Chapter 13: The Back Seat

The charter bus left Ridgemont at seven on Saturday, and Noah had been awake since four.

He had baked two trays of cinnamon rolls in the mansion kitchen before anyone else stirred.

He carried them onto the bus in a cooler, and a hundred students cheered.

The back bench seated three.

William took the aisle end.

Henry took the window.

Noah sat in the middle with the cooler between his boots, and both of them shifted closer without being asked.

Troy sat across the aisle, alone in a double seat, twisted sideways so he could see Noah.

"This is unfair," Troy said.

"It's a bus," said William. "Seats are first come."

"You came first on purpose."

"Yes."

Henry laughed into his coffee.

The bus pulled onto the highway, and the city fell away behind the window.

Noah ate half a roll and gave the other half to Henry.

Henry took it from his fingers and licked the icing off his thumb.

He never looked at anyone.

Noah's whole arm went warm.

William's hand settled on his thigh.

It did not move.

It just rested there, big and heavy, over the seam of his jeans.

Noah put his own hand over it and laced their fingers.

William went very still, and then he leaned his head back against the seat and shut his eyes.

Across the aisle Troy watched the two joined hands.

He looked at them like a dog looks at a closed door.

Noah reached across the aisle with his free hand, palm up.

Troy took it at once.

For forty minutes Noah sat in the back of a bus with one hand in William's and the other in Troy's.

Henry's knee pressed against his.

Nobody on that bus knew.

"Rule one," Noah said quietly, to the window. "I lead when I want to."

"Yes," three voices said.

"I want to."

Henry took off his glasses.

He folded them into his shirt pocket, and put a coat over Noah's lap, and slid his hand under it.

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