Billy and the kid

Billy is the name of a fellow bus passenger. He usually gets up and off at the North Lamar Transit Center. He's in his fifties, and has wispy gray hair that's on its last legs. He wears enormous glasses reminiscent of the '50s, and rides a small bright red mountain bike that he said he spent his week's pay on. The last time I met him, he was alone, and insisted on talking endlessly to me. He popped up today as well.
I actually didn't notice him at first. I was listening to songs on my iPod as usual, humming along to the tune of Numb by Linkin Park, when I noticed a couple of young boys, one riding a bicycle, and one carrying along a scooter, the type that small kids ride. They were around my age, maybe a couple of years younger. I stopped humming, and just listened to the song, when I heard someone call out, "Mandy!"
I turned. It was Billy. I tried hard to keep the annoyance from showing on my face -- I was listening to the songs, dammit -- and smiled at him, yanking the headphones out of my ears. "Billy," I said, politely. "How's it going?"
"Doin' good!" he seemed to be in high spirits. He pointed to one of the young men. "This here is my son, Michael." I took another look at the boy. He was about my height, wearing a white T-shirt and loose, baggy shorts, a cap worn backward over his head. He had stringy blond hair, green eyes, and a face covered liberally with pimples. He gave me a big grin, showing startlingly awkward teeth. My smile froze on my face at the sight of his teeth, but I forced myself not to let the smile slip. I tried to remember what Billy had told me about him from our last conversation. 21 years old, he'd said. The boy looked younger than someone just a year younger than me; but then, some people do mistake me for a high schooler, so I guess I can't complain.
"She works at Dell," Billy explained to his son, and Michael nodded sagely.
Billy then pointed to the other boy. "This is my other son," he said, and I couldn't resist staring this time. The other boy was black, whereas Billy was very much white. I wasn't sure how to react. "Uhhh....."
"From another wife," said Billy, and cackled with laughter. I have no idea whether that was a joke or not. I gave an uncertain smile, and began looking anxiously at the horizon for the bus to arrive.
It finally did, and in there was the cute guy I've noticed since I began interning. I think he's a student, maybe at ACC, maybe at UT, I don't know. He's around my age, tall and skinny, with dark wavy hair and large hazel eyes. I usually steal glances at him, too shy to attempt any kind of conversation. I think he's pretty shy too, for once our eyes met, and we both turned away, blushing. The fact that he blushed too amused me, and made me less self-conscious about him. But except for a brief smile of recognition when I board the bus, we've never exchanged any communication.
The bus driver is a funky guy. He wears sunglasses -- even today, when it was dark and overcast. He greets everyone enthusiastically. "Well, hello there!" he joyously said when I entered the bus. At first his enthusiasm had startled me, but I'm used to it now. "Hello," I said, smiling. "You came just in time," pointing at the water droplets splattering against the windshield. "I know!" he said, with a large grin. I grinned back, the grin freezing as I saw the cute guy.
The rest of the bus ride was spent looking out of the bus, reading a few pages of Anthony Horowitz's Evil Star, and generally thinking about how to solve the JavaScript problem I'd encountered during the day. By the bus got to Hampton and 26th, I wished the driver goodbye, and walked back home.
Interesting ride, with interesting companions!!!