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Show Fair Forever , , _;' . . . 72 compounds which Jennie had bounced about like a moth circling a light. She had bounced for the rest of the year. ... ,".---- I decide I don?t want to be first. - . - In the end, I wait too long. Had I lined up at the proper time, I would have been one of the last, but not the last. The best seats, the middle seats, are already filled, of course. Being last, I can walk all the way to the back, passing all the filled benches as a certified loser-an admission that I have no one to sit with. Or I can sit on the front bench, the bench diagonally across from the bus driver. No one sits on the front bench. The front bench remains vacant-a testament to the rule that even the lowest, humblest, most desperate student understands that certain seats have to remain empty. If I sit on the front bench, Mr. Bell, the bus driver, will talk to me like we're best friends. . "Wasn't it great to be back in school," he will ask. "Why aren't you sitting with your girlfriend?" he will add, and his voice will be loud enough to be heard in California. Then he'll pull out his comb and rake his thirteen black hairs from his left ear to his right. I'd seen him do it last year, the only day I rode the bus. . Scanning the bus, I try to decide. Katie,Lindstrom waves. She's sitting in the middle with a crowd of girlfriends, but she encourages me forward, I consider the long walk. I look at the front bench. Mr. Bell smiles and pulls out his comb. Giving up, I touch my scar and sit and wait for Mr. Bell to start talking. |