Almost Us Pt 01

Disclaimer: Just a fun little slow burn story that prioritizes emotional tension over purely physical sensations. While there are explicit scenes, they focus more on the emotional impact rather than on lots of detailed physical descriptions. If you're looking for a quick fix or something very graphic, this might not be for you. If you do enjoy it, let me know--it makes my day.

_

There were two things Addison hated more than anything: forced fun and Hunter. And right now, she was staring both of them dead in the face.

"Take a seat, Addison," Mr. Stevens said, his voice sharper than usual.

But Addison didn't move. She stood frozen in the middle of the aisle, her eyes locked with Hunter's. He was sprawled in the last row of the bus, his pack of idiot friends flanking him on all sides, except for the empty window seat to his right.

Addison's stomach sank. She turned, scanning the rows behind her, praying against all odds that some miracle had freed up another seat. Maybe someone got sick, decided to stay behind, or--dare she dream--vanished into thin air.

But every seat was taken. Hannah was staring at her from the front, offering a sympathetic smile. Addison gave her best friend a half-hearted "don't worry" smile in return, then immediately frowned as she saw Mr. Stevens glaring at her. He had that look--the one that said she was one sarcastic comment away from being kicked off the trip. And not just this trip, but school altogether. Graduation was so close she could almost taste it, and the last thing she needed was a suspension.

Still, the thought of sitting next to Hunter for the six-hour drive made her want to hurl. His stupid, messy brown hair that always looked like it just happened to fall perfectly into place. That smug smirk. And those eyes--pretty, greenish-brown, and currently glaring at her like he was just as pissed about this as she was.

"Addison." Mr. Stevens' tone carried a warning.

With a resigned sigh, she stepped toward the back of the bus. "Mind moving over?" she asked, forcing a smile that felt more like baring her teeth.

Hunter didn't even blink. "Yeah, I mind."

Her jaw clenched. Of course, he wasn't going to make this easy. His friends snickered and she could feel everyone's eyes on her, waiting for her to crack and make a scene.

Addison narrowed her eyes. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," he said, his voice calm, almost bored.

Fine. She turned sideways and squeezed past him. Her legs brushed against his knees, and her bag caught on the armrest as she wedged herself into window seat.

Hunter didn't move. Not a single inch. No help. No attempt to make it easier. By the time she finally plopped down, her heart was racing and her fists were clenched in her lap. Every nerve screamed at her to snap back, to call him out for being a complete jerk--but Stevens was still watching, so she bit her tongue.

Addison shoved her backpack under the seat in front of her, threw her headphones over her head, and attempted to discreetly tug the hem of her sundress lower. It was the right length... except when she was next to Hunter and his friends. Then it felt like she might as well be wearing nothing. She would've preferred a full-body snow suit.

It was late September in Southern California, though, and way too hot for that. Without thinking, she'd grabbed her most comfortable sundress for the trip--hadn't even considered the fact that she'd spend the entire ride in this cramped bus, trying to avoid flashing Hunter. She groaned, imagining that she'd have to sleep in this too.

She hadn't thought any of this through. Clearly.

Some classmates had shown up in sweatpants. She'd never worn anything close to that to school in her life, but right now, the idea was suddenly appealing. Six hours in a cramped, sweaty, hot bus. She glanced out the window. The sun was setting, and she could already feel the stifling heat creeping in.

Someone had the brilliant idea to take a night bus to San Francisco so they'd arrive "fresh and rested" in the morning. Addison snorted. There was no way she'd be either of those things. The only silver lining? Hunter would be just as miserable. No matter how much he tried to act unbothered, she could see it in the way his jaw was tight, veins popping in his neck. One of his friends said something, trying to laugh it off, but it sounded forced.

At least that was a little satisfying. She turned back toward the window when her phone buzzed. It was a message from Hannah:

Hannah:

So sorry! I tried to save the seat until the last moment, but Stevens made Rachel sit there. How are you holding up in the back?

Addison:

Not your fault, don't worry.

And I'm dying.

Six hours next to Hunter. Can you even imagine?

Hannah:

Nope, and I really don't want to.

Maybe just try to sleep through it?

Addison:

Yeah, right.

Hannah:

Or hey, maybe you'll talk and finally work out all the shit between you two.

Addison:

Never gonna happen.

She stared at the screen, thinking about it. What would that conversation even look like?

"Hey, Hunter, remember that time when we were 13 and your dad fucked my mom during the Fourth of July, in the garden behind my dad's house? Yeah? Cool. Me too. It was one of those moments you don't forget, right? Totally wrecked two families. My dad's been miserable ever since, lost two jobs, and I'm pretty sure your mom's an alcoholic now. I hear you fight with her when the windows are open. I know you know I know."

Yeah, that was definitely how it would go.

In the back of her mind, she knew it wasn't Hunter's fault his dad was a cheating asshole. But when she was 13, that didn't matter. All she knew was that Hunter's dad made mom leave. She remembered yelling at him in the street when he was taking out the garbage. She'd shoved him, and he'd called her mom a slut. She hadn't even known what that meant, but she'd known it was bad.

That was five years ago, and somehow, the hate she'd felt for Hunter's dad had turned into hate for Hunter. He had that same smug smile. And now that he was 18, he looked even more like him. Addison figured it was probably the same for him. She'd started looking a lot like her mom, something her dad never failed to point out. And not long ago, during one of their drunken fights, he'd called her a

cheap slut

after she'd called him a

cheating asshole

. So, yeah, their relationship? Completely broken.

They were fighting their parents' war, and neither could stop, even though they both knew it was just making things worse.

But to actually talk about it? Like adults? Yeah, no. That would mean forgiving him. Forgiving his dad. Her mom. His mom. And worst of all, her dad--for not seeing it coming. She wasn't even close to ready for that.

About two hours in, Addison was losing the battle to stay awake. The bus lights were dimmed, leaving the space in near-total darkness except for the glow of phone screens scattered here and there. She glanced sideways at Hunter. He was reading on his phone, his head resting against the seat. He looked more relaxed now than earlier, his friends either passed out or curled up in their seats. The two on the other side of the aisle were dead asleep, mouths open and everything.

Addison stood a little, trying to stretch, and looked toward the front of the bus. She could just make out Stevens' head but not much else. The whole bus was actually quiet. Most people seemed to have bought into the whole "fresh and rested" thing. Honestly, she'd expected at least a little chaos. Maybe some annoying laughter or someone blasting a terrible playlist.

She sighed and settled back into her seat, noticing Hunter's eyes on her.

"Got a problem?" she snapped, her voice low.

His face was calm. "Cute," he said flatly, turning back to his phone.

"Jerk." She muttered it under her breath but loud enough that he'd hear.

He didn't respond, and for some reason, that annoyed her even more. She leaned back against the seat, trying to ignore the chill now that the sun had set. Reaching into her backpack, she rummaged around for her hoodie.

Nothing. She groaned softly. Must've put it in her suitcase. Fantastic.

Folding her arms tightly over her chest, she tried to fight the cold, mentally debating whether it'd be worth asking Stevens to stop the bus so she could dig through her suitcase in the hold. Yeah, not worth it. She sighed again, her mood souring by the second.

Next to her, Hunter let out a low chuckle, the kind that practically dripped with mockery.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just trying to figure out how someone like you managed to get into college."

Her jaw tightened. "Someone like me?"

He shrugged, like he didn't even care. "Dumb."

"Dumb?"

He gestured vaguely at her. "You're on a night bus to San Fran, in a sundress, and no sweater, and probably no snacks. What, did your mom never teach you basic survival, or is that just inherited idiocy from your dad?"

Her chest tightened, anger flaring so hot it practically burned the chill off her skin. "At least my dad didn't teach me how to be a cheating asshole. Guess that's just a family tradition for you."

Hunter leaned back, folding his arms like he'd just been waiting for her to say something. "Oh, baby, no one ever explain this to you? Your mom's a cheater too. Pretty sure she knew what she was doing when she spread her legs for my dad."

Her head whipped toward him, eyes blazing. "Say one more thing about my mom, and I swear--"

"What? You gonna hit me? Go for it," he said, leaning in slightly. "Maybe you'll actually land one this time, now that you're not a scrawny seventh grader."

Addison scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. "You deserved it then, and you deserve it now."

"Just admit it, Addison. You always go for violence 'cause you know you can't keep up with me any other way." He chuckled, his tone cutting. "Honestly, be glad you're a girl. Or I'd have knocked you on your ass so many times by now, you wouldn't even remember how to spell your name."

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. The words she wanted weren't there, and the weight of his insults hit harder than usual. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she bit the inside of her cheek, hard, to keep them at bay.

Why was this different? They'd fought like this before--God, so many times--but this one stung.

She sank back into her seat, silent for once, arms wrapping around herself--not because she was cold, but because she needed something to hold her together. She stared out the window at the blur of passing lights, willing herself not to break.

Hunter shifted beside her, and she could feel his eyes on her now. Maybe he realized he'd gone too far. Or maybe he just liked seeing her shut up for once.

Either way, she closed her eyes, her jaw tight. If she could just fall asleep, she'd escape him for a few hours. And right now, even a bad dream sounded better than being awake next to him. She didn't even know why he got under her skin like this--why it always felt like he knew exactly where to press to make her snap. And the worst part? He always seemed to win.

***

The bus jolted over a bump, snapping Addison awake. For a moment, she blinked, disoriented by the darkness and the faint hum of tires against the road. Somewhere, someone snored softly, the sound blending with the low murmur. Her head felt heavy, her cheek was warm against something solid. It took her another second to realize why--she was leaning against Hunter.