OK. Goth Girl on the Bus and Goth Boy on the Bus, Friday edition. It was pouring down rain when I got on the bus. Goth Girl was sitting in her usual seat, cross-legged, scribbling furiously with a colored pencil. She was wearing a white blouse with ruffles around the neck, a black and white skirt, a black corset on the outside of the blouse, four orange bead bracelets on her right wrist, two silver bead bracelets on her left wrist, a long necklace with a purple pendant, purple hoop earrings, and an orange beaded hair tie holding her hair in a ponytail. She was wearing dark eyeshadow and had cat-eye eyeliner.
She sorted through a stack of index-card sized papers. I couldn't tell what was on them. She had a fistful of colored pencils and kept changing colors to fill in something.
When Goth Boy got on, she scooted over but did not look at him. He said hi, she said hi. He was soaking wet because he did not have an umbrella. What is it with people who know it's raining yet don't carry an umbrella? We do have ways to keep the water off our bodies.
She maintained her cross-legged pose, which meant he did not have as much room to sit. He was not wearing a jacket today - it was warm enough yesterday and today to go outside without a coat, which has not happened since October.
He wore black jeans and a maroon t-shirt. I counted the keys on his key clip/lanyard. At least eight. Who needs eight keys? I have two - the house key and the car key. That's it. What are all those keys for? Eight? Who needs eight keys?
He looked over at her but she kept her head down, looking at her drawing. She is a lefty - is that why she has only two bracelets on her left wrist?
The middle-aged white lady who was being comforted by the young African-American guy yesterday afternoon got on the bus.* Her bag of pink sequins cut the rainy gloom a bit. It was overcast enough that Goth Girl was not wearing her sunglasses.
Goth Girl spilled her box of pencils on the seat - at least a dozen of them. Goth Boy quickly moved so he could gather them for her. She said something to him that I did not catch. I hope it was "thank you."
Then they returned to silence, with her looking down and him looking at her hopefully every few minutes.
He put his arm around her! Yay!
Wait. No. He put his arm behind her to pull for the stop.
What is going on with them? If they are broken up, why do they sit together? If they are not broken up, why don't they talk to each other? What is this limbo?
They got off the bus. She opened her umbrella and shared it with him. Maybe there is hope.
* Young AA man, tall, thin, wearing red pants and orange topsiders - I like him already - and a hoodie with a red and white Navajo pattern on it, big sunglasses, to middle-aged white lady as he held her left hand in both of us: Oh honey, we've all been there. We've all had our hearts broken. You just have to get back out there!