we ended like this
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I call him bus boy.
We would always take the same bus together. He had a black name tag, and I had a white one. He was a sophomore while I was a freshman. He would be standing near the rear of the bus, listening to music that I never knew and never cared. Morning bus rides were cold. His glasses would always mist over, and he would wipe them on his shirt upon alighting.
I never told him how I much I looked forward to seeing him every morning and how well his black-rimmed glasses suited him. There were so many things I couldn’t tell him because Lee Howon quitted school before the new school year.
He didn’t even know my name.
I call him bus boy.
There really was a bus boy. He graduated. x
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