It was a little past six in the morning by the time the rickety Greyhound squealed to a stop at the dusty, Atlantic City Depot. Air hissed & popped as the compression doors jolted open.
" 'Lantic City!" Called the driver, "End'uv  thuh line!"
The nosey ole' fruit bat was the first one off the bus, snatching her oversized purse like a eagle plucks a fish out of water & bee-linin' it towards the door, not even stopping to see if she'd left anything on the seat. Rodney wasn't usually so acidic, especially towards old women, but he was no fool either and now was no time for civil formalitites.
Hands jammed tight inside his coat, Rodney sat welded to his seat as the sounds of people standing, streaching and unloading washed over him. His 40$ was enough to get him a last minute pass to Atlantic City, but 2 hours was not enough time for him to even wrap his mind around what he'd done.
Six-thirteen: Rodney glanced at the small clock the driver had hung beside the rear-view mirror. The janitorial staff would be ariving in about seventeen minutes. It would be about twenty minutes before they got to unlocking the last portable out on the far end of the school grounds. They'd call the cops straight away, but being as the closest station was Camdon County, it would take them at least fifteen to get all the way out to the sticks. Wouldn't take no CIA to figure out what had happend once they got there, Rodney almost snickered. An hour or so of official police dickin around and they'd have a report ready for the 8 o'clock morning news.
"Hey kid!" the driver's voice brought Rodney's eyes to the front of the bus where it became apparent he was the only one left. "I said end of the line!"
Rodney's heart throbbed in his throat & his mind spun. 2 hours, ****, he thought to himself. ****, come 8am, I'll be the most wanted kid this side of the Mason-Dixie.