You idly stared outside of the bus window at the dreary grey parking lot, waiting for the familiar growling rumble that would indicate that you’re finally on your way to your Forensics Tournament.  A happy, inviting roar went up from the students at the front of the bus, and you leaned up to peek, only to hunch back down in your seat, silently wishing that the forty minute bus ride were already over.  Scrambling for your backpack, you took out your phone, hooking in your headphones and frantically pulling up your music app before jacking up the volume as far as it could go, and closing your eyes. Realizing that your face was still pinched in aggravation, you concentrated on your breathing, smoothed your expression into something approximating aloof carelessness.  

Moments passed.  A minute. Two. You strained your ears to see if you could catch a stray bit of conversation over the music blasting through your earbuds.  Just when you were debating giving up and taking another surreptitious peek, you felt a soft, though still annoying, kick to your calf, before one of your earbuds was unceremoniously pulled from your ear.  

“Scoot over. I wanna sit next to you.” 

“I’m comfortable right where I am, thank you very much.”  You waved your hand toward the bus at large. “There are plenty of empty seats.  Feel free to take one somewhere that’s else.”

“Feel free to take one somewhere that’s else,” Baekhyun mocked, bobbing his head up and down like a chicken.  

You silently stared at him until the playful grin slid off of his face, before his expression morphed into something that almost looked sincere.  

After a few moments of stalemate, a mottled flush started creeping up his neck, and he cleared his throat, looked away.  “Come on, just move over,” he muttered, starting forward as the bus engine roared to life.

You shot up a leg, planting your foot against the back of the seat in front of you.  “Can’t sit here, seat’s taken,” you drawled in mock Southern dialect.

This time, the grin that slid over Baekhyun’s face was mischievous as he tilted his head, raised an eyebrow.  Realizing that he was trying to go for a peek up your skirt, you squawked, quickly stomping your foot back onto the floor, which allowed him to use his superior body weight to slide next to you, gently pushing you toward the window as he reached over your body to pluck your backpack from the seat and set it down on the floor.  

Growling, you crossed your arms.  “You’re so proud of that shiny little black Audi you received for your birthday--why are you here with the rest of us peons?  Why aren’t you, you know, away, gunning it beside us like the maniac you