It didn't seem possible, but the bus was at least 10 degrees colder than the outside that morning. I dropped down into one of the dingy gray seats and zipped up my coat. My exhausted sigh spread from my lips in a foggy cloud that echoed my feelings about the day. Snow stuck onto the trees, transforming my mundane neighborhood into something a little more imaginative. I smiled. Maybe today wouldn't be too bad. My eyes panned over the over the road as the bus pulled away from my stop, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Blake running towards us, the driver unaware he was there.

“Stop!” I yelled. He shouldn't have to walk back home in this cold to get a ride. The bus jerked to standstill, and pairs of eyes stared at me in confusion. The driver glared at me, and I pointed to the door just as Blake tapped on it. The door opened, and he stepped on, shivering. He made his way up the aisle and sat down in the seat next to mine and stared calmly out the window as the bus pulled away. Though he had just sprinted a good quarter mile, he wasn't at all out of breath. That wasn't surprising, though, because he ran home everyday from the bus stop just as quickly. I made a mental note to ask him why, if we ever had a conversation. He was the quiet type. This morning, I would let him be.

That afternoon, the bus was a little more crowded than usual. Blake was the last one to get on the bus, and he looked at all the seats, the eyes hidden behind his glasses getting a little more frantic. I already helped him once today, why not again?

“Blake? You can sit with me.” I said, smiling slightly. He sat down next to me. A second later, he glanced at me and grinned a little lopsidedly.

“Thanks for letting me sit with you. Usually people just give me dirty looks as I pass by” he said.

“No problem. I'm glad I could help you out today.” I said with a proud feeling pooling in my mind. I sat up a little straighter. He seemed a little confused.

“What do you mean?” he questioned.

“I told the bus driver to stop this morning, when you were running. You run enough, anyway.” I told him, very nonchalantly. His smile dropped immediately. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just didn't think anyone noticed. I barely even notice anymore.” He said, each word sounding a little more toxic than the last.

“Sorry. I didn't know that was a sensitive topic. I won't bring it up if you don't want me too.” I said with as much sympathy as I could muster.

“No, it's fine, it's just not something I take about much because no one really seems to care.” He wasn't looking at me anymore. My mind was spinning.

“Are you okay? What are you talking about?” I asked. I didn't see how something as simple as running could mean something significant.

“Well... um... I have some issues at home, I guess you could say.” He was barely audible. “My sister.”

“Is she sick or something?” I was finally putting together the puzzle pieces.

“Sick in the mind, I guess. Sometimes she acts a bit irrationally when she's alone, so I go back to make sure she's safe.” He spoke with the kind of restrain of a person who never talked about themselves, ever. I felt a little bit bad for him.

“That's really cool, actually. Does she have issues with homework? Or just being alone?” I asked. Maybe if he talked to someone about this, it would make it less painful.

“She, uh, has been to the hospital a few times.” He said, breaking the sentence up as if the words were lost in the back of his mind.

“For what? If it's okay that I ask.” Sometimes its hard to know when to stop talking, but today I felt a little bit more brave.

“Suicide attempts.” He sighed. The words escaped his mouth with a cloud, just like mine had this morning. My mouth opened, and I shook my head.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. I guess I shouldn't have asked. But what you are doing is really good. I mean, its nice to see you care so much. That's a lot of running, I could never-” I rambled, unsure of what to say. He stopped me mid-sentence.

“No, no, its fine really. Thanks for asking. You don't have to apologize. It means a lot more than you would think that someone cared enough to ask.” He said with a gentle smile. I returned it, relieved, just as the bus pulled up to our stop. He got up out of the seat and backed up, gesturing for me to go first, and he followed me off the bus.

“Bye Blake.” I said.

“Bye Marie. Thank you.” he said, then turned and ran through the white trees. Though it was below freezing, I felt warm.

We became friends, spending every chilly morning and tired afternoon talking on our commute to and from home. At the end of the day, he would wave to me behind his back, and I would watch him dash off in the opposite direction, sending him good thoughts. One day, after a few weeks, he wasn't on the bus. I didn't think anything of it; he was probably just sick. I spent the ride home in my own thoughts.

The next day he was absent, as well. Again, it went to the back of my mind. I took my time that ride to look at the scenery around my small town. It was March now, and most of the snow had melted, leaving the trees as skeletons of what they had been. It was a sad sight to see, but soon enough, they would be green again.

The day after, I was again alone. I tried to put it off as nothing, but now it felt different. Today was just a little bit colder than the one before. I tried to ignore the feeling and move on. .

The next day, Blake was finally back. I smiled at him as we got on the bus in the morning, but he didn't say anything, let alone look at me. My heart dropped to the ground. I hadn't done anything wrong, had I? I leaned back against the gray leather. Maybe he had a lot of homework, or was still sick. I decided to let him have his space.

In the afternoon, when I got on the bus, I sat in the usual seat we sat in, and waited hopefully. I saw Blake step on the bus and smiled as he got closer. He sat next to me, but didn't say anything. I kept to my decision to let him have some time for himself, but it was hard. I wanted to know what was wrong. It took the whole ride, but as we got off, I finally had the courage to say something.

“Blake?” I said softly. We stood alone in the ghostly road, the bus disappearing around the bend. The wind blew softly, lifting our hair up from our shoulders. Blake turned towards me, tears flowing down his face. He turned back the other way and very slowly started to walk back home.