I can’t control it. It sways to the left, and to the right when I push the gas pedal faster. Leo puts his hands over mine on the steering wheel to maintain stability. I look in the rearview mirror. The boys and girls are on the edge of their seats, willing to help. “Wow,” one of the game-loving boys says. “At least we’re not going to school.” I don’t think any of us really understand that we might die any minute. Somehow, the spirit of play is still in us. The bus next to me starts hitting the side of our bus, on purpose. The outranked in my bus scream. Why is the other bus hitting us? We are all in the same league. Leo gets to the edge of the door and fires two shots into the air to scare them away. “They want the Jeep,” a girl yells from the back of our bus. My bus! Of course they want the Jeep. We are almost one minute in. I see others panicking from the other buses, getting out and running away. They are trying to keep up with the speed on their feet, trusting their own bodies better than any other plan.
