commutes without communication

Do you ever eavesdrop?

My essay is 100 words short of the limit, but I feel like it's still repetitive...

I started taking the bus when I switched elementary schools. Getting put in a totally new environment of kids who were already friends for two years of taking the bus together, did not improve my chronic, paralyzing shyness. They all sat in the back four rows. They all had the same look -- third graders with bed-hair, unzipped hoodies, and untied shoelaces that were gray and fraying at the ends from tripping over them. Their black-worn-gray soles all hit the ground in unison as they chanted “we will rock you” to the beat of the bus bouncing over potholes. They were chill, but confident, and great friends. They exuded the kind of cool I wanted to be a part of.

Unfortunately, because of the shy thing, I was not rocking with them for the first day, or week, or even couples months. Instead, I sat in the first seat in front of them and just eavesdropped. I grew up  with a listening/watching personality in a house with thin walls, so I was a natural. I was a part of their conversations without them even realizing it. I listened one boy who came every day with a story about his pitbull who dragged him down the sidewalk every time he took a walk, and another kid who would only talk about how he was getting a skateboard for Christmas. He told us he wouldn’t even have to take the bus anymore because he would be riding to school on his skateboard from then on. It never actually happened, but all of the other bus kids believed it so I did, too.

I didn’t mind being an eavesdropper. Each day I heard conversations about new and exciting things in the lives of the hooligan boys. I thought I was getting the best of both worlds hiding behind the brown pleather; I got to participate in their discourse without ever speaking. The world at the back of the bus was so different from the goody-two-shoes world I was used to, but I liked to feel like I was a part of it.

I sang with them a couple times, but I never worked up the courage to talk to those boys. I sat with them every day, but I’m not sure they even knew my name. I moved to a new house a couple years later and I walked to school. There’s no one to eavesdrop on, but I have maintained my skills nonetheless. I’ve learned new methods since then; classics like looking like you’re reading, and headphones in with no music. I am fluent in body language and able to pick out all the important consonants in whispers. I listen in on conversations everywhere; classrooms, on the bus, in the hallway, cross country warm-ups. I always have been an eavesdropper, and I always will be.
While my nasty habit keeps me entertained, I think it keeps me from actually talking to people sometimes. Maybe I could have been friends with those hooligan boys if I ever decided to turn around and talk to them. Maybe I could even make friends with the people on my bus now. Maybe someday I’ll try it, talking to people I don’t know, but habits are hard to break.