Eight

“Ew!

You smell!”

My eyes widen.

Are they talking about me?

“Sit down, kids.

We need to be getting to school,” the bus driver snipped.

I sit down in the seat directly behind the driver.

The whole ride to school, kids keep saying mean things to me.

So I keep staring at the ground.

When we finally get to school, I jump to rush off the bus.

“Can you stay a moment?

I’d like to talk to you,” the bus driver asks.

After the rest of the kids exit, some making faces or holding their noses as they pass, the driver looks at me gently and inquires, “When was the last time you took a bath?”

I look down.

“I don’t remember,” I tell her.

She looks at me with the saddest eyes.

Am I supposed to be taking them?

Mommy has never told me I needed to.

Sometimes I just get in because I’m cold.

After staring a few moments, she lets out a long sigh.

“Honey, it’s important to stay clean.

It will keep you healthy.

And it will keep all those nasty kids from poking fun at you.”

I nod at her, barely meeting her eyes.

Placing her hand on my shoulder, “Sweetie, I’m not mad at you.

But if you ask your mom to get you some soap and shampoo, I think you would feel better.”

“Can I go now?”

I leave before she even has a chance to say anything.

All day, all I think about is how much I wish I could get sick so I don’t have to ride the bus home.

And why mommy didn’t tell me I needed to take baths.

She’s the reason those kids are so mean.

The end of the day finally arrives.

I take a deep breath as I approach the bus.

I climb on and rush to the back.

I don’t talk to anyone.