Mrs.Nelson looked at me.
I called, “Sorry we’re late.”
Mrs.Nelson turned to face out the windshield.
“Uh, could you—”
The bus lurched forward.
“Hi, Mrs.Nelson,” Bobby said.
And presto-chango, the doors opened.
We got on the bus.Mrs.Nelson let the bus rock forward as I was climbing up, and I would have fallen if Bobby hadn’t caught my arm, and I swear to God: she did it on purpose.When we reached the seats, two dozen faces stared purposefullyaroundme.
(As an aside: we writers wear alotof cardigans.And glasses.And, apparently, hats.One woman had a hat that looked like the one Jennifer Aniston had in that movie—Keme knows which one I’m talking about.)
“Sorry,” I said to the crowd.
They still didn’t look at me.The woman in the hat actually tilted it forward so that the brim covered her face.
Mrs.Nelson grumbled something, and the bus lurched forward.Bobby steadied me and turned the movement into a nudge to keep moving.
At the back of the bus, Charlie poked their head out into the aisle and waved.“Mr.Dane!Back here!”
Graeme was sitting at the front of the bus, a clipboard in hand, a massive backpack occupying the seat next to him.He gave me that smile again—the one that was more like baring his teeth—and said, “Were you signed up for the expedition?You’re not on my list.”
“Uh, no,” I said.“Last-minute change of plans.”
To judge by Graeme’s face, last-minute changes of plans were for imbeciles, but he flashed his teeth at me again and said, “Find a seat.”
“Sure,” I said.“Actually, do you mind if I take this one—”
“Uhn-uh,” Bobby said and gave me a less polite nudge.
“There’s plenty of room back here, Mr.Dane!”Charlie did a two-armed wave this time, in case I missed them.
I subvocalized a groan.Bobby chuckled as he followed me down the aisle.
(Mrs.Nelson, by the way, was hitting every bump and pothole she could find, likely in the hope of shooting me out a window while everyone else remained safe and sound.She also liked to ride the clutch.)
“Hi,” I said as I reached the back of the bus.
“Oh my God, Mr.Dane,” Charlie said.“We’re so glad you’re okay!”
“Just Dash,” I said.“Hi, Charlie!”
“Everyone said you got arrested for killing Vivienne Carver!”
“You didn’t kill her, did you?”AJ asked.Today’s septum piercing had a lot of yellow crystals and looked uncomfortably heavy.“Because everyone says you did.”
“Do you actually believe—” I began.
“No one can understand what happens in a moment of life-or-death conflict,” Thatcher said, shoving his beanie back.“No one except the man who lives it.And he’s the only one who can judge his actions in that moment.”
I stared at the three of them.I bounced when Mrs.Nelson ran over what sounded like a small car.
“I didnot—”
