I wrote this story for my creative writing class. This story is partially true, but I'll leave it at that.

The school bell rang, and all the kids ran outside the front door. I was happy to finally go home. I walked over to my school bus, went up the bus stairs, and greeted our bus driver, Castro. He sometimes wore baseball hats along with his daily pair of glasses and signature white grey mustache. He was your typical grandfather bus driver. I usually sat in the first few seats; nothing past the fifth row. Anything after that made me anxious.

All the foolish, nasty kids sat in the back, or as Castro called them, "the fresh kids." Whenever one of the kids did something bad and would rudely talk back to Castro, he would say in his rough Cuban accent, "Don't be fresh!" I walked up to my usual seat, which was the second row to my left when I went down the aisle. I would regularly sit towards the window and placed my backpack in the empty spot next to me, so Jordan wouldn't sit there. Jordan was this boy who was stubbornly in love with me and started sitting next to me on the bus.

So, I did everything in my power to avoid him as much as I could. At first, he started to get the message and would continue on to the next few rows after me. But today, he walked onto the bus, came up to where I was, shoved my backpack to the floor, and sat next to me. I gave him a miffed look, and he said, "Hey, cutie. How are you?"

"Jordan, I was saving that seat for a friend. Go sit somewhere else," I said and refrained from looking him in the face. He was this uncomfortably annoying kid who wore these beat up glasses and stained striped t-shirts. It mostly disgusted me how he would call me "baby" in what he thought was a sexy voice. I would've been nicer to him, but he was just being a prick by this point. He then placed his hand on my upper thigh, over my dress. I immediately grabbed his hand and threw it off. I shoved him over, and he fell to the aisle floor. The kids in the back of the bus laughed, and he sat up and quickly jumped to the row diagonally behind me.

The rest of the bus ride home I felt Jordan creepily staring me down; as he usually did. He seemed upset with me, but at the same time, my feistiness must have turned him on cause I looked over my shoulder and he smiled at me and blew me a kiss. I avoided looking at him the rest of the ride home.

Castro finally made it to my stop, and I got off, said goodbye to Castro, and started to walk my way home. My bus stop was right around the corner from where my house was. I walked. The sun was glaring and was as radiant as Jordan's eyes were to the back of my head. When I finally reached the corner toward the end of my street, a car came up to my side. It was a white, thrashed jeep, and a light brown skinned man with a trimmed black beard in the driver's seat. He said, "Hey there. What are you doing walking by yourself?"

"I'm walking home. It's right over there." I said to the random Jeep man.

"Would you like a ride home?" he said after me.

I don't know why the next words out my mouth were, "Yes. Thank you." I knew my house was only a few houses down. Why would I say yes to a man who I had never even seen before? I remember my mom always told me to never speak to strangers, but I assumed it'd be fine since it was only about four houses down. What could possibly happen? I got into the car.

We drove past my house and continued to accelerate faster as we got to the other end of my street.