I awake to a loud clunk as the bus comes to a sudden and abrupt halt. Everyone scrambles to the back of the bus as I notice that Ry's in my arms. I kept him from falling to the floor, and he thanks me.
"Dude, Troy! Come look at this!" Jason is so excited.
Ry whispers, "Go. I'll still be here." I smile warmly and blow him a gentle kiss. Sitting upright, he allows for my departure and I meet my basketball buddies at the back window of the bus, along with my father and the rest of the wrestling team, save for Ryan.
"Coach Bolton, I don't understand it. I can't get the ignition to turn over." the bus driver comments.
"Have you tried putting it into 'neutral'?" Jack Bolton responds. He is currently prying his way through the student bodies to look out the window.
"The bus won't shift, Dad." I reply. I stifle a chuckle, but Zeke isn't as successful.
"And why is that, son?" He responds sarcastically.
"Because that huge chunk of metal laying in the middle of the lane a good 15 yards behind us happens to be the transmission. I don't think that the 'prendel' reaches that far." I answer matching his sarcasm. The entire bus, including the driver AND my father, all bust out laughing. "So, I say we all hop out, push the bus to the side of the road, and call for a tow truck." I assumed the role of the leader, much like any playmaker would.
So, we did it. I look around, trying to find Ryan only to spot him carrying the transmission back to the bus. Everyone is gawking at him like a bunch of slack-jawed yokels.
Once he finally approaches, I note aloud, "Ryan! How are you doing that? That thing must weigh a ton!" The guys surrounding us mutter acknowledgement of my statement but he scoffs lightly.
"Not really. Maybe 300 pounds, 350 tops." I rush to take it from him and my posse, Chad, Jason, and Zeke, come to my aid. We struggle to place the mechanical construct onto the ground. When the task is completed, Ry threads his arm around my waist.
I was glad that no one notices our embrace. Dad walks from the front door of the bus; clearly he has news from the driver. "Okay guys, there's another bus on the way. It's going to be a good three hours before it'll get here, considering the driver has an afternoon route to run on her way out of town. We're currently just over three miles outside of the nearest town. Let's start walking into town to get something to eat and wait in an air-conditioned environment." All the guys nodded in agreement.
Ryan pulls me toward the back of the group and takes his left hand from my left hip and entwined the digits of my right hand within it. We walk hand-in-hand all the way to town.
"Hey, there's something I need to ask you." I state after a good twenty minutes of comfortable silence. "Actually, two things." I continue.
"Sure." He mews.
"Firstly, how did you carry that transmission by yourself?"
"I said a silent prayer as I approached it in the road asking God to grant me the strength to remove it before anyone got hurt. As I bent over, I stretched my back like I do in yoga and I aligned my chakras. I lifted it and thought I was going to fall backwards, so again I asked, 'If it is You're will, please send me aid my Lord.' And I suddenly felt a half dozen hands brush along my arms and grab hold." He proclaims.
"Well then, praise God!" I respond.
"Absolutely. What was your second question?"
"Did we have a major conversation on the bus or did I dream it again?" I half-mutter. He smiles brightly.
"I wouldn't call it major, but apparently, tu as des sensations ce dont tu as peur." (You have feelings of which you have fear.) "Or, at least, t'avais." (You had)
I take this moment to capture his lips again and this time, it deepens. I break it off quickly and notice my father looking right at us from the front of the group. "Oh shit." We mumble simultaneously.
Well, was it worth the wait? I won't post any more unless I get at least one review. I don't care if it says, "Where in the hell are you? Write more before I come and shoot you!" I would rather it not read as such, but cheggers can't be boozers.