I sit up with a groan, or as much as I can with my large frame in the small bunk. Granted they’re bigger than the ones we had for our first couple of tours. I remember just being in awe of the opportunity and the stars in all of our eyes that we didn’t care that the beds felt more like little caskets than actual places to sleep at night.
Sliding the curtain back and shielding my eyes from the sunlight that pours in, I hop down and pad barefoot down the narrow hallway. The front of the bus is quiet despite Hayden, Nikolai, and Scarlett all being awake and hanging out.
Correction: Hayden and Nikolai are hanging out on the couches on opposite sides of the bus, tossing a foam football back and forth playfully, their conversations hushed. Scarlett is tucked into the corner of the dining booth, hunched over a laptop with noise canceling headphones on. They look slightly ridiculous on her small head, and I smile. But when she glances up and sends me a look that instantly cools any lingering heat that I carried with me from my bunk, I let it slide from my face.
“No one’s cooking me breakfast?” I ask the boys, flopping down beside Nikolai and intercepting the pass from Hayden. Nikolai tries to swat it from my hand but I hold it outside of his reach before tossing it back to Hayden.
“It’s almost noon, dude,” Hayden says.
“Reid still sleeping?” I ask.
“I think he’s in the back.” Nikolai claps his hands, motioning for Hayden to toss him the ball, which he catches with ease. “Probably already trying to pass my achievements on Dead Island 2.”
Well, good luck to him then. Nikolai hasn’t met a video game he can’t master. He’s just one of those people that when he decides he’s going to try something, he’s going to be one of the best. We’re damn lucky to have him as our lead singer and guitarist.
My body lurches forward a bit, and I slam my hands on the leather seat to help brace myself, Nikolai and Hayden doing the same.
I peer at the driver’s seat, before a beefy hand waves around the curtain in apology.
“Sorry, guys,” one of our drivers, Darian, calls out. “Bit of traffic coming up here and asshole cut me off.”
“All good, man,” Nikolai calls back, settling upright again and continuing to toss the football. We’re all used to the blips that come with being toted around the country on a bus, but when I turn to look toward the kitchen, judging by the harsh scowl on Scarlett’s face, it’s safe to say she wouldn’t have called back the same understanding response Nikolai did.
I get up and walk the short distance to the fridge, opening it up to inspect what we all got stocked for our first few days. Shuffling items around, I don’t even notice I’ve been holding my breath until I begin to see little sparks dance along the edge of my vision. I release a puff of air, realizing I was already bracing myself for how nasty our fridge will surely end up being in the coming months.
“Don’t let all the cold out,” Scarlett says, the first thing she’s said to me since she dropped her stuff off on the bus yesterday.
Not that I’ve been counting or anything.
I grab a container of raspberries and a carton of yogurt, knocking the door closed with my elbow before leaning against the counter, the marble cool against my bare hip.
“I don’t really get bothered by the cold.” I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest, maybe flexing them just a little bit. I watch her eyes closely, seeing if she’ll dip them down from my gaze to glance at my naked torso. Her deep brown meets my dark green, not wavering.
She’s wrong if she thought I would be letting any cold air seep from the fridge to cool the space down because with the way her eyes are burning through mine, she’s ratcheting up the temperature in here by a few degrees.
I’m the one to cave, letting her have this small win, and break eye contact to grab a paper bowl from the top cupboard as she silently resumes whatever it is she’s doing on her laptop. Scooping a generous amount of yogurt in, I top it with a handful of raspberries and a dollop of honey. I’d love a warm, more comforting breakfast spread but if it’s closer to lunch time, that probably means we’ll be stopping to switch drivers and get gas soon, which means shitty gas station taquitos and chicken wings are not far off.
I slip into the opposite side of the booth as Scarlett, sitting sideways to kick my legs up on the seat and rest my back against the wall of the bus. I watch her as I eat, waiting to see if she’ll look back up at me.
After a few quiet mouthfuls, I ask, “Whatcha got going on there?” I’m not sure she even hears me with her headphones on, until she hits the spacebar and slips one side of her headset off to free up her right ear. Her hair falls around her shoulders in dark, messy waves. Most likely her natural hair since she hasn’t had a reason to style yet for the day.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
“I asked what you have going on there,” I respond, taking another bite, getting a sour berry that twists my face.
She tilts her head and raises her brow mockingly, as if to say, Seriously? That’s what you interrupted me for? But after a brief pause, she twists the screen around for me to take a look.
“Working on my set for tonight.” The program she has running on her computer looks completely foreign to me.
“Do you normally switch it for each show?” I ask, genuinely curious. With the band, it’s hard enough building a set list out to include all of our most popular songs, fan favorites, and new material, that I can’t fathom switching anything up the morning before a show.
“Depends.”
I watch her and wait for more, but instead she simply swivels her computer back around to face her and adjusts her headphones, instantly hunching back over the screen with determination.
I finish off the rest of my breakfast before getting up to discard my bowl, locate my phone in my jeans from last night, and settle back in beside Nikolai as he and Hayden flip through a list of movies to watch. As I sink into the soft leather, leaning shoulder to shoulder with my best friend and bandmate, it’s almost as if I can feel my muscles relax one by one. We’ve been through a lot these past few years, and here with the bus chugging along, picking out a movie to pass the time between cities, I feel a sense of belonging I haven’t in a long time.
* * *