American Love Songs (9 page)

Allanna was still waiting as they exited the conference room, and Jake couldnt help himself. He held his hand up for her to slap, a giant grin spreading across his face. “Welcome aboard,” he told her, feeling like he was on top of the world.

They were going to be great friends, he just knew it.

T
HE tour bus was amazing. It had a full kitchen, a bathroom, a sitting area with a TV and couches, and, best of all, four bunk beds, two on each side.

Unfortunately, Jake was not in any condition to appreciate the galley—or the X-Box Jimmy had hooked up in the back. About the only thing he was interested in was pulling the covers up over his head and sleeping until he felt better. He moaned pitifully as the bus changed lanes, upsetting the fragile balance in his stomach.

“Hey—you okay?”

 

Jake opened his eyes to find Parker sitting on the bed opposite him, leaning forward.

 

“Cold,” he said, knowing he was pouting like a child and not caring.

 

“Want me to get you another blanket?”

 

Jake nodded, curling his fingers into the one he had already, tucking it up under his nose. He just couldnt get warm enough.

With the blanket he already had pulled up so high, he heard more than saw Parker grab the blanket from the top bunk, then felt the extra weight as it was layered on top of him.

“Did you take anything?”

 

Jake peeled back a corner of the blankets to show off the bottle of NyQuil hed been sipping.

 

“Jake! How much of that stuff did you take?”

 

“Not enough,” Jake told him mournfully. “M still sick. M still conscious. N m still cold.”

 

Parker sighed and took the bottle. “Maybe we should get you to a doctor.”

“No!” Jake protested. He hated doctors—all the poking and prodding and particularly the needles. His fear of needles made him the worst rock star ever—no drugs, no tattoos. Not that they qualified as rock stars yet; theyd only played a couple of shows with Red Star, but he was optimistic. “Ill be fine once I get some sleep. I just need to get warm first.”

“I could ask Chris to turn the air down,” Parker offered.

That was sweet, but not exactly what Jake, in what he was stubbornly attributing to fever-induced childishness, wanted. He shook his head against the pillow.

“Okay, well, Ill let you try to get some sleep, then.” Parker took a step back toward the lounge, but Jake reached out and snagged his wrist before he could go anywhere.

“Jake? Do you need something else?”

Time to bring out the big guns. “
You’re
nice and warm,” he pointed out, tugging Parker closer with what remained of his strength. They totally needed to get an electric blanket, but for now he was willing to compromise. Parker would be just as good.

“Im not sick,” Parker pointed out to him. “And Id like to keep it that way.”

Jake opened his eyes and gave what he was sure was his most pitiful expression, shifting further back on the bunk and patting the small space beside him.

Parker looked back toward the lounge, then sat with a longsuffering sigh. “I didnt realize youd stoop this low to get me into bed with you,” he griped good-naturedly. “Youd better not snore.”

“Promise,” Jake said sincerely, shivering for a moment when the cold air seeped under his blankets. Then Parker squished in beside him, and there were a few seconds of cool clothing soaking up the heat before it was finally, blissfully warm.

The bunks were really too small for Jake even by himself, but he was too out of it to wonder how the hell Parker had managed to fit in beside him. As soon as he was warm, he fell asleep.

H
E WAS still warm when he woke up, and even though his mouth was dry as fuck and he kinda had to piss, he didnt move. Hed managed to warp himself into some kind of three-dimensional superpretzel; he could feel his arms and legs, but they were in places that didnt really make a lot of sense, and he was still too fuzzy from the NyQuil to care to investigate.

Or he was until Parker shifted beside him, mumbling something. The cadence was just right; it couldnt be anyone else. Jake opened his eyes long enough to see Jimmy snap a picture with the camera from his cell phone and take in the hilarious way Parker was drooling on the pillow. Adorable, he thought vaguely. Then he shoved his face back into his own pillow and went back to sleep.

The next time he regained consciousness, he felt… better? The pressure in his head had subsided a bit, though his mouth was now Gobi-desert-level dry and he really,
really
needed to go pee. He was still wrapped around Parker, though—like, one of his legs was somehow slung overtop of Parkers hip, and he had one arm under Parkers head on the pillow, the other over his waist, and the blankets were tangled around them so tightly he was pretty sure he couldnt even scratch his nose without the movement waking Parker.

He tried anyway, though, because when a man had to piss, a man had to piss. He was planning to just loosen the blankets and then climb over Parkers sleeping form—his legs were long enough to allow it— but just when he attempted the part where he put weight on his right foot, the bus took a turn, and he fell back into the bunk, half on top of Parker.

Parker grunted, stretching languidly and rubbing a hand over his eyes, apparently oblivious to the way Jake was frozen behind him. “I think you just messed up my sleep schedule,” he said, voice sandpaperrough from sleep. “Jerk.”

“Sorry,” Jake squeaked, still not moving. He was painfully aware of every place he and Parker were touching, one in particular. “Dude, either get up or get off,” Parker said at last. “Seriously, dont expect me to do it for you.”

 

“Parker!” Jake said, shocked into laughter. “You dirty boy,” he sighed, climbing out of bed for real this time.

 

“You like it,” Parker mumbled, rolling over into the warm spot Jake had left.

 

There was no point in correcting him, since he was right and also mostly unconscious. Besides, Jake really, really needed to take a piss.

 

PRODIGAL: OFFICIAL BLOG OF THE WAYWARD SONS

 

Date: August 9, 2009 Author: Parker

 

On the road again

So I know Jake promised you guys an update (which is what Im doing here—he used the puppy eyes) once we crossed the Rockies, but youre going to have to hold out just a little longer. Jake picked up a flu bug somewhere, and he hasnt done anything but sleep and puke since. Were making him drink lots of fluid and eat lots of chicken soup so he wont have to miss any shows, though of course he could always get worse. Knock wood. He is pretty whiny and pathetic right now, guys. Very emo. Im debating whether I should stop being his friend.

Anyway, so the news from the road! Here is a picture Allanna took of the four of us standing at the Great Divide! Please note that there is snow on the ground, which I stepped in. Apparently nobody told the cloud it was July in Wyoming, too. Also note that I am not a midget. Everyone looks like that when they stand next to Jake. Well, everyone except freaks and NBA stars.

Heres a picture of Jake in front of the exit sign for Fruitland, Utah, his home away from home. I bet you guys didnt even know there was such a thing as Fruitland. Well, theres a place… anyway.

Well be playing Salt Lake City tomorrow night, then Reno, then Sacramento, then San Jose, Bakersfield, and LA after that. I guess Id better get my beauty sleep.

Before I go, Jimmy wants to post this picture he took the other day from the tour bus. Warning: its probably of the wall of fame. EDIT: Not the wall of fame, then. Incidentally, if Jimmy is murdered in the next couple of hours, I didnt do it.

 

EDIT 2: How do I turn off comment notifications?

 

“
C
OMEon, Jake, you gotta get up.”

Jake rolled over in the hotel bed, pulling the pillow over his face. Even that small movement made his stomach churn unpleasantly. “Just let me die,” he whined. His stomach hurt, his chest ached, and he was so congested that a sneeze would probably have made his brains leak out his ears.

“You have a concert in two hours,” Allanna snapped, jerking the blankets off of him. Jake curled up into a ball, shivering. “You are not going to let your boys down.”

Jake groaned. “Look, this might be too much information for you, but I cant stop puking, and thats not the least of my problems. How am I supposed to go onstage?”

Allanna thrust a bottle of Pepto-Bismol in front of his face. “I have a few ideas. Come on, youll feel better after you shower, I promise.”

Somehow, Jake mustered the energy to glare at her. He was starting to rethink his initial assessment.

Allanna was not in the least bit cowed. In fact, her expression was remarkably similar to the one Jakes mother had worn every time shed insisted he go to school despite the fact that he was sick.

Of course, Jake hadnt actually been sick then, and he definitely was now. Still, the expression was no less effective for that. He sighed and rolled to the side of the bed, cautiously slipping his feet over the side. “What are you doing here?”

“Hiding from Chris. I think hes in heat or something. He keeps trying to hump my leg. What do you think Im doing here?” The sarcasm went right over his head. “Wheres Parker?”

“He went across the hall to tell Chris and Jimmy youd be late for warmups.” Allanna watched him carefully as he got to his feet. “This was the earliest hed let me in to wake you.”

Jake felt a warm, shivery rush of affection for Parker. Then again, it could have been the fever. “Good man,” he managed. When it didnt seem like he was going to fall over, he started making his way toward the bathroom.

Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Holy crap, it was a wonder Parker hadnt just called the coroner. “Maybe youd better tell Macy Im going to need some extra time in her chair today.”
²⁴

“Already done,” Allanna called from the next room. “Shes readying your war paint. You just worry about getting clean.”
²⁴
Apparently even what-you-see-is-what-you-get bands needed stage makeup in order not to look like zombies on stage.

Jake had to admit, the warm water did wonders for his outlook. Once the layer of sickly grime hed been wallowing in all day had been washed away, he almost felt like he could face the world. The steam helped clear up his congestion, at least temporarily, but when he stepped out of the shower and wiped a circle in the condensation on the mirror, he still looked like death.

At least it was a clean death, he thought to himself wryly.

“Oh, for Gods sake, Jake, put some pants on,” Allanna told him when he emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel. She hadnt even looked up from her PDA.

“Sorry,” Jake said snidely, “I like to shower in the buff.”

Allanna tried to mask her snort, but Jake heard it despite the fuzziness in his head. He reached for his travel bag unselfconsciously. It wasnt like Allanna hadnt seen them all more or less naked the week before the tour started, when Macy had had them in and out of seventeen different outfits each before breakfast. So much for an uncontrived image. “Whats that smell?” It had been so long since he could use his nose properly that the scent seemed especially strong.

“I ordered you room service.”

 

Jakes stomach growled. “I take back all the bad things I said about you.”

 

“You didnt say any bad things about me.”

He waved his hand. “Semantics. I was thinking them.” He tugged on a clean pair of boxers and a pair of stage jeans, then reached for a Tshirt.

“Wear the Under Armour,” Allanna advised, again without removing her eyes from her PDA. She definitely had a lot more in common with Jakes mom than hed previously thought.

“I dont have Under Armour.”
“I bought you some. Itll help regulate your body temperature.”

For the first time, Jake noticed the plastic bag on the bed. “You think of everything.” He pulled the shirt over his head and checked himself out in the mirror. He still looked sickly, but the shirt wasnt half bad. “Thanks.”

Allanna finally shoved her PDA into her pocket and looked up at him. “Youre welcome.” She gestured to the secretary, where a bowl of steaming soup was waiting for him. “Go ahead and eat. Macys on her way up; shes going to do you up here to save time.”

Jake sat and dug in. It was the first time hed felt hungry in a week, and he took advantage and tried to put some meat back on his bones. He was skinny enough to begin with, but he was starting to look emaciated.

While he ate, Allanna lined up a number of medications on the table beside him: the Pepto, some Tylenol, vitamin C, and a bottle of nasal spray. “I checked with a doctor,” she assured him. “Theres no contraindications, so you can take them all if you need to. I recommend keeping the nasal spray in your pocket during the concert, just in case.”

Jake nodded, shoveling another spoonful of hot soup into his mouth. It burned his tongue, so he made himself put the spoon down and gestured to the last bottle, which looked like a tub of Vaseline. “Do I even want to know what you think Im going to be doing with that in my condition?”

“Your „condition?” Allanna echoed. “What, are you pregnant now?” She reached out with one foot and nudged his chair, causing it to rock just a little. “Its a topical decongestant. You rub it on your chest. It should help you sleep better tonight.”

Jake picked it up, surprised, and turned toward her.

 

She shrugged. “Parker mentioned youd been having trouble breathing.”

“I didnt realize Id been keeping him up.” Maybe he should have gotten his own room when he got sick, after all. The label only sprung for them to double up, and since Parker didnt mind and Jake never brought anyone back to his room as a rule, it had worked out fine.

Chris and Jimmy had decided to split the difference on getting their own rooms, of course.

“I dont think he was complaining. Just concerned.” Allanna consulted her PDA. “We have a couple of days downtime after tonight. Well get you in to see a doctor, get some antibiotics, and you can spend almost the whole week sleeping. How does that sound?”

Jake spooned up the last mouthful of soup and slurped it down. There were a couple of packages of crackers on a little side plate, but his stomach protested. He was full. “I hate the doctor,” he said, pouting, chancing a poke at his stomach.