You stagger backward from the concussion of the foot; it belongs to someone who was sliding into the seat you were in. Looking up, you see it isn't Kelsey. In fact, the flip-flop doesn't belong to a high school student. You squint; it's hard to tell from your size. You know that in your town, some buses go pick up middle-schoolers after the high school run, while others hit elementary schools.
You stop thinking as the flip- flop slides sideways, kicking you and sending you flying into the metal wall of the bus. You see that the girl you were riding with is moving to allow a friend to join her, and now that you can get a good look, you can tell that friend -- and the giant girl beside you -- is....
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