Petals and Pebbles

Current time: 5:28
The evening hours had summoned bubbly white clouds with grey under bellies that scurried across the bright blue sky, sucking the sun's warmth away with them. A chilly breeze grazed across the parking deck, raising goosebumps on my pale legs as I entered the Union Bus Station. I nonchalantly made my way to the column with monitors mounted on it so I could check the next departure of the bus from the station.
6:00.
With the news of my 30 minute wait, the green, rubber covered metal bench beckoned me and I hazily obeyed. I pulled a book out of my purse, opening it to a half-read page, and placed it on my crossed legs as I began to engross myself back into the story.  But in that same moment, the lanky, unshaven older man who had perched on the bench beside me decided to engage me.
"Do you take classes here?" he said in almost a whisper. His glasses created the illusion that his topaz eyes were a little too small and beady.
"Yes, yes I do," I readily answered.
"Oh, so what year are you?"
"I'm a sophomore. Are you taking classes?"
"Oh, no. Not anymore. I teach, actually. I teach percussion, mainly the snare," the old man declared with a small sense of pride.
I smiled my friendly smile, stretching my lips out to reveal my whole top row of teeth, but even I could see that it was laced with only half sincerity. The old man mirrored my grin with no lag in his response and extended his leathery hand to me.
"I'm Rob," he said, not breaking eye contact.
"I'm Mariah. Nice to meet you," I replied, placing my meaty hand in his for a firm shake.