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The bus pulled up to the curb, producing a thin whistle that penetrated the silence between the two people. The boy, the younger of the pair, had been standing several feet away from the girl. He had a mop of light brown hair, some of which cascaded over his forehead and almost reached his scowling eyes. With a stern, tight mouth, he waited at a distance for the girl to step onto the bus. She cast him an annoyed glare, straining to keep from muttering about how ridiculous he was. She entered through the open doors, feigning a smile as she thanked the bus driver. She heard a shuffle of feet and muttered thanks behind her as the boy got on as well.

Without looking back, she took a seat, choosing a single chair by the window. She stared out the window, not wishing to meet the boy's eyes as he walked past to sit behind her. The day reflected the mood perfectly; threatening grey clouds were everywhere and they seemed unwilling to give up their dominion in the sky. As if yesterday's storm hadn't been enough, the girl thought, glaring.

It was time to block out the world. She put on her earphones, scrolling through her library to find a song, any song that was devoid of meaning. She didn't want to think or feel; she just wanted something with shallow lyrics and a good beat.

She felt a tug at one of the cables and an earphone came lose, falling over her shoulder. She wheeled around, already scowling. He was moving his hand back to his pocket but he wasn't trying to pretend he was innocent.

"Why didn't you just give me the keys?" He asked, shaking his head and raising his shoulders in an irritating, obnoxious way. "It would have taken me two minutes to get what I forgot. We wouldn't have missed the bus."

"You have to learn to be responsible." She snapped back, fighting to keep her tone at a low growl. "Learn to carry your own keys or know what you need before we leave the house. For a whole two hours, you kept asking if I was ready while you yourself didn't have everything you needed." She felt for the earphone at her shoulder, still glaring at the boy before spinning to face forward again and returning the earphone to its place.

Another tug. Again, the earphone cascaded down through her dark hair, dangling alongside the strings of her hoodie. She spun around, feeling the rage building up. For a split second, she reflected on how poor her self-control was but that thought melted away and she screeched, "Stop it!" Instantly, her eyes widened as the bus lurched to a stop.

"Is there a problem, miss? Is this young man troubling you?" The bus driver questioned as he stood from his chair and walked over to them. It was clear that he didn't care in the least about her; he just wanted the disruptions on his shift to stop.

She was frozen, unsure of what to say and for a while she just stared at the portly man. He looked at her with undisguised annoyance before turning his burning glare on the boy behind her. "Sir, do I have to ask you to leave the bus for bothering this lady?"

The ability to speak returned. She fumbled for the words; her tongue felt clumsy and lethargic, like it had gone to sleep and was awakening very slowly. She turned her head slightly to look at the boy from her peripheral vision; he was wide-eyed and frozen, hopelessly lost for words. "N-no, s-sir," she stuttered desperately, "Please don't k-kick him off...he's my...my brother." The driver made a gruff sound between a grunt and a scoff, eyes still poisonous daggers before striding back to his chair.

"Thanks," the boy mumbled, any trace of the previous scorn and anger absent from his features.

"You're welcome." She allowed herself to smile, stretching a tentative hand to ruffle his hair.

The bus had lurched to a stop to pick up a passenger. A middle-aged woman stepped on, depositing her fare promptly and the girl realized she was still at war. It's amazing the stories our minds can create in seconds; stories where we are the brave heroes. She slumped against the window, wanting the conflict to be resolved. Her anger had already loosened its grip on her heart and she felt the uncomfortable fingers of guilt grasping at it instead. Pride, she thought bitterly, That's what keeps me from apologizing.

There was a tap on her shoulder. The last traces of rage caused her to scowl as she turned around. "What?" She asked, her mouth an impatient, tight line.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He said. A smile broke out on his lips. "I know you won't say it first, so I will. I'm sorry I was irresponsible and I'm sorry for being mad."

She couldn't fight the smile that slowly formed on her own face. It was a small smile, but her heart suddenly felt lighter than words or expressions could tell.

"So....?" He coaxed her, gesturing with his hand and still grinning.

She rolled her eyes, but the smile only grew as she replied, "I'm sorry, too." She looked at him as he sat back in his chair, his expression peaceful. Smiling suited him very well. You're an amazing person, she thought, A much kinder, better person than I am. She couldn't say it out loud, though; pride was embedded in her nature.

She turned around though, still smiling, and laid her head against the window, feeling the tremors of the bus against her temple as the ride continued.