She often asked herself how she got where she was. How did a 20 year old college drop out wind up on a Grey hound headed to no where? But as all of her thoughts ran constantly through her head, Sierra Carlson was being taken through the state of Kentucky at 60 miles an hour on a bus filled with strangers. Looking out the window she could see gas stations scattered scarcely down the highway with a plantation home passed somewhere in between. The gold setting sun gave light to her soft colored features. Her green eyes seemed to glow with the suns rays as her dark auburn hair glowed like fiery whipping curls rolling down her shoulders and chest. She always hated her hair, but as she got older everyone told her that the naturally loose curls and waves were beautiful. All it reminded her of were those days in middle school where she was teased for having a black mother and a white father. Yet age was the grace of her biracial confusion as she learned to accept herself and even embrace her double heritage. As she nonchalantly curled a strand of hair around her finger she sighed and continued to look out the window. She knew nothing awaited her once she got off this bus, but she wasn't completely sure if she was running to or from something to begin with. As she gazed at the hills passing by, all she could do was wait for what was to come.
Pulling her black hi-top converse shoes off she put them in the seat next to her with the rest of her belongings. Taking off her black zip hoodie she laid it over her generic Jansport backpack and tugged at the wrinkles of her AC/DC black sleeved baseball shirt. Drawing her pink sock clad feet in closer to her on the seat, she reached into her pack for an i-pod wrapped in pink ear-buds and a small red leather bound book with a floral design impressed into the cover. Gathering all that she needed and getting comfortable, she sat back against the window and softly picked at the knee rips in her jeans before plugging her ear-buds in and opening the book. The guitar chords of "Hallelujah" by Paramore rang softly in her ears as she zoned out into herself. She closed her eyes to say a prayer and bowed her head.
"Psst! Um, hey would you happen to have any-- oh sorry." said a Kentucky accented voice from the seat behind her.
Realizing that she didn't hear a word he said, James Carter Smith silently sat back in his seat and mentally face-palmed himself for picking the wrong moment of approach. At 23, he was used to traveling alone, yet being a ladies' man, he found it hard not to talk to a beautiful girl when he saw one. On his flight back from Germany he managed to spill Pepsi in the lap of a brunette dance major student from LA, he accidentally slapped the chest of a blonde he had a conversation with on a rocky bus ride through San Francisco, and a personal favorite, he managed to get the number of a french exchange student who was very well endowed while exiting a flight back to Kentucky, yet proceeded to incapacitate her with luggage from the over head compartment.
Pulling her black hi-top converse shoes off she put them in the seat next to her with the rest of her belongings. Taking off her black zip hoodie she laid it over her generic Jansport backpack and tugged at the wrinkles of her AC/DC black sleeved baseball shirt. Drawing her pink sock clad feet in closer to her on the seat, she reached into her pack for an i-pod wrapped in pink ear-buds and a small red leather bound book with a floral design impressed into the cover. Gathering all that she needed and getting comfortable, she sat back against the window and softly picked at the knee rips in her jeans before plugging her ear-buds in and opening the book. The guitar chords of "Hallelujah" by Paramore rang softly in her ears as she zoned out into herself. She closed her eyes to say a prayer and bowed her head.
"Psst! Um, hey would you happen to have any-- oh sorry." said a Kentucky accented voice from the seat behind her.
Realizing that she didn't hear a word he said, James Carter Smith silently sat back in his seat and mentally face-palmed himself for picking the wrong moment of approach. At 23, he was used to traveling alone, yet being a ladies' man, he found it hard not to talk to a beautiful girl when he saw one. On his flight back from Germany he managed to spill Pepsi in the lap of a brunette dance major student from LA, he accidentally slapped the chest of a blonde he had a conversation with on a rocky bus ride through San Francisco, and a personal favorite, he managed to get the number of a french exchange student who was very well endowed while exiting a flight back to Kentucky, yet proceeded to incapacitate her with luggage from the over head compartment.
