Impatiently I sat next to a girl scrolling through her Instagram feed and liking none of the posts. She looked up to her friend and turned her phone around to her friend. Her friend scoffed and remarked, “Her skirt is so high up. What a whore.” She laughed and continued scrolling. On my left was a guy who stared aimlessly out the window. Every couple of seconds he would sigh and shift around. My leg remained flush against his, but there was no room for me to move away. Annoyed I sat next to them, half immersed in their lives and not wanting to wonder what they were up to. Helpless I sat next to them not giving up my pride to judge them. I was better than that. The bus lurched and turned, pushing me up to the girl I didn’t want to be and siding up next to the guy I would reject. When it was almost the last stop, silence fell. The girl was impatiently staring out the window, already getting ready to bolt out the door once the bus stopped. The guy pulled out his phone and texted his friend. I think he’s late to class, but he doesn’t seem too worried, but his feet tapped to a motionless song. Out of the blue, a single tone drifted through the bus. It wasn’t a text tone or a too loud laughter. It was an attempt at whistling. It shakily soared around the stressed and disassociating students and squeezing into their headsets. For a moment, the guy stopped texting and the girl paused. Something was off and their keen noses wanted to seek out the outlier, but their pride and lack of effort gave in. I stared at the ground and tried to move along with the tune, but nothing was identified. I lifted my head to identify the source, but it surrounded me. For once in these fifteen minutes, I glanced at my invisible companions for a scoff or a search. I wanted a validation that I wasn’t standing out. I looked hard at everyone for a pursed lip or swaying motions. I would imagine that only they would be enjoying their little melody. My invisible companions resumed their stillness, only moving whatever is necessary while I was driven insane by the weaving rising and falling tone that resembled nothing. The tone remained anonymous as I stepped off the bus and I quickly walked ahead, erasing the tone out of my mind and hoping no one caught sight of me, identifying me as an outlier for my efforts.