by Sean Boling
Chapter Twelve: Mia
She had the window seat on the bus ride back from Mr. Pluma’s company, since Kimmy had it on the way there. That was the deal. They felt it was worth compromising to sit in the back row, as it put them the farthest away from authority.
Beatrice sat in the seat in front of them, and had the window round-trip, since she sat next to a girl who preferred the aisle.
Artie sat in the center of the back row, so Mia had been next to him en route to his Dad’s display. She had wanted to talk to him more than she did, and Kimmy kept nudging her to do so, but the kind of conversation she wanted to have with him was not possible. She wanted to pick up on what he had said to her the day they found themselves alone, setting up the obstacle course for the Kindergarteners. That wasn’t going to happen on a noisy bus filled with noisy kids, though, particularly in the back of it.
Kimmy had no trouble talking to him. The chaos and shallow chit chat fostered by their surroundings was the way she liked it. Any animosity she held over recent encounters with Artie had either passed or was lying dormant in the interest of enjoying the moment.
She harped on his size, as she often did, but this time in a manner that played up how cuddly and cute it made him.
“Look, Mia,” she sung above the clamor.
Mia pulled her attention away from the tawny valley that passed by the window. Kimmy had Artie on her lap.
“I made him at a Build-A-Bear Workshop,” she rested her head against his. “It’s an Artie. Isn’t he cute?”
Mia smiled and was about to look back out the window.
“And watch,” Kimmy continued. “When you tickle him…”
Artie pretended to dread what was coming next. Kimmy followed through.
“He giggles and wiggles!”
He indeed did all of the above. Some of the other kids noticed and took time off from the rest of the adjacent goofiness to laugh along with him, or perhaps at him.
“There’s like a computer chip inside him or something,” Kimmy added. “Ooh, the things they can do nowadays.”
The noise level rose to a point where the bus driver and Mr. Benton snapped at everyone to quiet down.
Enough of them obeyed to bring down the volume.
Kimmy stopped tickling Artie and pinched his cheek before shoving him back into his seat with a “Stay there, Artie Bear.”
Mia was finally able to return her gaze to the countryside, and noticed Beatrice looking back. She smirked and shook her head for Mia’s benefit, who silently agreed. Mia thought the aisle seat next to Beatrice was looking pretty good.
The back of the bus soon started to regenerate its rolling circus, with each clique once again establishing their rings.
“Why don’t you ever grab Mia’s butt?” she heard Kimmy ask Artie.
Mia was blinded with adrenaline as she pretended not to hear. There may as well have been nothing on the other side of the glass for her to see.
“What?” Artie said, sounding as surprised as Mia felt.
“You heard me,” Kimmy pressed on. “You’re either afraid to, or just don’t want to.”
“Why would I be afraid?” Artie quivered.
“Because you like her.”
Mia glanced around as best she could without moving her head, trying to see if anyone else had taken an interest in the conversation. Everyone seemed to be preoccupied with their own contributions to the bustle, which provided a flash of relief.
“I don’t like her,” he said, then qualified his answer. “In that way.”
“Aw, come on,” Kimmy volleyed. “Her butt’s even nicer than mine. She just doesn’t flaunt it like I do. I’ll bet that’s why you don’t grab it. You respect her too much.”
“Kimmy…” Mia decided to get involved.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Kimmy put her arm around Mia. “Admit it. Your butt is better than mine. And I’m fine with it.”
She lowered her arm down Mia’s back.
“Fine,” she said as she brought her hand across Mia’s waist.
“You hear me?” she passed below the belt. “Fine!”
Mia jumped and laughed before Kimmy could reach the topic of discussion. She wondered if Kmmy was always conscious of her relationship to the word ‘fine’, or if she had finally caught on thanks to spending more time with the likes of her and Beatrice.
As Mia calmed down, she noticed how Artie was looking at her. He was wide open, not a trace of buffoonery or bravado on his face, appearing to have finally met an object of his affection whom he had only seen from a distance.
Mia had never had this effect on anyone before, and never imagined she would. The adrenalin that had blinded her now filled her with a warm awareness. She felt as though her body was growing bigger and lighter at the same time.
“And I totally get it,” Kimmy narrated the moment Mia shared with Artie. “I totally get the attraction. She’s got a lot more brains than I do, to go with that tight little bod.”
Mia lapsed back into a thin layer of discomfort, but only out of modesty rather than a desire for Kimmy to stop. She was feeling too beautiful to want it to end.
“We don’t have to test the smarts,” Kimmy proceeded. “I mean, the results have been in all year. Can we agree that Mia is smarter than me?”
“Yes,” Artie smiled.
Mia turned away and felt herself blush.
“So all we need to do is prove the body part,” Kimmy said. “Since she doesn’t show it off like I do, we need a test.”
Mia didn’t remember what followed with as much accuracy as what preceded it.
She remembered Kimmy switching places with Artie so that he was in between them.
She remembered standing up and turning around and thinking he was just going to look at each of them from behind.
She remembered Beatrice making an effort to not look back.
And she remembered being relieved that Kimmy was blocking everyone’s view of what happened, whatever it was.
