121 Express (5 page)

“Don't forget the French dictée tomorrow!” someone else called out.

More cars honked.

Kids stepped around the driver, who'd started rocking himself.

Only Sandeep stopped to talk to him. “Excuse me, sir,” he said. He sounded embarrassed. “But is there anything I can do to help?”

The driver shook his head no. His cheeks were wet from crying.

Sandeep put his arm under the driver's shoulder and helped him back into his seat. “I'm going to call for help,” he told him. “And I'll wait with you till someone comes.”

Georgie smacked Sandeep's arm as we got off the bus. “Suck-up!” Georgie muttered.

“At least now raghead's got a friend,” Pierre added.

Sandeep winced. I was starting to regret I'd ever called him raghead. I hadn't expected the name to stick.

The driver was hunched over in his
seat, his head in his hands. Sandeep patted his back like he was a baby.

The whole thing was sad and funny at the same time. Maybe more sad than funny. I turned back to look at the driver before I stepped off the bus. “Take care, man,” I whispered.

But I couldn't tell whether or not he'd heard me.

Lance Armstrong was my idea. “Even after he had cancer, the guy won the Tour de France—seven times,” I'd told Sandeep.

Mr. Adams had paired Sandeep and me up for the modern-day heroes project. We had to choose a hero and then present him—or her—to the class.

Sandeep and I were having trouble agreeing on a hero. We'd been discussing it since last period. We'd walked out of school together and now, since we were lined up
next to each other at the bus stop, we'd picked up the conversation again. “Some people say Lance Armstrong took steroids,” Sandeep said. “Heroes don't take drugs.”

Sandeep had a point.

But I wasn't ready to give up quite so easily. “Just because people say something, doesn't make it true. Besides, heroes don't have to be perfect.”

“They don't have to be perfect; they have to be decent—and fair,” Sandeep said. “If he did use steroids, it wouldn't have been fair to the other cyclists. What about Tenzing Norgay? He was the Nepalese mountaineer who reached the summit of Mount Everest with Edmund Hillary on May 29, 1953.”

“How do you know stuff like that?”

“I like trivia. And I have a good memory.”

“If we do Tenzing Norgay, then why not Edmund Hillary too? Mr. Adams said one hero only per group. So that pretty much rules out old Tenzing.”

The bus pulled up to the curb. Jake had fallen asleep during English, so Mr. Adams
kept him in after class, but now I spotted him rushing out of the building. He waved in my direction.

“Look,” I told Sandeep, taking a few steps away from him, “let's both do some more research tonight. Then we can talk about it again tomorrow—in class.”

Sandeep's eyes met mine. “I see,” he said.

Jake clapped me on the shoulder. “So you and raghead hanging out now?”

I took another step away from Sandeep. “Nah,” I said, “we got stuck together on that English project is all. We're still deciding on a hero.”

Georgie's music was blaring when we got on the bus. Pierre had already pried open the ceiling window. Kelly, who'd been chewing gum, blew a big pink bubble that somehow ended up bursting in Jewel's hair. “You get it out of my hair this instant!” Jewel shouted.

“I can't. It's stuck!” Then Kelly started laughing hysterically.

“You could try rubbing ice on it,” Sandeep suggested.

Jewel put her face right up to Kelly's. “You're evil!”

“Fight! Fight!” voices chanted from the back of the bus. Other kids started clapping.

There was so much noise, we almost didn't see Old Quack Quack at the curb. It was hard to tell who noticed him, but suddenly Jewel popped back into her seat, and the yelling and clapping came to a halt.

Old Quack Quack was rubbing his temples. He must've heard us from outside the bus. “I'll just be a minute or two,” he told the driver.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I'm going to need to see three of you—in private.”

The tension on the bus was so strong you could feel it in theair, like a giant bubble about to burst.

What was Old Quack Quack talking about?

Who were the three kids he wanted to see? And was I one of them?

Old Quack Quack took a sheet of lined paper from his jacket pocket. “Jake Adams,” he said, his voice dull, as if he was just waking up after a long nap.

I looked over at Jake, who was pushing Kelly off his lap.

“Georgie Papadopoulos.”

Georgie groaned.

My heart thumped.

“And Lucas Samson. I'm afraid the three of you won't be riding the 121 Express today.”

When we got up from our seats, the bus was completely still. Most of the kids kept their eyes on the floor. But Jewel Chu smiled when we passed her.

Sandeep was the only one who actually said something. But what he said had nothing to do with our getting in trouble. “How about Rosa Parks?” he whispered to me.

Rosa Parks? What was Sandeep talking about? And then it dawned on me: Rosa Parks was a modern-day hero. She had something to do with the American civil rights movement.

Leave it to Sandeep to be thinking about our English project. I sure wasn't thinking about school. And I wasn't even thinking about how upset my parents were going to be when they found out I'd gotten in trouble. No, I was only thinking about one thing. It was the same thing everyone on the bus—except Sandeep—was thinking about.

Who was the snitch?

Old Quack Quack called our punishment “community service,” but we knew it was just his way of getting free labor: He was making the three of us paint the lockers.

At least we still got to ride the 121 Express.

The new bus driver had a face like stone. He didn't show any reaction when we got on the bus on Monday afternoon. And he didn't say a word when Georgie didn't show him his bus pass. He kept his
eyes on the road and paid no attention to our screaming and fighting.

“The other driver was way more fun,” Kelly said. “At least he noticed us.”

Even though Kelly was still going out with Jake, she was back on speaking terms with Georgie, who sat with Pierre in the seat behind the two lovebirds.

“Kelly,” Georgie said, “I've got this really cool idea.” Then he dropped his voice. “How'd you like to play a little trick on raghead?”

I groaned—but only to myself. Couldn't these guys find something better to do than torment Sandeep?

“This trick you're talking about,” Kelly said to Georgie, “what's in it for me?”

“How does ten bucks sound?”

“What do I have to do?” “

Just kiss him—on the lips.”

“Eww,” Kelly said, “there's no way. Besides, Jake wouldn't like it, would you, Jakey?” If Jake didn't like being called Jakey, he didn't let on.

Georgie leaned forward. “It'd just be a
joke,” he said, slapping his thigh. “Imagine how old raghead'll react! Getting kissed by a hot girl like you! The guy'll think he got sent to heaven. Besides, Jake wouldn't mind, would you Jake? I mean it's not like you own Kelly.”

Kelly crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course he doesn't own me.”

“Do it if you want,” Jake said. “I guess it could be kind of funny.”

“Ten bucks?” Kelly asked. “How ‘bout fifteen?”

Georgie turned to face the rest of us. “What do you guys say? Anyone want to put up another five?”

“I'll do it,” Pierre said, pulling a five-dollar bill out and handing it to Georgie.

Phew, I thought. It was a mean prank, and I was relieved I wasn't going to be part of it. Besides, I'd sworn off troublemaking. What kind of guy was I if I couldn't keep a promise I'd made to myself?

“Do you want me to do it now?” Kelly asked.

Georgie and Pierre nodded.

Kelly didn't just walk over to the front of the bus. She sauntered over like she was a movie star. She took really small steps and her hips swiveled the whole way.

Part of me felt bad for Sandeep. But I had to admit another part of me was looking forward to seeing how embarrassed he'd be. In a way, the guy had it coming. This is what he gets for acting like he's so much smarter than the rest of us.

I moved to the edge of my seat to get a better view. As usual, Sandeep had his nose in a textbook. Georgie and Pierre were already laughing.

When Kelly said, “Hey, Sandeep,” Sandeep nearly dropped his book. Even from where I was sitting, I could see him blush. It looked like he was trying to say something back to Kelly, only he couldn't.

“I've got something for you, Sandeep. It's a little present from your friends at the back of the bus.” Kelly tossed her blond hair in our direction. When she leaned toward Sandeep, he moved away. What kind of guy who was about to be kissed by
the hottest girl on the 121 Express would do that?

But Kelly was quicker than him. She leaned over so her chest was right where Sandeep's book had been—and kissed him smack on the lips.

Jewel Chu's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head. “Are you going out with him, now?” she asked.

Kelly turned to face Jewel. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe not.”

Everyone cracked up. This was the funniest thing that had happened on the bus in weeks. Maybe that's why we didn't notice when Sandeep started making weird gulping noises.

But Jewel noticed. “I think he's having an allergic reaction,” she shouted.

Sandeep's dark skin had become much paler and he had a panicked look in his eyes. It looked like he was trying to swallow, but there was something caught in his throat.

“He's pointing at something!” Kelly called out. She was still standing in the aisle, only now she looked embarrassed.
I guess she didn't like the idea of a guy being allergic to her—even if the guy was Sandeep.

Sandeep's hand was trembling, but Jewel was right, he was pointing across the aisle to where Valerie was sitting.

“It's your brown bag!” Jewel yelled. “I think he wants your brown bag.”

Valerie dumped the contents of her bag on the floor—a bruised banana and a bag of chips—and threw the bag over to Kelly, who gave it to Sandeep.

Sandeep leaned over the bag, and I was sure he was going to vomit into it—the way people do when they get motion sickness on an airplane. But he just breathed into the bag, taking long deep breaths until he returned to normal.

“Are you okay?” Kelly asked.

Sandeep just kept breathing into the bag.

“Maybe he really is allergic to you,” Jewel said.

Sandeep's reaction pretty much took the fun out of the whole plan. Kelly refused
to take Georgie's fifteen bucks. “Keep your money,” she said. “It was a dumb idea anyway.”

Even after Sandeep folded up the brown bag, he wouldn't look up.

“What'd you do? Drop your physics notes on the floor?” Jake called out.

Kelly smacked Jake's arm. “Don't give him a hard time,” she said.

We hit every red light on the way from the Côte-Vertu metro station to our stop. When Sandeep stood up, I got up and followed him to the front of the bus. “You okay?” I asked.

Sandeep raised his eyes from the floor. “Ever notice how you only talk to me when your pals aren't around?” he said. “Why do you think that is?”

I shrugged. “I was just asking is all.”

“I'm okay,” Sandeep said.

When the bus stopped, he rushed out and headed down the street.

Now it was just me and the driver. I turned to face him. He looked much younger than the last driver—but maybe
that was only because he was new to the route. Maybe we'd age this guy too. “What happened to our last driver?” I asked.

“Breakdown,” he said, without looking up from the wheel and making it sound as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Nervous collapse. It's a shame too. That guy was a real fighter in the bus drivers' union. We could always count on him to stand up for the rest of us.”

Jewel Chu snickered when I passed her on my way to the back of the bus. “You've got paint stains on the bottom of your pants!”

As if I hadn't noticed.

Jake, Georgie and I had spent lunch and recess painting lockers. My back ached from the work and my whole body stank of turpentine. But there was some good news: Annabelle Miller had got her vision back, and we'd be finished painting the lockers by the end of the week.

Of course, we had to put up with a bit of teasing.

“I heard Old Quack Quack tell the viceprincipal that when you guys are done, he's gonna have you come to his house and paint the garage,” Kelly said.

Jake pushed the hair out of his eyes. “Tell me you're kidding.”

Kelly burst into laughter. We figured that meant she was kidding.

Teasing someone was way more fun than getting teased.

At least Sandeep and I had finally agreed on a hero—or as it turned out, a heroine. We'd decided to do our presentation on Rosa Parks, after all. I was right about her having something to do with the American civil rights movement. Mrs. Parks had fought against racial discrimination on the city buses in Montgomery, Alabama. In 1955, Mrs. Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white person. And as far as we knew, she'd never been accused of taking steroids.

Valerie tapped my elbow as I made my
way down the aisle. “I think it's cool you guys chose a woman as your hero. It shows you're progressive.”

I was so surprised she'd talked to me that I didn't know what to say. “Uh, thanks,” I managed to mutter.

Jake narrowed his eyes when he saw me talking to Valerie. “I bet you anything she's the snitch,” he said when I got to the back of the bus. “Haven't you seen her writing in that little notebook she's got? She probably records our every move so she and Old Quack Quack have something to talk about.”