• Trent walked on in utter silence, thinking over his relationship with Ana and how much it had slipped when she moved in. The squeaking tires of a bus alerted him that it was leaving the station.

    “No! Wait!” Trent cried and lurched into a clumsy run. When the bus did not stop, he huffed in frustration and watched it speed into the distance.

    WHAM!

    Trent staggered on his feet, and then eventually tumbled to the ground. When he opened his eyes, there was a girl staring down at him with green eyes big as saucers and the color of fresh clover.

    “I’m so sorry! Here, let me help you up.” The girl stumbled over her words as she stood and pulled him to his feet easily even though she was half his height. Her red-golden hair hung in ringlets down past her waist, even thought it was pulled into an interesting half-bun hairstyle. She was wearing a dark sweatshirt over a short blue sundress; the outfit seemed odd for the freezing weather. She wore no shoes, but her feet looked cleaner than they would have with any binding.

    “Did the bus already leave? My, I’m so sorry for knocking you over. I wasn’t paying much attention. Do you know when the next bus comes?” The girl muttered, hoping he would catch every question she tossed in his direction. When she looked back up to his face, Trent was staring with his eyebrows bunched together.

    “I have no idea what you’re saying.” Trent said, and a small grin broke on his face. “The bus just left. I don’t know why it didn’t stop when I called it.” Trent grumbled and looked off in the direction the bus had disappeared.

    “Damn. Sorry again, mister… Uh…” She held out her hand hesitantly, and Trent shook her hand carefully, surprised at her sudden change in language.

    “Trent. Trent Bryan.”

    “I’m August. August Trilffe. Very nice to meet you.” She added with a grin, and then looked decisively after the non-existent bus.

    “Do you have a ride, Mr. Bryan?” August asked innocently without looking back at him.

    “Not any besides the bus.” Trent admitted, but stopped himself from saying anything else. Why was he giving his information out to a little girl?

    “That’s too bad. I need to be somewhere too. Guess we can wait for the next bus together, right, Mr. Bryan?”

    Trent stared down at the small girl as she watched down the long, black street.

    “I… suppose so.” Trent stuttered and followed her line of sight. Just pulling up the asphalt was an identical bus to the one that had just left; this didn’t surprise Trent, as all the buses looked exactly alike. But what did surprise him was that it had come so early. The next bus didn’t come for another half an hour.

    “How did—“ Trent started, but August looked up at him with renewed excitement.

    “How far are you riding, Mr. Bryan?” She asked eagerly, green eyes sparkling in the new sunlight.

    “Just halfway.” Trent replied, and then clamped his mouth shut. There he went again, giving this strange girl information she didn’t need to know.

    “That’s to the other end of town. Where do you work?”

    “I’m an author.” Damn, there you go again, Trent. Cut it out. Trent thought as August smiled brightly and waited patiently for the bus to come to a stop. She stepped ahead of him when the doors open, but wasn’t impolite about it. Her quick movements were slight and graceful despite her young frame. Trent couldn’t help but watch in admiration.

    “Sir, are you boarding the bus today?” The driver asked impatiently, and Trent snapped out of his reverie. He stumbled onto the bus just as ungracefully as August was poised and elegant, and then found her easily in the next to back seat of the long bus. He sat on the very last bench and leaned over the back of August’s, resting his chin on his folded arms.

    “So you’re an author, eh? That’s very nice.” August said pleasantly and turned her back to the large window to watch him with curiosity.

    “Haven’t sold many books lately.” Trent admitted, then cursed himself in his head: Stop telling her all about your life. She’s about ten years old; she doesn’t need to know anything about it!
    August’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Why’s that, Mr. Bryan? I’m sure you’re amazing at what you do.”

    “Huh, amazing? Apparently not.” Trent murmured half to himself. August distracted herself by playing with the ends of her long hair, not daring to break the silence.

    “So enough about me, how ‘bout you?” Trent finally asked, and she froze, one piece of hair twirled around her pointer finger.

    “If it’s too personal, you don’t have to talk about it.” Trent added hastily at her distressed expression.

    “It’s not that…” Her voice trailed off as she lowered her arms to her lap, staring at something on the window opposite of her seat. Trent sighed quietly and smiled.

    “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He persisted, wondering what was going through her young mind.

    “You mustn’t tell anyone at all. No one at all.” She insisted, her eyes suddenly hard on his. Her little hands were balled into fists so tight the already pale skin that covered her knuckles turned paper white. A deep frown had settled on her delicate forehead, and Trent was all of a sudden uneasy.

    When he eventually nodded once, she took in a shaking breath. But before she started, her head whipped around toward the front of the bus. The single man that was riding quickly turned away when she turned her relentless stare upon him.

    “I don’t have to be anywhere at the moment. Do you mind if I just go to your work with you?” August looked up at him with earnest eyes that frightened Trent. He hadn’t seen her this upset before. Then he reminded himself that he had only known her all of five minutes, and that she had probably acted this way before in her short lifetime.

    Trent nodded his head promptly. The end of town where he worked wasn’t the highest class, and he wasn’t about to let a small girl run around unsupervised.

    “You’re a lifesaver, Mr. Bryan.” August said with relief, then unclenched her fists and returned to stare out the opposite window.

    Trent blinked slowly, running over the conversation in his mind once more. He was a lifesaver for letting him go to his work? That was the only thing she could possibly mean, of that he was almost certain.
    His gaze settled on the lone rider in the front of the bus. He had a mess of blonde hair that trailed down the back of his neck with precise disarray. His tee shirt was loose and baggy and held the color of a cloudy day; his khaki pants nearly covered his large, black skater shoes. His golden eyes almost matched his hair, and his skin had a deep tan as if he had been in the sun for weeks on end. Trent frowned at this; it was the middle of winter.

    The man turned his head briefly to the two riders in the back, but seeing Trent’s intent stare turned away as quickly as he could. Trent narrowed his eyes and watched August in silent fascination as she continued absentmindedly playing with her long curls.

    “Say, Mr. Bryan, do you know any girls?” Another random question came from August, and Trent smiled in spite of himself.

    “I have a girlfriend.” Trent said simply, and then waited for the conversation to continue. It never did. August just grinned simply and continued with the thin braid she had just begun working on.