“Actually I’m old—fourteen—but new to the school.”
“I heard you ride the Divorce Express.”
“You heard?” I didn’t think anyone had even noticed me.
“Woodstock’s really a small town. Word gets around. I usually ride the bus, too, but haven’t lately. My father’s a musician and he’s been on tour, so I haven’t been going. I start next weekend.”
“Maybe we can sit together next time.” I blurt it out without thinking that maybe she’s already got someone to sit with. What if she says no or makes some dumb excuse to get out of it?
“Great. It’s been really boring, the times I had to go down there. A lot of kids our age who have ridden on the bus for years give it up by the time they’re in high school. I used to sit with my best friend, Jenny, but she had to go live in New York full-time. There was a custody fight and her father won.”
“I live with my father, too, but there was no custody fight. It just worked out that way.” Even though I’m sorry about her friend leaving, I kind of hope that she’s got an opening for the position of new best friend.