Every morning in the third grade I got on first stop that the school bus made. They tell you in the bus drills to fill in the seats neatly, one-two one-two, from the front to the back, but you never do, you always sit in the farthest seat from the driver.
Every morning, I got on first, so I got to choose. I chose the seat at the back.
Every morning, the boy who lived two blocks down from me would get on after me. Every morning, he took the other back seat.
"Good morning," I said, every morning. I had moved that October. School buses were new to me. Everything was new to me.
"Shut up," he said back, every morning.
I guess that's when I learned that unfailing politeness can really annoy people who choose to be deliberately unkind for no reason.
