Prior to moving to New York, I presumed that I would take the subway to and from work. New York’s subways are legendary: they are not merely modes of transportation, but they are also icons for culture in the city.

Alas, it is actually faster for me to get from Point A to Point B if I take the bus. So I do not tromp down the stairs and sit in the screeching silver carriages on rails; I instead stand away from the curb to avoid the splashes that come up when taxis, trucks, and cars zip past.

I often catch the morning bus that also carries the youth of New York who are commuting to school. I have never been skilled at accurately estimating the ages of adolescents; I am guessing that these students are in junior high.

There is a gaggle of four girls. Though they all have fancy cell phones, iPods, and designer jeans, they otherwise look like kids going through the throes of puberty.

In addition to periodically trading shoes (sometimes they trade pairs; sometimes they exchange one shoe for another shoe, though the shoes may not actually fit their feet), they also share bus seats.

The two taller girls usually sit on the double seat and the shorter girls sit in their laps. The four of them have conversations (most recently about the movie Twilight; sometimes they review their homework, which may entail reciting poetry, reading essays, or musing about life science) and they occasionally giggle the way many adolescent girls do.

Their male classmates are also on the bus and they often steal glances at the two tiers of girls. These boys are often engrossed in paperback novels or liberally using profanity while discussing the flaws of their teachers. Sometimes they antagonize the girls (”Why do you all like Edward in that movie? He looks like a girl!”); sometimes they stare out the windows, though their eyes continually wander back to the foursome who are clumped together like bunnies in the snow.

Some people comment that their childhoods were the best years of their lives. I, for one, am continually grateful that I am no longer in junior high.