THE rocked to and fro as it ambled from the lush Windward side southbound to downtown. Malia felt her body relax and her senses heighten, the privilege of an observer with nowhere to go. Clank-clank-clank meant an adult slipped 75 cents into the fare box. A single ding meant a child was on board, though there were few. At the high school stop, teenagers got on the bus bringing with them a wave of singsong pidgin. The girls talked about the boys who were not there (whom they loved) or the girls who were not there (whom they hated).