The Chronicles of a Public Bus (part 3.17)

Tuesday, 14:30, route 31

Divinity is in ecstasy when she leaps onto the bus. Behind her, Drake is haggard and slow and wondering what mistake he made that earned him a friendship with Divinity. They sit together near the back door, each soaking in their own sphere of emotion while the seats around them fill up with groups of people who actually talk to each other.

Only when the bus eases into a roll does Divinity speak up. “So,” she starts, “where’s Willow?”

“Exorcism appointment,” Drake says, almost in a whisper. “She’s trying to find a way to avoid eating so many loose spirits.”

“How many has she eaten?”

Drake shrugs and scratches a tiny pimple on his jaw. “I don’t know. She tries not to talk about it, but sometimes she gets this look during class, like she might throw up, and then the next hour she’ll be absent.”

“Wait, is she eating spirits in class or something? How does no one notice?”

Bringing a finger to his lips, Drake shushes Divinity and glares at her. “Not so loud!” He jerks his head to gesture at the people sitting in the next seat back. “They’re from our school. Do you want everyone to know Willow’s one of the powerful folk?”

“Okay, okay.” Divinity raises her hands and leans back in the seat, placating. “I’ll try to talk quieter. But seriously, how does no one notice?”

“I think she’s been inhaling them by accident, but Willow hasn’t explained to me yet.”

Unsatisfied with the answer, Divinity huffs and crosses her arms. She stares ahead, unsure of what to talk about without Willow around. Maybe the overdue conversation about Drake’s crush is an appropriate topic. However, that sounds like something people with actual dating experience should handle, despite Divinity’s constant teasing on the subject, and so she and Drake sit in awkward silence, listening to the raucous background noise.

Finally, Divinity hits on something worthwhile. She paints on her greatest smirk, pivots to face Drake, and punches his shoulder. “So, you called the police station at lunch. What was that about?”

He glares at her. “You’re only allowed to punch me when you see a slugbug.”

“I saw a black one at lunch. What’d you tell the police?”

Drake rubs his shoulder, acting horribly wronged, and turns up his chin. “I told them that I knew of a possible suspect from out of town, who was sent by a relative to get revenge for theft. Presumably the police can deduce everything else from there.”

“Uh-huh,” Divinity says, rolling her eyes. “And did you tell them their serial murderer finally found his actual target?”

“Of course I did! What kind of concerned citizen do you take me for?”

Switching to a casual lounge, Divinity twirls her hair around one finger and stares at the bus’s ceiling in mock airiness. “And the police didn’t question your insider knowledge at all? Lucky you.”

“I didn’t word it like I was directly involved. Besides, they knew I was a teenager by my voice, and they tried looking me up in case I was actually the perpetrator.” Drake bites his lip and fiddles with the hem of his jacket. “Not that they got anywhere. Invisibility is a pretty universal power.”

“Very true,” Divinity agrees, nodding. “But what about your mom? What will she think?”

Grimacing, Drake slouches further in his seat and turns to face the window. “Who knows what my mom will think? She’s furious about Grandpa’s methods, but she doesn’t want anything to get out.” He is about to elaborate, but he suddenly straightens and leans closer to the glass. “Hey Divinity, look at this.”

“What’s up?” She cranes her neck to see, and her eyes widen. It seems the rest of the bus is curious as well, because a few loud gasps echo around the bus, and the middle school group near the front erupts into a clamor. People squish towards the bus’s right side, standing in the aisle on their tiptoes and leaning over seats and heads.

Outside, the ghost procession has vanished. The street looks like it always has, with the ground plated in asphalt and the apartments towering in their rusty red. Even the sky has chosen to be inconspicuous, and white clouds mingle with an everyday blue that doesn’t manage to be anything but average.

Of course, the blue green glow blasting from a trio of consecutive windows on the second floor is the main attraction. The eerie light shows even in the height of daylight, and the brick surrounding the windows is painted into a rotten brown. The cars on the ground below glimmer with sea green.

“Hopefully someone has called the police,” Drake murmurs.

“Hopefully this doesn’t warrant evacuation,” Divinity says, and she rolls her eyes when Drake gapes at her. “What? You think even after my little run-in this morning, I don’t want to investigate the crazy glowing rooms on my floor?”

“I’m allowed to wish for things.”

Shaking her head, Divinity whips out her phone and begins a text. “You, me, and Willow are heading over there as soon as she gets back from her appointment.” She lights her grin with dangerous curiosity, and her thumbs pause, hovering over the keyboard. “And you, my friend, will help me convince her to say yes.”