Straight Edge's POV
There's not a ton of room on the bus we rode, but there's plenty of room for five people. The first two rows of seating are still intact, and the rest is just a decent sized bed, a mini fridge, a recliner, and a port-a-potty crammed in the corner. No one really goes back there, though.
Indie drove the bus, as if that wasn't obvious. Flowchart and Scene sat behind him, and she's always nagging Indie about how much time there was left until we got to Vegas. I'd be shocked if she knew anymore about Vegas than was said in that Panic! at the Disco song. Of course, now we all know more about it then we'd like.
Country sat in the seat closest to the door. She claimed it was where the best Wi-Fi was and that it was her "God given duty" to tweet non-stop about the trip. I sat behind her, half because I wanted to use the internet, too, and half because it meant I got to watch everyone else and they couldn't watch me.
We left five hours ago at six in the evening after meeting at our old, burned down office. Luckily, Indie knows a lot of back roads. It must be the hipster way, or something. As a result, we've had a surprising lack of traffic and we might only have a few minutes left in this thing.
"Indie!" Scene squealed, again. "Indie, Indie! Are we there yet?"
"Yes," he replied.
"Really?"
"No! Now shut the fuck up!"
I leaned back in my seat and stared out the window. As much as I don't want to be on this bus anymore, what will we even do when we get to Vegas? I don't drink and I'm pretty sure we were all broke, so I was pretty sure it'd be boring as hell.
"Hey, Indie?" I heard Flowchart ask.
"Yes, Int- Flowchart?" he replied. I don't think he'll get used to that guy's new nickname.
"What hotel are we staying at once we get there?"
"Are you paying?" Indie quipped, though I wanted a serious answer. It was a decent question, and I probably would have asked it myself once we got there.
"No, I can't afford a Vegas hotel. Are you crazy?"
"Well I doubt anyone else here can afford one either, so I guess we're stuck on the bus to sleep. Unless you want to be outside all night."
"Outside?" Scene screamed. "But it's dark! And what if there are murderers or demons or demon murderers with butter knives?"
"Sweetie," Country said, "What good could a murderer do with butter knives?"
"Sebastian can do anything," Scene replied, her eyes going wide and her voice dropping.
I closed my eyes. "How about we figure out who all is going to sleep where, then? I think we could avoid sleeping outside if we planned a bit. Maybe a couple of us could get the bed, one on the recliner, one on the floor if we move the fridge, and someone on the seats."
"I'll take the floor!" Indie announced. "I brought my sleeping bag."
"I guess I'll take the chair," Country said. "And since Flowchart and Scene are dating, it'd be the least awkward if they got the bed together."
Then that leaves me curled up on the stupid seats, I thought.Whatever.
We drove on in silence for a while - it was something like fifteen minutes. I'll admit I'd drifted off to sleep for a bit, until a bright light penetrated my eyelids and I heard Scene gasp.
"It's so pretty," she breathed, and I sat up and opened my eyes in time to see her right cheek shoved against the window of the bus. Since she didn't have the window seat, however, she was laying half on top of Flowchart, effectively kneeing him in the balls.
"Yes," Flowchart groaned, "We're here."
"Is there any place to discretely park a school bus 'round here?" Country asked. "I don't want to draw too much attention to my self."
"Just find a vacant lot or something," I piped. "I think we all need to get out of here and breathe a bit."
"How many vacant lots do you think a large tourist city like Vegas would have?" Flowchart asked.
I shrugged. "Fine, then. A casino parking lot should do just fine. Or just pull over on the side of the road."
Before I could even finish my sentence, our bus was in the middle of some casino back lot. After we came to a stop, Indie stood up and faced us.
"Okay, kids. We're here."