“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” I crossed the street and sat in the bus shelter next to an old man who smoked a smelly cigarette. We waited in silence for our ride.
Not a minute later, Ry pulled up in front of the bus stop and parked, his emergency flashers on. That did not endear him to motorists, who beeped their horns at him and hurled invectives when they had to go around his vehicle.
“What the f**k are you doing?” I yelled at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw ashes fall to the ground from my companion’s cigarette.
“Offering you a ride, dumbass. Get in the f*****g car.”
“No.” And then I saw a bus in the distance. This could get ugly.
“There’s a bus coming. A cop could show up at any moment. Get in the damn car, Georgie. Right now.”
With the bus bearing down upon
