For one instant, Ben’s shoulders tightened.
Then he listened again.
The boy was laughing at a video with his friend.
Nothing to do with Ben.
The realization passed through him quietly.
At the library stop, the driver set the brake and looked into the mirror.
“Ben, your stop.”
He lifted two fingers.
Not because he needed help.
Just to show he had heard.
The driver nodded.
Ben stepped off the bus and opened June’s umbrella from underneath before she could angle it over him. She complained that he was getting rain on her debate folder.
He moved closer anyway.
Behind them, the bus pulled away.
Ben could hear the engine fading down the wet street, but he did not turn to watch it go.
He and June walked toward the library side by side, the red umbrella centered over both of them, while the rain made all the ordinary sounds of an afternoon he no longer had to survive.
