn't it? We're going to Camp Half-blood."
So, I know I already posted this chapter, but a mistake was pointed out, so I had to fix it. I'm trying to remove the last chapter, but there might be the same chapter twice for a while. Just know I'm working on it. Sorry for any confusion, ~NinjaB.
