eight

Traditional school buses used to transport schoolchildren on bus routes were required, by law, to be yellow. Activity buses, used for purposes other than transporting children on bus routes, didn’t have the same restrictions. As Keith stared at the white bus he would be driving for the next two-plus weeks, he tried to find some comfort in that fact.

When he’d moved to Birchly High School, he quickly realized that coordinating a bus driver for different games and meets could be a challenge so he’d required all coaches, including himself, to have a valid school bus driver’s licenses. Every August the coaching staff took a refresher course. The district, grateful not to have to find drivers and pay them, had given the department two new-to-them activity buses. The larger one could handle the bigger events like track meets and football games. The smaller bus—with ten rows and lots of storage—was the one Keith would be taking on the college road trip.

As he pulled the bus into the high school parking lot where he would pick up his passengers, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Lissa sat in the last row, looking out the side window, her arms crossed, her expression sullen. They still weren’t speaking. Keith couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone this long before making up and he didn’t like it. In the last few months, Lissa had changed and he had no idea why.

He knew part of her sulk was his fault. She’d caught him going through her luggage. He’d wanted to make sure she was bringing her birth control pills, a fact she hadn’t found amusing.

“What do you think I’m going to do?” she’d screamed. “Have sex right there on the bus with everyone watching?”

She’d grabbed her tote bag from him and had stomped out of the room, muttering to herself about becoming an emancipated minor.

He vowed to do better, then got off the bus to wait for the rest of the students to arrive for their early morning departure.

Right on time cars pulled into the parking lot. He greeted the parents and their kids, confirmed paperwork and contact numbers, promised he would do his best to make sure no one got into trouble.

Best friends Aidan and Andy complained (again) about the aquarium. “It’s so dumb, Coach. Why do we have to go there?” Aidan asked, his too long hair falling in his eyes.

Andy agreed.

They were both tall, rangy boys who played basketball. Aidan also ran track. He was a decent athlete, but Andy was the real star. He had a good shot at a basketball scholarship. UCLA was unlikely, but maybe UC San Diego. Keith was going to try to work some magic there.

“Everyone voted,” he reminded them. “Your side lost. It’s one day, guys. You’ll survive.”

They grumbled as they got on the bus.

A familiar Subaru pulled up. Unity waved from the driver’s side. Ellen and Cooper got out. Coop unloaded the luggage while Ellen walked toward Keith, a folder in her hands.