Dylan hugged his parents good-bye as the bus pulled into the station. He had had a good visit with them, but since he lived a three-hour bus ride away he was only able to see them about one weekend a month. He looked forward to his next visit, but he also looked forward to getting home to all the games that he hadn't packed, not to mention the friends he had made since moving. He had packed light; everything he had needed to bring for the weekend had fit into a backpack, the same one he had used when he was in school. He didn't bother to give it to the person loading the luggage compartment, opting instead to bring it onto the bus with him.
After showing his ticket and boarding the bus, Dylan chose a row near the middle; he didn't want to be the very last person to leave the bus, but he wanted to make sure that the frontmost seats were available for anyone who had trouble walking. He sat in the seat by the window, put his backpack under his seat, and watched the bus continue to fill up. Some of the passengers sat near the front, some near the back, and some not too far from Dylan himself. He noticed one extremely attractive woman with long, wavy caramel-coloured hair boarding the bus, wearing a backpack of her own. Dylan hoped she would sit somewhere in his field of vision, so he could glance at her once in a while to make the long bus ride pass more quickly.
Dylan glanced frequently at the woman as she walked along the aisle. He couldn't help smiling slightly as she got closer. When she was a few rows away, he directed his gaze elsewhere but continued to watch her from the corner of his eye. When she reached his row, she startled Dylan by looking straight at him. Dylan looked at her nervously, and she gestured to the seat the seat next to him and asked, "Is it okay if I sit here?"
"Sure," Dylan said, not believing his luck.
"Thanks," the woman said, taking off her backpack and sitting down. She unzipped her backpack, took out a bottle, and handed it to Dylan. "Want some lemonade?" she asked.
"Sure," Dylan said again, taking the bottle and opening it. He took a sip, then closed the bottle back up and handed it back to the woman as she zipped her backpack back up.
"Keep it," she said, not taking the bottle back. "I have others for myself." Dylan opened the bottle back up, took another few sips, then closed it and put it into the netting on the back of the seat in front of him, while the woman put her backpack under her seat. "I'm April," the woman said, extended her right hand.
"Dylan," Dylan said, shaking her hand.
The bus started moving. Dylan looked out the window and saw that his parents were still there. He waved good-bye to them until they were out of sight.
"Friends of yours?" April asked.
"My parents," Dylan answered. "I came to visit them for the weekend." He retrieved the bottle of lemonade and took another sip before putting it back.
"Did you enjoy seeing them?" April inquired.
"Yes, I did," Dylan replied. "It'll be good to get home, though."
"I hear you," April said. "Trips are fun, but carrying around luggage can make you a bit weary. I mean, I know you only came for the weekend, but you must have at least brought a change of clothes, right?"
"Yeah, and even if I'd just brought my toothbrush that's still more than I'd have to have on me at home."
"Do you come this way often?"
"About once every three weeks."
They continued chatting as the bus made its way to the freeway and then picked up speed. Occasionally Dylan would glance out the window, but most of the time he was focused on April. This was better than he could have imagined. He didn't have to steal sneaky glances at her when he thought she wouldn't notice; she was actively encouraging him to look at her, to the point where she might be offended if he looked away for more than a moment. In fact, she was engaging with him; it seemed she had no end of questions to ask and stories to share and comparisons to make between their two lives. What was most surprising was that she was socializing so eagerly with someone she had never met before, and knew nothing about other than the fact that he was traveling. Dylan had always been under the impression that talking to strangers was an exercise that had to be undertaken with the utmost caution if at all, but far from being frightened, Dylan actually found April's attitude quite refreshing.
Dylan was grateful for the lemonade April had given him. It was a warm day, and, particularly with all the talking, Dylan found his throat drying out quite a bit. He took sips every few minutes while he chatted with April, but he was hardly aware of it; April herself held most of his attention. It had been a long time since Dylan had seen anyone as attractive as April, and the way she smiled and laughed and seemed to really like Dylan completely captivated him. He was actually surprised when he found that the bottle was empty. He couldn't have finished it already, could he? He would have to remember to bring his own beverage the next time he went on a long bus trip.
"I can take that," April said, holding out her hand. He handed her the empty bottle and she put it back in her backpack.
"Is it okay if I put my legs on your lap?" April asked. "I'm feeling a bit cramped."
"Sure," Dylan said once again, and she did so, stretching her legs out all the way to the wall. This was beyond belief. The most beautiful woman Dylan had seen in three years was cuddling with him after knowing him for — Dylan looked at his watch — less than half an hour.
April put her mouth close to Dylan's ear and said softly, "I really like you."
Was she a prostitute? "You'd better watch it," Dylan said, "or I'm going to think you're a werewolf."
April leaned back and laughed, then told Dylan a story about one of April's college classmates who had called April a werewolf. Dylan did not find this entirely reassuring, but eventually he decided that he could call for help if April attacked him. And if she picked his pocket he would have plenty of time to find her before the driver let her off the bus. He decided he would enjoy the situation while it lasted and worry later about any ulterior motives April might have.
April started moving her legs in Dylan's lap. When she was done with her story, she kissed Dylan on the cheek and asked, "Am I scaring you?"
"A little bit," Dylan admitted.
"Do you want me to sit somewhere else?"
She didn't seem offended; she was still smiling pleasantly. Dylan was sure that he could have politely asked her to move and she would have done so without fuss. But the idea of her leaving almost made Dylan start crying. He suddenly no longer cared if she picked both his pockets and then stole his backpack for good measure. Nothing he had with him was worth more than the experience he was having right now.
"No, stay," he said fervently.
"Thanks," April said, smiling even more widely, and she put her arm over Dylan's shoulders. "Tell me about the last party you went to," she said.
Dylan did so, and April continued to move her legs around, occasionally going so far as to rub Dylan's penis with her thigh through his pants. When he was done with his story, April squeezed his shoulders with her arm, kissed him again, and then told a story of her own.
Dylan never wanted this bus ride to end.
When she was done with her story, April said, "I'm not a werewolf. But I did play a trick on you. I put something special in your lemonade. In a few seconds you're really going to wish you were sitting in an aisle seat." She smirked.
