Wattle waited at the sunny bus stop. Far down the street, the big yellow bus came whooshing around the corner.
Wattle held the backpack strap tight. Then one paw lifted. A brave little wave.
The bus stopped with a loud hiss. Wattle climbed the tall steps. At the top, Wattle waved again to the driver.
Wattle picked a seat that bumped and jiggled. The vinyl felt squeaky underneath.
Clappity-clap! The doors folded shut. Wattle went very still for a moment.
Then the bus rumbled on. Wattle peeked down the long aisle as mailboxes and trees slipped by the windows.
Bounce! The bus gave a surprise hop. Boing! Wattle's lunch box popped open.
A round apple rolled away. It spun down the aisle like a tiny red wheel. "Oh!" said Wattle.
Wattle hurried after it. Past the seats. Past the windows full of morning light.
Just before the front step—got it! Wattle caught the apple in both paws.
The driver glanced in the mirror. Ahead, the school came into view.
Wattle looked at the tall school doors. At the flapping bus sign. At all the rows of seats behind.
Then one paw rose again. One more brave little wave. This time, to the day waiting outside.
Wattle stepped down to the curb. The lunch box was tucked tight. The apple was safe inside.
