.:‡:.
9 (waiting for a late bus) + 40 (“hand me that…”)
Typically, Kasper is punctual and hasn’t missed her ride home in decades, but today is the day to end her streak. She hurries only to be out of breath and tired. It isn’t her best day. Walking back to the stop in a sour mood, at least one thing didn’t turn out so bad—the bus stop was empty except for one or two people and there was a seat available. Settling in and leaning against the glass, Kasper lets out a sigh of defeat. There was only one other person at the stop, a guy, and she tries her best not to bother him. The last time she tried to initiate a conversation with someone didn’t end so well, so she knows how to keep quiet now.
But the silence isn’t endearing and she’s just about to lose her mind. Kasper’s phone had died before her work shift even ended, so she’s stuck with staring at the infinite abyss of cars and roads and blinking lights. She has nothing to do, so she fishes into her bag, looking for something, something to occupy her mind with. Kasper doesn’t pay attention when her out of battery phone is flung to the other side of the wall and down the floor. Crap.
Kasper is too far away to get it and it’s stuck in the crook of the stop. There was no way to get it except pleading for help. “Excuse me,” she says to the person next to her. “Can you hand me that phone?” She silently hopes he does and doesn’t lash out on her or something like that, because she was never really good at dealing with people. But luckily, he does and her phone isn’t too scratched up. Kasper thanks him, shoving her phone back into her messenger bag. “I owe you one, Mr. Random Guy.” Her smile is crooked and her tone might sound silly, but she’s sincere and if they ever met again, she’d say it again. The bus shows up a few minutes later and Kasper is in a surprisingly good mood.