121 Express by Monique Polak

chapter one
    I tried not to act nervous. I took a deep breath, straightened my back and stepped onto the 121 Express. Everyone says it’s hell on wheels. The principal even sent around this letter from the Transit Corporation warning that if kids on the bus don’t behave, they’ll pull the service. Then we’ll all have to walk home, which would be really bad for me since our new house is all the way in Ahuntsic. It would take me over an hour to walk home.
    The first thing I noticed when I got on the bus was the stench of sweat—and rotten eggs. I ducked when a sandwich came flying like a Frisbee and landed on the floor near my feet. When the kid behind me stepped on the sandwich, mashed-up egg salad splattered in every direction.
    I knew I didn’t have much time to pick a seat. The main thing when you’re a new kid is not to draw attention to yourself.
    It only took me a few seconds to figure out how the seating worked. The cool guys— the soccer jocks and the troublemakers—sat at the back. There were a few girls there too. One had changed out of her school kilt into skintight jeans.
    The nerds sat up front. They were easy to spot, because they stared at the floor, hoping nobody would pick on them. There was also a higher percentage of kids with glasses in the nerd section. One had a textbook propped open on his lap, but I knew he was just pretending to read. Who could read with all that noise—and sandwiches flying through the air?
    â€œYou big loser!” some guy at the back hollered out the window. “What? You didn’t hear me? I said you’re a big loser!”
    The girl in the jeans slapped the guy sitting next to her. “Don’t you touch me!” she said, but then she started laughing.
    I shook my backpack off my shoulders and grabbed a spot near the middle of the bus, next to a redheaded girl. For now, I figured, the middle of the bus was about where I belonged.
    But I was planning to change that. I hadn’t exactly been popular at my old school.
    This was my new beginning—my second chance. I was going to get in with the cool guys—no matter what. It was just a matter of making my personal life my top priority.
    The redheaded girl’s Mp3 player had a peace sticker on it. She moved closer to the window when I sat down.
    I wasn’t going to stare at the floor like one of the nerds. So I stuffed my backpack under my seat and looked around—as discreetly as possible. One of the nerds,Sandeep Singh—I knew his name because he was in my English class—took a break from staring at the floor to adjust his black turban. When he saw me looking at him, he nodded.
    I looked away. The last thing a new guy needs is a nerdy friend.
    I turned around when I heard this loud peal of laughter coming from the back of the bus. It was Miss Tight Jeans. “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me, Georgie?”
    â€œHow many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?” the troublemakers called out, in high-pitched imitations of her voice.
    â€œI don’t sound like that!” she shrieked.
    â€œOh, yes you do, Kelly! That’s exactly what you sound like. ‘How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?’” Georgie said. He had dark eyes and dark hair. I spotted a small Greek flag on the arm of his jean jacket.
    Up front, more kids shuffled onto the bus. Soon there’d be only standing room.
    Two nerdy girls elbowed each otherwhen this guy I recognized from math got on. “Look, it’s Jake,” I heard one of the girls whisper. “Doesn’t he look just like Zac Efron?”
    â€œI forgot my pass,” Jake muttered to the driver.
    The driver ran his fingers through his thin silver hair. “I can’t let you on. Rules are rules.” He sounded like he’d had a rough day.
    â€œNot even this once?”
    When the driver shook his head, Jake shrugged. But before he