A boy, about 19 years old, stared at the back of a girl's head. She was his age. They stood outside the dorms in the cool morning. The air smelled of evaporating fog. The bus that would take them to their campus was parked in front of them, along with another bus with grated windows and the word "Corrections" along the side that belonged to the prison a block away. He licked his lips, took a step forward, and spoke.
"So, which bus are you getting on?"