“Your breakfast will be ready in a minute, Boo Boo.” My mom calls out from the kitchen.
I snicker and my sister rolls her eyes at my mom’s use of her nickname. When she was little, my sister hurt herself a lot playing outside and every time she got hurt she’d come running home asking our mom to kiss her boo boo. Eventually, we all just started calling her Boo Boo, and the name stuck.
With a definite whine in her voice, my sister says, “Mom, I can’t stay for breakfast. Stacy Patel’s mom is picking me up. We have to practice our routine before tryouts this week.”
I shake my head at the breaks my little sister gets. Not only does she go to a private school, but she has the free time to try out for cheerleading. Sure, she’s on an academic scholarship, but it still irks me. I had to attend twelve years of public school and suffer through some of the worst teachers imaginable. I remember, in elementary school, one teacher completely forgot to teach us the science curriculum and then at the end of the year he gave everyone Fs in the subject on our report cards. I was one pissed off fifth grader that year.
A horn honks outside and my sister runs down the hall towards the front door, yelling, “There she is. I have to go. I love you, Mom. Bye!” The sound of our front door slams a moment after she finishes yelling.
My mom is holding a plate of food in her hands. She sighs dramatically and offers it to me.
Woo Hoo! Seconds!
I mean, I graciously accept the food. No use wasting after all. By the time I’ve finished my second plate of delicious chilaquiles, my mom has already cleaned up the kitchen and has her purse in hand. “Anthony, I’m leaving now. Come kiss your mom goodbye.” I only hesitate for a moment. I feel silly giving my mom a goodbye kiss at my age, but one look from her and I’m up out of my chair giving her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. She gives me a big kiss back, undoubtedly leaving red lipstick on my cheek, and she’s out the door for the first of her two jobs. During the day, Mom works as a maid at a local hotel chain and a factory on an assembly line at night.
I shake my head at my mom’s fortitude. I don’t know how she has the energy after two shifts to still get up in the morning and take care of her kids. I’d likely still be in a sleep coma if I worked as much as she did.
Catching a glimpse of the time from the clock on the wall, I hurry to wash and dry my dishes. Then I take a quick shower, get dressed in blue jeans and a faded Star Wars Episode X shirt. Then I am out the door with my backpack.
Chapter 2
It’s a little chilly this morning as I jog to the bus stop. I’m breathing hard by the time I get there, just in time to see the bus I need drive away. I groan as I wave my arms in the air, hoping that the bus will magically stop, yet knowing it’s a futile gesture. The buses, and most transportation for that matter, went fully autonomous years ago. So, there’s no driver on that bus to make it stop for me. I guess I’ll just have to wait for the next one.
Pulling out my smartphone from my jeans, I look up the time for the next bus going to the college. Darn it! It’s going to be twenty minutes. Not wanting to waste my battery, I put the phone back into my pocket. I take a seat on the cold concrete bench next to the bus stop and take off my backpack. I place it on the ground between my feet and take out my shiny new school binder. For some reason, even after all the years of mandatory school, it’s still exciting to get these new school supplies each year. Flipping opened the binder, I check out my class schedule. Yup, just like I thought. I’m going to be late for my 8 am Anthropology class. Well, from what I read online, it’s not that hard of a course. At least I’ll be on time for my Math class at 10 am.
The binder and schedule go back into the backpack and I try not to fidget while I wait for the next bus. The concrete bench is uncomfortable, but I’m used to it; I’ve taken the bus since I was a little kid. Our family could never afford a car. Yeah, I know I could order a ride from an automatic car company like Johnny Cab, but those mannequins they put in the driver's seat are creepy. I think the company stole their name from some old sci-fi movie. Besides, money has always been tight in our family and the automated bus is a lot cheaper.
As I watch the steady stream of automated electric cars and buses flow quietly by on the street in front of me, an unusual sound catches my attention. I look around and see someone driving a car. Not just any car— it’s the Luxemburg 379, one of the world’s fastest combustion engine vehicles. Well, to be honest, it’s one of the only combustion engine vehicles left. Most companies went electric years ago after Elon Musk figured out an efficient means of capturing solar energy and storing it safely in batteries. The only people that even make combustion engines anymore are small high-end auto manufacturers like Luxemburg. Their cars are insanely expensive and the insurance premiums to drive these days are astronomical.
I can’t help but laugh at the guy behind the wheel of the flashy yellow sports car. He has long blond hair and expensive looking sunglasses on. Unfortunately for him, he’s stuck at a light behind a group of autonomous vehicles that only go thirty miles per hour while in the city. He looks so pissed that he can’t just zoom around them in his fancy car. He takes a sip of his drink then grimaces. Looking around for a place to dump his drink, he sees me looking at him and laughing. I quickly avert my gaze, but it’s too late. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something flying through the air towards me. I try to move out of the way, but a full cup of some luxury coffee drink crashes right onto the sidewalk in front of me, splashing me with a dark, sticky liquid. All of my clothes and backpack are covered in the milky brown coffee. I look up to glare at the guy in the yellow sports car only to see him speeding away, laughing, as traffic finally moves forward.
I mutter to myself about stupid rich people who have no respect for others. Still, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have enough money to buy one of those cars. Instead of having to take the bus, I could cruise around town in my car. I could quit my part-time job and move my mom and sister into a nicer neighborhood. I could finally get my own place too. Maybe a condo by a beach somewhere? I would set up a college fund for my sister so she wouldn’t have to take out student loans like I have to.
My daydreaming is interrupted by the sound of giggles. Blinking, I remember where I am. Glancing to my left, I see two teenage girls giggling and pointing at the brown mess that’s covering my clothes and backpack. I smiled weakly at them and take a bottle of water I have in my backpack and try to wash off the worst of the mess from my bag and clothing. Most of it comes off, but now it looks like I wet my pants. Oh, well, it’s better than looking like I had the runs and couldn’t make it to the restroom.
By the time the bus I need arrives, I’ve dried off a little and get on. As I take my seat, I wondering what the Anthropology professor is going to say when I walk in late.
Chapter 3
Even though I washed most of the drink off, I still smell like coffee, and no one wants to sit next to me on the bus. Which is fine since that means I can stretch out a little during the bus ride for once.
An hour later, the bus stops right in front of the college where I and several other students get off. The information I looked up online when I applied said that the college campus is massive. More than 250 buildings spread over 1,400 acres, and a student population of over 30,000 people. Those figures were impressive when I read them, but they don’t compare to seeing the place first hand. I join the stream of people heading towards the center of campus, and I can’t help but be impressed by the tall eight and nine-story buildings around me.