The Girl at Bus Stop 27

---

Chapter 1: The Girl at Bus Stop 27

It always rained on Tuesdays.

Not the stormy kind of rain that demanded attention—but the quiet kind. A gentle, persistent drizzle that blurred the windows, soaked the sidewalks, and made the whole city feel like it was half-asleep. Zayne Liu had come to expect it. He counted on it, actually. There was something oddly comforting in the predictability of rain, like the city was mourning something it couldn’t name—and maybe, so was he.

He sat near the back of the 9:10 p.m. bus every Tuesday, headphones in, hoodie up, staring out the window as neon signs and headlights streaked through the wet glass. He didn’t mind the silence. It was easier than conversation. Safer.

His job at the auto garage ended around eight-thirty. He could walk home in twenty minutes, but he took the long route—waited for this specific bus—because of her.

Bus Stop 27.

She was always there before him. Standing beneath the flickering streetlamp, holding a red umbrella in one hand and a small black notebook in the other. She never looked at the bus. Never even turned her head. She’d just stare off down the road, as if she were waiting for someone who was always late. Or never coming.

Zayne didn’t know her name. Not yet. But she’d been appearing at that same stop for eight Tuesdays in a row. Same umbrella. Same spot. Same expression—calm, unreadable, like her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

At first, he’d just noticed her out of habit, like how you notice a particular crack in the pavement or a familiar graffiti tag. But week by week, he started watching longer. He’d look up from his music when the bus slowed, just to catch a glimpse of her through the rain.

Tonight was no different.

The bus hissed to a stop. The doors opened. No one got on.

Zayne’s eyes found her immediately. She was there again, her red umbrella casting a faint reflection in the puddles around her boots. Her long black coat fluttered slightly in the wind. And even from this distance, he could see that her fingers were still scribbling something into her notebook.

What was she writing?

What was she waiting for?

Before he could stop himself, Zayne pulled his hood down, took one earbud out, and leaned closer to the window.

She glanced up.

Just for a second. Just long enough to meet his gaze through the misted glass. Her eyes were a deep, quiet kind of brown—like dusk over a lake. And then the moment was gone. She looked away. The bus pulled forward.

Zayne leaned back, heart doing something it hadn’t done in a long time.

Why did she finally look at him tonight?

He spent the rest of the ride wondering if he should have gotten off. Wondering if he should next time. Wondering if maybe… this wasn’t just a coincidence anymore.

When the bus stopped in front of his apartment building, he hesitated before stepping off. The rain tapped rhythmically on the metal roof of the bus shelter. Everything smelled like wet concrete and the faint scent of rain-soaked lilies from the flower stall across the street.

He tilted his head back and let a few drops hit his face.

Zayne Liu didn’t believe in fate. He didn’t believe in signs.

But something about that girl at Bus Stop 27 was beginning to feel like both.

And deep down, where old feelings still lingered like old scars—he knew the rain wasn’t the only thing returning every Tuesday night.

---

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***