>Be Evan.

>Be in middle school.

>Classes are over, and Evan is in a pickle.

>He has missed his bus home due to a savage case of the runs.

>He runs to the bathroom after his last class, regretting every bite of the suspicious-looking sloppy joes the cafeteria served for lunch.

>By the time he's finished, Evan's anus feels like it's been bleached and half the busses have departed from the circle behind the school.

>He knows the second-to-last bus in the line goes to the subdivision next to his, so he can take this other bus and get off at the closest convenient stop and just walk home.

>He doesn't want to call his parents, who are both at work.

>Better this than pestering them and having to explain he was shitting his brains out for a good fifteen minutes.

>He sprints to the back of the line and makes it in the door just before the bus is about to take off.

>The driver gives him a look that says, "I've never seen you in these parts before," but Evan avoids eye contact as he slips by and the driver doesn't say anything.

>The bus is packed and noisy as hell.

>Evan walks down the aisle to the back, unfamiliar faces everywhere, every seat filled.

>He hates doing this.

>Only one seat left in the whole bus, in the back, second to last seat on the right.

>Big kid sits in it, greasy and obese.

>Evan approaches the seat.

>Can I sit here? asks Evan, not sure why's he's bothering to ask.

>The kid doesn't look happy about having to share his seat. His considerable gut, contained in an XXL blue Detroit Lions hoodie, takes up a good two thirds of it. He also stinks.

>You can if you give me a drink of that, the kid says.

>He gestures to the bottle of Coke that Evan is holding. Evan hasn't had a drink from it since before his stomach began its gaseous rebellion while he sat in seventh hour.

>Evan hands over the bottle and slides into the seat just as the bus takes off.

>Confirmation consummation, says the kid. He takes a hearty swig.

>He goes to give the Coke back and Evan waves him off.

>You can just have it, he says.

>A girl sits behind Evan in the final row, straight brown hair framing a pinched face.

>She asks Evan, Are you gay?

>Evan turns to her.

>What?

>Are you gay?

>Evan is incredulous.

>No. Why?

>You sound gay.

>I sound gay?

>When you talk.

>...Okay, says Evan, turning back around.

>The bus pulls out of the parking lot

>The big kid cranes his fat neck back to look at the girl.

>You wanna know if he likes the cock?

>Yeah.

>Why? You wanna ask him out or something?

>No, says the girl. He's, like, the ugliest thing I've ever seen. Plus, he sounds gay, too.

>Evan says nothing, can't wait for his stop.