Authors: Katy Atlas
April slipped on a pair of aviator sunglasses with dark lenses. Let’s go, she called from the bus’s front door. We only have an hour.
Jesse followed a few steps behind her, and Sophie and I climbed down next. As I looked around, there were dozens of other tour buses gathered in the parking lot alongside ours.
Ours, I thought. Already.
I looked back, watching Blake walk down the stairs and out into the bright afternoon sunlight.
Come on, he said. Let’s get some lunch, too. He put an arm around me as we headed out of the parking lot, the attendants watching all of us with interest as they let us through the gate. Blake looked relieved as we passed without a word, and he led me in the direction of the concession stand.
Everyone else headed over to the main stage to see what band was on next, and for a moment, I was relieved that Blake and I were finally alone. After almost a day and a half together, he still hadn’t tried to kiss me again, and it was starting to make me nervous.
He didn’t seem to be sick of me. We’d talked late into the night after the concert in Massachusetts, only falling asleep reluctantly when I realized it was after two o clock in the morning. He’d offered to let me sleep in his bunk and for him to sleep on the couch, but I didn’t really want to share a bunk bed with Jesse. Besides, I figured it was more important for him to be well-rested than for me to be.
But still. Not one attempt. Two days, and not a single kiss.
As Blake led me across dry, crunchy grass in the direction of the concession stand, a girl our age approached us, wearing cutoffs and a skimpy bikini top and grinning ear to ear. Blake seemed to recognize her expression in the same instant I did, and looked away a second too late.
Hey, the girl said, her voice rising excitedly. Aren’t you Blake Parker?
Blake looked at her and nodded, pausing and waiting for her to catch up to us.
I wondered how I would react if someone came up to me asking, Aren’t you Casey Snow? Not that they ever would.
The girl slinked closer, pretty and tan and self-assured. Could you take a picture with me?
Sure, Blake said, smiling patiently.
The girl turned to me as if she’d just realized I was there. Would you take it for me? she asked, handing me her camera and nestling her body under Blake’s arm before I could even turn on the power. I took the picture quickly, feeling my stomach clench in jealousy and trying not to show it.
The girl stayed under Blake’s arm for a second too long after the picture was over, saying something low and quietly into his ear.
Blake smiled patiently as she whispered to him, and then shook his head minutely and lifted his arm off her shoulders. The girl hovered for another second before giving Blake an unmistakable come-hither smile and walking away.
He took my hand, acting like nothing had happened. I felt my voice catch in my throat every time I wanted to say something. Hordes of screaming twelve-year-olds were one thing. This girl was different.
Do you, I tried to find my voice, every word seeming wrong. Um, I started again. Was she--
Blake stopped walking and looked down at me, the sun behind his dark hair making it seem to glow. Girls like that, he said quietly, they always want something, you know? Even if it doesn’t show at first, he sighed. I realized pretty quickly you can’t trust them, he brushed a strand of hair out of my face and pulled me closer to him. I felt my breath catch as he stared at me intently, his blue eyes inches from mine.
Kiss me, I thought to myself. Do it now.
I held my breath, staring into his eyes, but something in him seemed to pull back. I’m glad you’re here, he said quietly, and then kept walking, skipping the concession stand and leading me in the direction of the main stage.
I tried not to feel defeated, following Blake into the arena. Girls like that, he’d said. What was that border, exactly? The only thing separating me from that girl was the lie I’d told, and now it was even more impossible for me to come clean.
Sometimes it felt like every step I took was halfway backwards, as if it was inevitable that everything I did now would inevitably come crashing down.
Just when, I thought. I just didn’t know when.
Moving Neutral was the last band at the festival, but no one seemed to be in much of a rush to leave after they’d finished their set. There was a gated area for the bands to wait in, the sort of outdoor equivalent of a green room, and as Blake led me past the security guard, it was already starting to get dark. Sophie and April sat at a table with a guy I didn’t recognize, and Sophie waved to us as we walked over.
You guy remember Nate, right? Sophie said to Blake, looking back and forth from him to the guy with shaggy blonde hair beside her.
Blake grinned at the guy, sitting down at the table. Of course, he said. Casey, Nate sings for Fall Guy, he gestured for me to sit next to him. I heard you guys toured with the Shins last fall, that must have been amazing.
The guy nodded, and I smiled at him. I wasn’t sure who Fall Guy was, but I definitely knew the Shins.
Where are you guys heading next? Nate asked, directing his question mostly to April, who was quite obviously enjoying his attention.
Chicago, she said, rolling her eyes. We’re on the road for another month, what a nightmare. Where are you guys going?
Back to L.A., Nate said, looking disappointed. I looked more closely at him -- even sitting down, I could tell that he was taller than April, tan and muscular. It was hard to judge another guy while Blake was around, but I had to admit, Nate was pretty cute.
Anyone seen Jesse? Blake asked, craning his neck to look across the space.
April giggled. I wouldn’t go looking for him, unless you want a repeat of what happened in Vegas.
Blake shook his head, smiling, and Sophie smothered a laugh. I looked at him, curious.
What happened in Vegas? I asked.
I don’t want to talk about it, Blake said, lowering his eyes in embarrassment. Thanks, April. I’d spent the last six months successfully blocking that out, he grinned. I’m going to go look for Jesse in every available public space, he said, standing up and walking away before anyone could stop him.
What happened in Vegas? I asked again, and Sophie choked back a laugh before answering.
Blake and Jesse were sharing a hotel room, which is never a good idea, especially in Vegas, she started, and Nate nodded in apparent agreement. Everyone but me, it seemed, knew a lot about hotel rooms in Las Vegas.
April broke in. We were all at this stupid club, pretty drunk, and Blake realizes that Jesse is missing, okay? She ignored me and directed the story at Nate, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Blake goes looking for him all over the club, which was kind of stupid, because you know how girls are with Blake. So he’s got this, like, mob of followers and he still can’t find Jesse, and he’s actually getting pretty worried, so Sophie, she covered her mouth to hide her laughter, her whole body shaking. Sophie tells Blake that he should go check the room, just to make sure that Jesse’s okay.
I meant it at the time, Sophie interrupted, laughing so hard she could barely speak. I was worried about him too.
So Blake heads up to the room to check on Jesse, and he opens the door and what does he see? April paused for effect, looking around the table. Jesse’s naked, hairy butt, totally on display as he gets it on with some random groupie. They didn’t even bother to get under the sheets, April said gleefully. So gross what those girls will do, she said, looking straight at me.
Nate howled, banging on the table as we all tried to push the image out of our heads. I looked down awkwardly, not sure what to make of April’s comment.
That’s Vegas, Nate joked, pulling a plastic bag out of his pocket and setting it on the table. He took a joint and a lighter out of the bag and held them between his thumb and forefinger. Anyone?
April grinned, looking at me with her eyes wide and her voice dripping with sarcasm. I think we’re making poor little Casey uncomfortable, she said, her voice melodic and painfully annoying.
I’m fine, I said steely, resisting the urge to look around for wherever Blake had gone.
Nate passed the joint to April, who sucked in deeply and then passed it to Sophie. Sophie held it out to me, looking at me curiously as if she couldn’t predict my reaction.
I shook my head, and then immediately regretted it, feeling myself start to blush. Part of my brain flashed back to those anti-drug videos they’d made us watch in grade school, where it was supposed to be totally okay to just shake your head no in situations like these. Those stupid videos always cut out right after the kid made the right decision, they never stuck around to watch your face turn beet red while you wondered if everyone at the table thought you were a giant loser.
Sophie gave me a half smile and passed the joint back to Nate, who looked as though he’d found the whole interaction hilarious.
Who is this girl? he asked April, who smiled smugly in response.
She’s with Blake, she said. I know. I think he only likes her because she’s the only person on earth who hasn’t heard of Moving Neutral.
Sophie snuck a sideways glance at me, giving me an infinitesimal shake of her head as if to tell me to ignore April’s comments. I tried to smile back, but after today, I had a sinking feeling that April might be partly right.
Jesse and Blake showed up a moment later. April squealed in protest as Jesse lifted the joint out of her hand, shaking his head at her. Bad for your voice, he said with a wink.
Blake rested his palms on my shoulders, rubbing his thumbs on the back of my neck.
Want to get out of here? he leaned down and whispered into my ear.
I exhaled, nodding my head in relief. Standing up, I gave Sophie a weak smile, still trying to push April’s words out of my head.
I didn’t get off the bus after Vermont, and that night, as we drove through upstate New York, I started to wonder when I would get off. Looking at the date on the next morning’s paper, I had eight weeks until freshman orientation. And only another day before I’d promised myself that I would call my parents.
Blake had dozed off while reading a book. I pulled it out of his hands, watching as he turned over onto one side, his face pressed against the cushion on the arm of one of the loveseats.
Blake Parker. It was strange to think that he was suddenly real, flesh and blood and human, sleeping in front of me. Even after all the interviews I’d read and the pictures I’d stared at, Blake as a real person left them all in the dust.
I was beginning to feel desperate, wanting each moment to last forever, wanting it all to stop passing by so quickly. I had thought, before meeting him, that I was in love with Blake. Listening to his music was like hearing every emotion I’d ever had, put to better words than I could ever express. But what I felt now was somehow different, better and more real because now I knew how sweet and modest and, yes, painfully handsome he really was.
But Blake’s reaction to the girl at the concert had wormed its way inside of me like a virus, and now I couldn’t get it out of my head. He didn’t want to date his biggest fan, no matter how pretty she was or how hard she threw herself at him. Because of my lie, he wanted me instead. We were living in a house of cards, one that I’d built so elaborately on a trick foundation.
I was the only one awake. Looking out onto the highway through the window, the only light came from headlights in front of us and behind us. There couldn’t be many towns nearby, because all I could see on the sides of the road was darkness. No twinkling lights, no skyscrapers in the distance. I looked out ahead of us, imagining that there was somewhere we were aiming for, something on the horizon that was driving us forward.
With that thought in my mind, we left New York behind and crossed the border into the upper tip of Pennsylvania. A brightly lit billboard for Niagara Falls was the last thing I saw before drifting off to sleep.
Two days later, we pulled into an underground parking garage in Chicago around eight in the morning. I had fallen asleep with my head resting on Blake’s shoulder, but I was jostled awake when the bus stopped. He didn’t stir.
For a moment, I didn’t move, breathing in his now-familiar smell. I looked down at his arm, resting carelessly across my body, and below it, converse sneakers peeking out from underneath the ripped bottoms of his jeans.
I tried to sit up without disturbing him, but the moment I moved away, he turned his body onto one side, and slowly opened his eyes.
Hi, he said, smiling at me.
It was hard to think straight, looking at him. Probably that’s why I’d thought about the future so little, since I agreed to come on the tour.
Hi, I whispered, resisting the urge to kiss him, yet again.
Where are we?
Chicago, I giggled. I hope.
What time is it?
Sometimes it felt like the days and nights faded into each other. We’d been on the road a week, sleeping in spurts at random hours, requesting stops at fast food restaurants off the highway in the middle of the night.
About ten, I think, I said.
We can try to check into the hotel early, he said, but the rooms probably won’t be ready till the afternoon.