You know how every girl has at least one story about a boy who was a complete stranger but was memorable somehow? The Boy on the Subway. The Boy in the Coffee Shop. Well, this is mine about The Boy on the Bus.

It being Saturday, I decided that I deserved to indulge in a bit of shopping - despite it being exam time and all (I mean, why should we sacrifice our healthy lifestyle habits just because of silly little things like exams?). So I headed to the nearest “mall” in search of some healthy snacks to combat those late night munchies.
Anyway, I was almost late for the bus as I came out of residence but managed to just catch it after running half a block. Then, after I finished shopping and was just coming out of the mall, I saw my bus passing by on the road. And, seeing as how I had already wasted time shopping and I didn’t want to waste more time waiting for the next bus, I decided to run after the bus again. Groceries in hand and all. It was not my most graceful moment.
But, I did make it. And I was very pleased with myself, even though I must’ve looked extremely foolish running an entire parking lot and a block to catch the bus with God knows what rattling in my backpack and bags of groceries in my hands.
As I sat down, I laughed in spite of myself for being the silly girl who seems to always have to run for buses. I mean, this was the second time today and about the zillionth time in my lifetime. Am I lucky for often being able to catch the bus or unfortunate because I always have to run after it?
In my mind, a commercial was playing with the dorky high school kid running after the bus each morning and all the kids inside are inwardly laughing at this sad little fellow because the bus driver is a nasty old man who hasn’t had sex in a century and therefore won’t stop to let the poor kid on.
Actually, I’m not sure if there is a commercial like that, but that’s not the point. The point is, I felt supremely silly, and almost a little bit cursed.
While I was lost in my thoughts, the bus had let on some more people and a few of them looked like they were looking for seats so I took my backpack off the seat beside me and put it on my lap. No one sat down though. Oh well. I continued on with my running-after-bus-fantasy commercial, and I had just decided to officially dub myself as “The Bus Chaser Girl” when… I saw him.
He was just getting on at the front of the bus and for some reason I could not tear my eyes off him. I had never been so riveted by a handsome boy before but damn he was hot. He was wearing a black wife-beater, and even though I am not a fan of the typical guy who chooses to wear wife-beaters instead of normal shirts (that don’t give you a nice translucent view of their nipples - not that there’s much to see), it really showed off his body. I could tell he had been working out. Well, anyone could tell, with those strong, firm biceps, and probably a flat firm tummy underneath that shirt. Actually, since I’m being shallow and all, let’s just take this all the way. Strictly speaking, his face wasn’t the most handsome, and usually, that’s the most attractive feature for me. But he had a really nice body, and really nice collar bones, come to think of it (I have a thing for collar bones… don’t get me started).
So anyway, after staring at him for what seemed like ages (although it was probably only for 3/4 of a second), I forced myself to look out the window.
Seriously Summer, get a grip. What’s gotten into you? There are plenty of guys with nice bodies and you’ve never glanced twice at them before. This guy isn’t even THAT hot.
Maybe this is just a momentary lapse from my year-long “swearing off boys” diet.
As I was contemplating why I had been fixating on this stranger, I realized he had sat down next to me.
In the empty seat that I cleared out.
For the woman who had gotten on at the last stop.
The woman was still standing there.
WHY DID YOU NOT SIT DOWN???? I mentally screamed at her.
Ok, this is not good. The boy I had nearly drooled over was SITTING NEXT TO ME.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
What now? Stay calm. Stay. Calm. Caaaaalm.
Ok, so I played it safe and looked out the window. But I could feel our shoulders almost brushing past each other with every bump in the road. My heart beat was picking up. I wasn’t sure I was breathing properly and I was almost certain I did not have a straight face. I’m not sure what kind of expression I had at the time but it was definitely not neutral. It was probably contorted because I kept mentally checking to make sure that I didn’t have some hideously giddy expression on my face.
Not that I was feeling giddy… or anything.
I hope he doesn’t notice. I snuck a look at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed completely oblivious to my existence. Well, he’s probably too cocky to even consider me to be in the same league as him. Although I usually don’t care much about appearances, my pride was slightly hurt at the thought of this. I mean, I know I don’t look like a model, but I can look decent when I want to. And today, I looked fairly decent - at least, I thought so. I mean, I was wearing pink, and I only wear pink on days when I actually colour-coordinate my outfit. So there. I was looking decent today, and yet I was totally invisible to him.

Argh, stop it Summer. I’m sure he’s used to girls tripping over themselves to get his attention and I am NOT going to be one of them. I REFUSE to be a silly giddy girly-girl who swoons over pretty boys!
Wait.
I am a silly girl. I am just not a girly girl and I definitely, DEFINITELY do NOT SWOON OVER BOYS. And he would definitely, DEFINITELY not be interested in a girl like me. His girlfriend is probably tall and skinny, with long tanned legs and wavy, dark brown hair, and big eyes with long eyelashes…
Before I knew it, I was picturing his supermodel girlfriend.
No, he probably has more than one supermodel girlfriend. A guy like him definitely has someone on the side. Probably two. Or three. Or four.

The door opened in front of us and a girl got off. He leaned forward (did I mention we’re sitting in the first row by the back door?), as if he was going to call out to her, then threw something out just as the door was closing.
What?! Did he just litter from INSIDE THE BUS?
Ok, now I am not a freak about littering or anything, but I don’t throw garbage out of moving vehicles either. I was not impressed. So I snuck a (what I hoped to be distasteful) look at him. But before I could deliver the full distaste-look, something in his lap caught my eye.
A pack of cigarettes.
Oh great.
Now we have a litterer and a smoker. And a (possibly) major player. This just keeps getting better and better.
I turned away and looked out the window. I am so over this guy, I thought, which made me smile because I had fallen for the guy in less than a second, then gotten over him before the bus ride was even over. I am SO good at this “swearing off boys” stuff.
See Summer, this is good, this is what you want. Boys like him make you feel insecure and disappointed and not good enough. Without the baggage of swooning over every pretty boy that walks by and wondering if your hair is in place, you’re so much freer and you can smile stupidly and not care who’s looking at you strangely or whether that’s a flattering look for you.
I was proud of myself.
We ended up getting off at the same stop (I guess he goes to this university too) and I almost skipped off the bus, feeling extraordinarily rah-rah power-to-the-women / who-cares-if-I-don’t-look-like-a-supermodel-I’m-still-beautiful-on-the-inside. But I allowed myself a glance at him as I walked away, because I wanted to see, from the eyes of my current girl-power mood, whether I would still swoon like I did when I first saw him get on the bus.
And, maybe the heat had gotten to my brain and was making me see things, but when I glanced over at him, I caught him looking at me as we parted ways.
And I grinned.