Simon Barker

So what if he was predictable?

So what if his family called him Stable Simon?

Wasn't it good to be stable?

The type of person others could always rely on?

Sure, his life wasn't nearly as exciting as his traveling photographer brothers or his family-oriented sisters, but he was happy.

He liked his life, and he didn't need a bus ride to prove anything to anybody.

He was on his feet before he'd even realized he'd moved.

It couldn't have been more than 10 minutes since he first sat down, but he was done with this bus.

A ding signaled the next stop, and the driver spoke with a deep, calm voice.

"'Nowhere is your next stop.

Your next stop is absolutely nowhere.'"

Certain he had misheard, Simon wound his way to the front, ready to leave this ridiculous experiment behind.

But a commotion from near his seat turned his attention back just as the doors opened.

The teenagers stood now, yelling at each other.

One brought his hands up, jabbing the other in the chest.

Simon worked with teenagers.

He knew how quickly this could get ugly.

Boys, he shouted, shoving a backpack out of the way as it returned to the back.

The bus suddenly jerked, sending Simon face first into the aisle.

He groaned as his knee struck the floor, but thankfully, he saved his face with his hands.