He turns the key, and, much to our relief, the bus starts. And then the engine splutters and the bus is off again. Great.
"I told you it wouldn't work," I said to him smugly. Despite the fact that I was stuck here with him in the middle of nowhere, I feel the satisfaction of being proved right.
"You didn't say it wouldn't work," Ryan said, glaring at me in the mirror.
"Okay, well, I thought it. I also thought slash think that you are crazy," I retorted harshly.
"Okay. You don't like me. I get that. But right now isn't the time for arguing. We've gotta get out of here. I'm going to try getting this thing to start again."
"Fine. Do what you want. I'm walking home," I said. I stood and walked to the door of the bus. The doors remained closed, though, even as I pushed on them.
"Let me out, Ryan," I order.
"No. We don't know what's out there, or if it's dangerous, and until we know, we're staying together. It's safer that way," he said firmly, as the engine of the bus roared to life.
My eyes went wide with shock, and I stood there gaping at him like a moron as he throws his head back and laughs in triumph.
Ryan's foot pushed the gas petal, and the bus surged forward, almost knocking me off of my feet.
"Ryan, do you even have your license?" I asked him, exasperated; my voice was raised a notch or two higher than its normal pitch, and he looked at me and laughed again.
"Right now, I don't think it matters," he smirked at me.
I sat down in one of the ugly brown leather seats and looked around me. With a shock, I realized that no one was on the bus except Ryan and me. Weird. Fifteen minutes ago, this bus was filled with rowdy, immature, and adolescent teenagers like Ryan. Okay... maybe not all like Ryan-- Ryan had his moments, if I have to admit it. But I still hated him.
Nothing, and I do in fact mean nothing will make me forget that. I. Hate. Ryan.