A brunette sat in the back of the bus. Headphones hugged bits of her hair as she lightly bobbed her head to the music. After a few minutes of sitting, she grabbed her bag and pulled the tight collar of her hooded sweatshirt. She glanced at the driver.

Casie was shy. Blinking, she prayed he wouldn’t find her staring. She cleared her throat, and her cheeks flushed from the warm air. She was too nervous to take off the suffocating material. He might see her.

It’s been years since they last met. Her eyes flashed a memory: a carnival. He kissed her, held her hand, and whispered in her delicate ear. Now, years later, he was driving a bus and the thought of her was probably thousands of miles away.

She even remembered how he looked that night. His hair was combed back, his smile was stretched from ear to ear, and he wore faint cologne on his neck. They have been friends since they were kids, but no one had the heart to say anything. It was a perfect night and the weeks after…until someone had to move.

Casie looked at her shoes and wondered why she even bothered to dress like this. They weren’t sixteen, anymore. Maybe she wanted him to notice her, but he would’ve kept in touch. He could have called, wrote, or even visited her new house. Her heart sank as the bus stopped on 23rd street.

She could almost smell the cologne as she walked passed him. As the double doors opened, snow glittered the steps. Casie dared herself to see his face. A few wrinkles painted his forehead but he still appeared to be the same. He looked up, and watched her for a moment with a blank expression. Then, he smiled.