We sit beside each other on the bus stop bench. Just waiting. We are always early, so worried am I that we will be late. So we wait.
Is that your sister's bus? I ask him pointing at a car as it drives past us. No! he shrieks as if I have said the funniest thing he has ever heard. Is that your sister's bus? I say about the bike heading down a cross street. No! he yells.
Dat bus? he asks me pointing to a truck coming down the road, a pleased smile on his face. No! I laugh, as if what he has said is the funniest thing I have ever heard.
We sit and wait and pretend to see the girl's bus. Until we actually do see it, and then we stand and wave. Waiting for her just a little bit longer.