Darcy Teller huddled under her small polka-dot umbrella as the rain beat down and began to fill the ditches. The umbrella and her rain-jacket kept her dry enough, but her feet were getting soaked. She wished she hadn't worn her good jogging shoes. Fortunately, she had asked for and gotten a well-made, waterproof bookbag for Christmas.

Bill and Alice, the sophomores who caught the bus at her stop waited beside her, protected by raincoats and umbrellas. "Lot of rain the last few days," Darcy said.

"Yep," said Bill. "It's not even near hurricane season."

The school bus splashed down the street as the three teens waited in Bill's driveway. Red lights flashed on the bus as the STOP sign swung out. Jones stopped the bus by the students and opened the door. Bill and Alice got on and Darcy followed.

She saw the boy, sitting in the back. He was there a few days a week. No one ever sat next to him or spoke to him. He was handsome, tall and dark-haired. His clothes were expensive, even his jeans, and he always had a small scooter with him. He moved a little stiffly sometimes, as though his back hurt. None of the girls tried to flirt with him, not even Mea Ainsley, the hot senior girl who ruled Greenfield High School. Mea acted like the boy didn't exist.

 Admit it, she said to herself, you had a bit of crush on him since you saw him the first day of school. Spring break begins Monday, and three months till you graduate, and you won't ride the bus again. "Hello, Mr. Jones," Darcy said to the driver. "Who is that dark-haired boy who's sitting in the back when we get on?"

Mr. Jones didn't take his eyes off the road. "You three are my first passengers." He shut the door, yanked the stop sign against the bus, and turned off the red blinkers. He shifted the bus into gear. "Sit down. Rain's slowing traffic and I got another route after this one."

I can see him, she thought, but shrugged and walked past Bill and Alice to the rear. She took the aisle seat across from him instead of her usual seat near the front. I'll say something to him today, even just 'Hi.'

A few stops later the bus was almost full. The Ainsley sisters got on and walked to the rear. Mea Ainsley, who never spoke to Darcy without looking like her mouth was full of lemon, said, "Give us your seat. We want to talk with Don and Jerry." Don and Jerry Norton, football players and Student Council representatives, sat in the seats ahead of her. They never spoke to her unless it was voting time for Student Council.

Darcy moved into the seat next to the strange boy. He ignored her, to her frustration, and kept looking out the window. He opened an old, battered book, and read a page. Lightning flashed, and thunder crashed, and the rain pounded harder.

Darcy determined to remain seated when the bus pulled up to Green Valley High School until the boy said, "Excuse me," or "Pardon," or something. He can't just climb over me, can he? She wondered.

She considered what she could see of him. Tall, lean, muscular, straight black hair, fair-skinned, blue hoodie unzipped, and green eyes. He walked with a quick, agile stride, and she'd seen him taking the steps two at a time at school. She had never seen him playing basketball or wrestling or any sport, for that matter. What do you do when you're not on the bus? She asked herself.

A few blocks later the bus stopped at an intersection in a low area where the rain had flooded. A police officer was holding traffic back.

"We'll be late," said Darcy, but the boy ignored her.

The bus rumbled as it waited for permission to cross the intersection. It looked like they'd have to take a detour. The cop was trying to get cars turned around even now and it was slow going.

The green-eyed boy sighed and looked to the front of the bus. Darcy saw a clean, rugged profile, broad forehead, straight nose, full lips and strong chin. He had a worn bookbag and the scooter he always brought was folded up and resting on the floor. He turned back to the window and placed a forefinger on a raindrop that was dribbling slowly down. He slid his finger up, up, and flicked it.

Darcy blinked. For a moment she thought she saw the raindrop slide up with the boy's finger and flip off the window. She must have been imagining it. The window had so many drops sliding down she must have gotten confused.

The rain slackened to a light shower, and the flooded intersection began to drain. A bit of sunlight poked through the clouds. The cop waved cars through and at last the bus roared through the intersection. The roads were passable, and the bus pulled up to the stop in front of the school nearly on time.

The kids gathered their books and coats, umbrellas and lunch bags and lined up to get off. Darcy waited till the aisle cleared before turning to the boy. She nerved herself to speak and said, "Hey, the sun came out and we got here on time. Despite the rain and the flood."

The boy turned slowly and glared at her, face darkening, furious and, she realized, a little frightened. "You shouldn't be able to see me," he hissed. He grabbed his belongings and shoved past her, pushing her aside to stride up the aisle. She stood up, and stared at him, open-mouthed. At the door he looked at her, mimicked her open-mouth gaze, and rushed down the steps.

Darcy grabbed her book bag and saw his tattered book on the seat. She shoved it in her pack and hurried off the bus. He was leaping up the front steps two at a time. Irritated, she raced after him, panting, and caught up with him at the open door. "Of course, I can see you," she said. "You're not invisible." She pushed past him and through the door.

"Did SHE send you? DID SHE?"