It settles into the same quiet normality she’s been seeing everywhere else.

Riley slides into an empty seat by the window and shifts slightly as she sits, the surface cool at first before it starts to warm under her. The glass beside her still holds a faint chill from the morning air, brushing lightly against her arm as she leans closer to it.

Outside, the guy is still standing by the shelter.

He hasn’t moved to follow her.

For a second she thinks he might just turn away and leave, but instead he looks up and spots her through the window. He lifts a hand in a small wave, easy and casual.

Riley watches him.

Then she smiles.

The motion comes quicker than she expects, lighter, less thought behind it than usual. She lifts her hand, presses her fingers briefly to her lips, and blows him a kiss through the glass.

It’s playful.

Something she wouldn’t have done five days ago.

Not even close.

The doors close with a soft thud, sealing the warmth of the bus around her as it begins to move.

The bus doesn’t take long to fill.

A few stops later it slows again, the doors folding open to let in a cluster of middle schoolers, all noise and movement and restless energy that immediately changes the atmosphere inside. Voices overlap, bags bump into seats, someone laughs too loudly at something that wasn’t that funny to begin with.

The quiet from earlier doesn’t disappear completely, but it shifts. Loosens.

Riley watches them file in.

Uniforms, mostly neat but already slipping in small ways. Sleeves rolled. Ties loosened. Buttons left undone where they shouldn’t be. The kind of quiet adjustments people make when they’re pushing against rules without quite breaking them.

One girl ends up beside her.

She drops into the seat with a soft huff, adjusting her bag at her feet before settling back. Her uniform would be crisp if she wore it properly. Instead, the sleeves are pushed up past her elbows, the top two buttons of her shirt undone, and her tie hangs loose, dragged down far lower than it’s supposed to be.

It’s how she used to wear it before she turned red but she can’t really see herself in it anymore.

Like it’s something that belongs to a different version of her.

She had worn that uniform once. Sat in those same seats, worried about the same small things that don’t seem to matter as much now. The memory sits there for a moment, quiet and detached, before drifting off again.

The girl glances at her.

Quick at first. Just a flick of the eyes.

Then again a few seconds later, a little longer this time before she looks away.

It’s not subtle enough to miss, but it’s not bold either. Something in between. Curiosity held back just enough to stay polite.

She gets it.

So she stays quiet.

Lets the glances happen.

Lets the moment pass the way everything else has been passing—noticed, understood, and then left alone.

“Excuse me,” the girl beside her says, “You’re Riley right, Amanda’s friend?”

She doesn’t look away when she speaks, but the faint flush across her cheeks gives her away anyway.

“Do you want my blazer?” she adds after a second. “It might be better than… how you are now.”

Riley smiles slightly.

“Not allowed,” she says, easy and casual. “But thanks.”

The girl nods, like she expected that answer.

The bus hums around them for a minute, the noise of other students filling the space without really touching this small pocket of quiet between their seats.

Then the girl speaks again.

“Is being red scary?”

Riley takes a moment before answering.

She looks out the window briefly, watching the street slide past, then back ahead.

“Yes,” she says.

She doesn’t dress it up.

“You know what happens at the end of the seven days, right?”

The girl nods.

Small. Certain.

Her hand lifts slightly, almost without thinking, and she runs a finger lightly along the front of her throat before letting it drop back to her lap.

Riley watches the movement, then looks away again, letting the bus carry them forward.

“I never sleep on Sunday nights,” the girl admits quietly. “It’s so damn scary. What if it’s me, you know?”

Her blush deepens slightly, and she glances down for a second.

“I mean… I guess you do know.”

Riley smiles, small and steady.

“Just accept it, I guess,” she says. “If it happens, it happens.”

The girl lets out a soft breath, somewhere between a laugh and something else.

“I wish I was as brave as you, is it true you needed Miss Lennox to strip you?” she asks. “I’d probably freak out if someone had to undress me.”

“It wasn’t fun but I dunno, I kinda got used to it.”

Her voice stays even.

“Here’s what helped me on my first day,” Riley says.

The girl looks at her properly now, paying full attention.

“I found this café that does hot drinks and cakes,” Riley continues. “They let Animals have some of the basic stuff for free.”

She shifts slightly as the bus moves, the window brushing cool against her arm before she leans away from it again.

“So get something warm,” she adds. “Something you can just sit with. And whatever cake or pastry you want.”

A small pause.

“No point counting calories anymore.”

“And if someone wants you touch you, like in your pussy or whatever, let them. It’s better than being tense.”

The girl lets out a quiet, uncertain laugh, like she’s not sure whether that’s comforting or not, but she nods anyway, holding onto the idea.

The bus slows as it approaches the next stop.

Her old school.

It looks exactly the same.

Same brick walls. Same gates. Same stretch of pavement where students gather in loose groups before the bell. Nothing about it has changed, not really.

But it doesn’t feel like hers anymore.

Beside her, the girl shifts and stands, adjusting her bag as the bus comes to a stop. She hesitates for a second, then looks down at Riley.

“Thanks,” she says.

Small. Genuine.

Then she’s gone, stepping into the aisle and joining the others as they spill out onto the pavement, voices rising again as they head toward the entrance.

Riley watches them through the window for a moment.

Then the doors close, and the bus pulls away.

The building slips out of view.

Riley leans back slightly in her seat, one hand resting loosely against her stomach as the warmth inside the bus settles around her again.

There’s a soft, quiet feeling in her chest.

Not strong. Not overwhelming.

But she can feel it.

It had been nice.

Helping.

Riley shifts slightly in her seat as the bus moves, settling back into the warmth. Her hand drifts lower, settling against her slit, fingers tracing without much thought, the motion slow and absent while she watches the street pass by outside.

It takes her a moment to notice.

Then she does.

A small pause.

She stills her hand, not quickly, just aware now, letting it rest back against her side.

Across the aisle, a man glances over.

His eyes flick down for a second, taking in the movement, then back up again. No reaction. No comment. Just a quiet acknowledgment before he returns to his phone.
Animal’s masturbate in public all the time but the thought still makes Riley blush.
The bus hums steadily around them.
Riley leans back into her seat, the warmth still there, the moment already fading.