Becker’s Convenience Store

I’m sitting in the mid-section of bus 110 N, and reading D.K. Thomas’ The White Hotel,

and counting the pages left. I can’t believe I have an English essay on this book. It’s already starting to make me feel nauseous. I unzip part of my winter coat. I have no idea why they always have to overheat this section of the bus. I raise my eyes to the neon time indicator above the bus driver seat.

It’s 10:27 pm.

“I should really start coming home earlier,” I think. My head starts to spin. To think that I thought I got over my motion sickness. I try finding somewhere to lean my head. This seat just isn’t working for me, so I make my way to the back of the bus. Hopefully, it’ll be easier to get some rest there.

“Hi Fatima!” I hear from behind me. Turning to my left, I take notice of a boy I see around campus relentlessly. The amount of times I see him is stunning considering we have no classes together.

“Hi Mehdi,” I reply. His copper hands indicate he wants me to sit next to him, his dark brown eyes suggest he wants to make conversation. I, on the other hand, have no will to make small chat but to not be rude, I take a seat, leaving a big gap between us. “So what are you doing here?”
“I just finished studying for a maths exam, so I’m heading home right now, and you?”

“I can’t concentrate at home so I decided to finish some work in a CCT computer lab.” I respond.

“Really? Neither can I, that’s funny.”

The Cineplex Cinema Theater ahead indicates we’re arriving soon. He mentions something about not having been grocery shopping in a while but I’m too distracted to pay attention. I notice his really long nails, he should cut them soon.

I touch the exit door handle with my sleeves and get off the bus.

“Fatima? Are you listening?”
“Huh? Yeah, yeah, I am,” I lie. “Alright I’ll see you around, bye!” As I walk towards my next bus, I notice he’s walking in the same direction. “Don’t you usually take bus 34, or something?” I ask Mehdi, as he enters the second bus with me.

“I need to visit someone before going home,” he assures me, brushing his curly black hair. I wonder where he’d be going at this time of night.

***

I can feel his presence behind me as I get off bus 3 E.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he asks.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I impatiently mumble.

“It can wait. Now come, I’ll walk you home”

“Ok, but wait, didn’t you say you needed to go grocery shopping, let’s go there first”

“Oh yeah, you were listening after all,” he says.

My sigh makes way for the fog fume of breath as I walk towards the closest convenience store. I saved myself some time. When he’s not watching, I check my phone for bus times going back to Square One. The next bus comes in 17 minutes, how wonderful.

***

We’re walking out of Becker’s Convenience Store, and I pace towards the nearest bus stop.

“Wait, I was supposed to walk you home.” He insists.

“No, don’t worry about. It’s getting late, you should really go home and get some rest”

Are you sure? He keeps asking persistently.

“Yes, I am. I don’t want you walking me home, I’m sorry. Can you please just go?” I beg him. His hurt face glows beneath the bus shelter light and I start to feel the guilt.

“This is not how I wanted this to end,” he says.