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It was always quiet on the last bus of the night.
Well, not always— sometimes Crystal’s lonely journey was joined by rowdy partygoers or someone looking to get off of the street for a while. Sometimes it was a nurse fresh off a shift change, too exhausted to be excited about going home. Sometimes it was her sister’s girlfriend Bosco making her way home after a show, stopping to chat or collapsing in a chair (depending on the day). And sometimes, just sometimes, it was Gigi.
“Crystal!”
Today is one of those days.
“Hi, Gigi. Good show today?”
Gigi nods, swiping her card. “Mhm. Went good, made a few bucks.” She swiped the hair framing her face backwards with an elegant flick, one that would’ve seemed a little too pretty-model performative if it wasn’t just so natural.
Not that being pretty-model performative wasn’t natural to her—she’d been performing at a club downtown since Crystal had first met her. Her work schedule meant that she’d never made it out to a performance, for better or for worse, but she did always get to see her on the way home.
“See anything fun tonight?” Gigi asked a similar question every time. She gave herself time to think as she raised the bus up from kneeling, the hiss filling the space as Gigi grabbed the bar closest to her.
She didn’t even pretend to go sit down anymore, not like she did when they first started talking. There was a thrill down her spine at the realization, at knowing that Gigi would stand just centimeters behind the yellow line and hold the bar so they could chat.
“I saw a guy eat a rose right off the stem?”
“Aww, cute!” Gigi says brightly.
Not the word she’d use to describe that, but sure. Cute. She wishes for a moment that she could be sitting across from her, watching her as she talks and admiring her smile without having to glance through her rearview mirror.
She laughs. “Cute.” She takes a corner a bit sharper than she’d like, and pauses only to grimace when she hears Gigi have to adjust her stance because of it. “Is your type guys who eat flowers? If so, you should really meet my cat. She’s a girl, but she’d be perfect for you.”
The way she perks up is almost audible. “Ooh! You have a cat?”
She nods, “Yeah! She’s my perfect girl, her name is Tic Tac.”
“Can I see a picture?”
“She’s my lockscreen, maybe I could show you when I drop you off. If there’s no one behind me, at least?” A glance in the mirror shows Gigi’s smile more than anything else—or maybe it’s just all she can see.
“Can I bring her flowers? What kind of flowers does she like?”
The questions are rolling off her tongue almost faster than Crystal can keep up, an obvious joy at finding out a new thing about her that makes her feel warm. It’s a break in the holier-than-thou attitude Crystal has come to expect from some of these pretty, perfect types—Gigi’s simply never been that way, and it almost makes her feel bad for the assumption she’d made the first time she’d gotten on her bus.
“Well, she’s a pampered girl and she’d be so excited if she knew she’d be getting them. So I think you have to now?” It’s a good reminder that she really should get some fresh catnip for Tic Tac—she’ll make a note to grab some at the store next time she goes.
“Okay,” Gigi nods seriously, but there’s a grin on her face. “And what does the good lady like?”
“She likes a lot of them, but I make sure I only get plants that are non-toxic to cats. She has a planter for catnip that I should really refill, though—thanks for the reminder, honestly.”
Gigi’s stop is fast approaching now, so she checks and rechecks that no cars are behind her—it’s clear, which makes sense given the late hour—and pulls aside, waiting until she’s come to a complete stop to grab her phone and uncovers Tic Tac on her lockscreen by swiping away a few notifications.
“Here she is! Her and her orchids.” Crystal says, turning the screen towards Gigi. She’s come up to stand next to her, only blocked by a thin pane of plexiglass. Not for the first time, she wishes that it wasn’t there.
“She’s beautiful, ” Gigi coos, stepping closer. If she had the time, she’d open her phone to show more. Or maybe she’d ask Gigi about her pets, if she had any. Or she’d talk about other things, any other things, as long as it meant her favorite time of night wasn’t over so soon.
But she had to keep moving, so she turns her screen off and tucks her phone away again. “I was kidding about getting her flowers. You don’t have to do that.” Gigi probably knows that it was a joke, but she needs to say it again, just for peace of mind.
“You said it, I have to now. I can’t let Queen Tic Tac down!” Gigi smiles, and it’s just as pretty as it always is. She turns to leave, only to turn around again when she steps off the bus.
“Crystal?” She asks, and there’s a bright grin on her face that makes Crystal feel warm.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know my type, really, but if I get you some flowers I would know if my type is the type of girl who eats them, too.”
The doors close, operating on Crystal’s muscle memory as she blinks, trying to follow what Gigi meant by—
Oh.
Wait!
But it’s too late. She’s driving, and the car behind her makes stopping impossible, so she has to watch in the rearview mirror as Gigi’s retreating form grows smaller and smaller in the distance.
It’s Thursday.
Gigi works on Thursday nights. This usually makes them one of the best days of the week, along with it being almost-weekend and Crystal’s general attitude towards Thursdays (positive), but this week is different.
Not bad, not at all! Just. Different.
“How are ya?” Bosco asks as she steps gracefully on the bus. It’s nice to see her regularly, and working the stop outside the place where Bosco does burlesque was an intentional choice. She likes to know that she got home safe.
“Do you think Gigi is flirting with me? Should I flirt with her?”
Bosco would know. Bosco would tell her.
“Ah. So the usual, then.”
Ugh, this is why you can’t be friends-slash-future-sister-in-laws with anyone these days. “Fuck off, Bosco. I don’t like you anymore.”
Bosco leaves her, going to a seat towards the back. “Love you too!” she calls, because she’s mean.
That leaves her exactly where she was a few seconds ago. What could she say to Gigi to make her seem cool and interested and just the right amount of very single? Gigi, who comes on the bus at 12:13am three nights a week and keeps her company, chatting about her day and about her life and about her aspirations? Gigi, who was an actual, genuine model, not to mention how inconceivable hot she was? Gigi, who made her laugh and told her about how she fell and skinned her knee the first time she wore high heels but told everyone it was from playing soccer (and then mentioned that she didn’t ever play soccer).
But Gigi was interested in her at least a little, apparently, so she had to think of something. That’s what she’s been telling herself for the last two days, at the very least, but here she is with just one loop left until Gigi would get on the bus with her mind just as empty of suave, cool things to say as it was when she got off the bus.
And if she actually brought her flowers? She wouldn’t know what to do. Not that she thought she would, but she had a look that almost seemed like she was thinking about it. Either way, she only has approximately 32 minutes to figure something out.
“Crystal!”
Or not.
“Hey Gigi!” she greets, “You’re early, what—”
Oh my god.
Bright, cheery plants block her view of Gigi—orchids and cat grass and catnip in little containers, precariously balanced to display them and keep hold of her bag at the same time.
“I hope she likes it. Them. I got her cat grass too because it looked fun?”
A laugh bubbles out of her before she can stop it. “She’ll love them. You really didn’t have to,” she starts, but Gigi doesn’t let her finish.
“It’s the least I can do for the world's most gorgeous cat.” Gigi says it with enough conviction the Crystal almost doesn’t see her perform an impressive save of the falling carton of cat grass. Or the triumphant smile that comes afterwards.
The fact that Gigi even considered buying orchids, a not inexpensive flower, for her bus driver’s cat that she’s never met is… somehow not surprising, based on her vibe. Gigi just carried herself like someone who just went out and did things. She knew she had some experience in the fashion world, from the discussions they’d had in the past, and she’s a performer—not to mention her being absolutely gorgeous.
But then she actually did it.
“I’m sure you’ll be her favorite person in the world for this, you know.” There’s something that tells her that Tic Tac would love Gigi, anyway—if she could tell Tic Tac that these were from her, Gigi would surely gain yet another admirer. Is it wrong to fight your cat for the attention of a pretty girl?
She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the fantasy. They were friends, maybe, hopefully, but how could Gigi ever meet Tic Tac? Gigi was a passenger, and she was just a friendly bus driver she talked to a few times a week.
(But yet she can’t get the echo of “If I get you some flowers, I would know if my type is the type of girl who eats them, too,” out of her mind.)
Gigi, to her credit, just beams.
The rest of the ride is relatively uneventful, but the little break from routine is nagging at the back of her mind the whole time. They have an audience today, Bosco and two of the regulars who sit in the back, and even though it isn’t uncommon for someone else to be on the bus at the same time as Gigi… it feels different today. Not to mention that there’s a seat full of flowers to show for it (naturally, because Gigi’s taken her normal spot standing just a few steps behind her).
Why did she come early? And, now that she’s looking, Gigi isn’t wearing her usual open button-up shirt and shorts either. Her usual bag is missing. Did she even come from work?
She’s almost to her stop. If she doesn’t say anything to Gigi now, she’s lost her chance, because how could she even begin to bring this up in the future? It has to be today, and it has to be now.
“Hey, uh—”, Crystal starts, but Gigi’s not even a second behind her.
“Crystal, I—”
They both laugh, and a glance in the rearview mirror shows Gigi doing a little wave, “You go first.”
“Did you? Go to work today…?” It’s clumsy and a little awkward, but she wants to know. Maybe even has to know, if the gut feeling she has is to be believed.
Gigi hums. “No,” she says easily, “I wanted to visit you. And give you these.” Crystal doesn’t look, but she knows she’s gesturing to the flowers. “And my friend dropped me off at work so I could ride the bus with you but we got the time wrong because I wouldn’t stop talking about yo—it. Them. The flowers.”
“Oh.” It takes a second to sink in, to register. Gigi was talking to her friends about her . She went out of her way to do our normal routine, even when she could’ve just gotten on the bus at the stop she was usually dropped off. “Well. I would happily eat a flower. If that would help you figure out your type.”
Her heart is beating out of her chest. She’s spelled it out, the giddy giggles and long glances and wide grins that make up her debilitating crush on Gigi is out there, out in the open, waiting for Gigi to say something.
“I wanna take you out, if you wanna?” It’s asked slowly, but there's confidence in the question, too.
“Yes! Yeah. I’d really like that.”
A particularly pointed cheer echoes through a phone’s speakers from the back of the bus, bringing her back to the present. She doesn't even have to look to know that Bosco is on the phone and relaying everything to Daya (once again: she’s the worst, and as such she is perfect for Daya). It slams her back into the present, the routine of driving and stopping at the stops and checking on her passengers having become second-nature enough to be mindless.
“Cool! Cool.” Crystal’s nodding a bit too much, but it’s all she can do to not stand up and scream right now so it’s fine. “I can text you? When I get off work.”
“And send me a picture of Tic Tac with her flowers?”
“And that, of course.”
She’s glad she’d gotten Gigi’s number to make sure she got home safely after she got on the bus drunk. That was months ago, and they hadn’t texted much since (what could Crystal have even said?) but now it’s coming in handy.
She pulls over to Gigi’s stop, and for the first time she’s almost glad that Gigi’s getting off the bus, if only so she doesn’t have to keep trying to hide how giddy she is. “I’ll text you later, promise.”
Gigi’s at her side now, with pink cheeks and a bright smile. “I made a sign so nobody touches your flowers.”
“I’ll tell Tic Tac you got them for her and guarded them for her, she’ll love you even more.”
If she could save the image of Gigi standing there in her mind’s eye, her warmth and her glee and her grin, she’d keep her eyes closed so she could see nothing else. “See you soon?”
“It’ll be nice to see you off the bus.” Gigi waves, stepping off the bus before turning back and waving again. “See ya, Crystal.”
She waves back as the doors close. She’s just gotten back on the road when she hears a whistle from behind her, taking Gigi’s spot—Bosco, of course. “Good for you, girl.”
“I hate both of you. Tell Betty I said that.” She calls it out, not caring that the two other people on the bus are watching it all happen.
“Love you too, sis. Thank god I don’t have to hear you pine after her anymore.” Daya’s still on the phone. Of course she is. Crystal wouldn’t be surprised if it was Facetime.
“I’ll do it more, just for you—I’m gonna go on a date with her.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Well, when you and ‘Sco both get home safe you can call and we’ll talk about it more. Love you both.”
A date. With Gigi. It’s almost surreal. They say goodbye to Daya, and in a few stops it’s Bosco’s turn to get off the bus. Embarrassingly, the other passengers congratulate her as they leave, but at the same time, she’s way too giddy to care.
It’s a little over an hour later when Gigi gets a text from Crystal, and it has three pictures attached. The first one has Tic Tac posing by the catnip, sitting pretty for the camera. The next one shows her taking a bite of an orchid. The last one, however, shows Crystal holding the stem of one of the flowers in her teeth, Tic Tac meowing indignantly up at her in the background.