The bus shifted, knocking my head into the outside wall. I groaned even before I was awake enough to realize fully what had happened, but then that groan woke me up even more.
Yay, tour bus living.
Rolling onto my back, I blinked open my eyes but wasn’t alarmed when I couldn’t see anything—I’d gotten used to the complete darkness inside my bunk. Also, the gentle swaying of the bus as it motored down the road reminded me where I was.
I fumbled around for my phone and squinted when a press of the home button brought the screen to life so I could check the time.
Not even six a.m. Sigh. Too early to get up, almost too late to go back to sleep. Then, as I did a little self-scan, I realized I had to pee. Not really badly, but living on a bus with lots of other people meant bathroom lines, even at weird hours when everyone should be asleep. What seemed like a non-urgent need for the bathroom can quickly turn urgent when there are five people ahead of you.
Stifling another groan, I carefully pulled the curtain back on my bunk and listened. Other than some heavy breathing and a few snores (that were loud enough to be cute, but not so loud that they were annoying), all was quiet on the bus except for the white noise of the engine and the bus’s air conditioning units.
I rolled over onto my stomach and stuck my legs out into the aisle, climbing down past my father’s bunk and then the junk bunk at the bottom as quietly as I could.
“Nessa?”
The whisper came from the front of the bus and was so quiet, I almost thought I was hearing things. But no, as my feet landed softly on the floor and I turned, I saw Dave’s head at an angle, leaning out into the aisle. As I walked toward him, I saw he was sitting on the leather couch by himself, almost invisible in the barely there overhead lights that were always on for safety.
He was wearing what I’d come to know as the guys’ standard issue pajamas: t-shirt and flannel pants, bare feet. Actually, I was wearing much the same, except I always wore socks to bed or my toes froze in the air conditioning.
“What are you doing up?” I mostly mouthed as I got close.
He just shrugged.
“Insomnia?”
That got me a nod.
I lowered myself down to the couch next to him, careful to sit so we weren’t actually touching, but close enough that we could talk quietly and not disturb anyone. “Run of the mill insomnia or prompted by something specific?”
“Your dad asked me to stay,” he said.
I nodded, not pretending like I didn’t know what he meant because of course I would, and I owed it to Dave to be honest about it.
“When we were getting dressed for the show tonight—last night—he pulled me aside and told me he’d like to keep me on.”
“What did you tell him?” I asked, hating how important his answer was to me. Me, the girl who hadn’t wanted to come on tour until she felt like she had no choice. But in that second, I realized it wasn’t just me, Vanessa, friend of Dave, who wanted to know if he was going to stay on because it was a great opportunity for him. But also Vanessa Capri, interim tour manager wanted to know. That girl really wanted him to stay because she knew it was best for the band.
Dave blew out a breath and shoved his fingers through his already messy (and adorable) hair. “I told him I’d take the night to think about it, but between you and me?”
He waited for me to nod as he looked at me pointedly, then, once I did, said, “I’m not going to do it.”
My heart fell into the bottom of my gut. “What?”
“Shhhh,” he said, looking past me toward the bunks. “Don’t wake the beast.”
Of course, he’d been referring to Sandy and I cringed, not having realized I’d spoken so loudly.
I froze for a second, listening, but when there was no crash of a body coming out of the morgue, I knew we were good.
“Sorry. But why?” I asked, barely over a whisper.
“This is all so hard on my mom. She only agreed to it because it was a temporary thing.”
“Agreed to it?” I did a double-take. “But you’re eighteen.”
He sighed. “I know. I realize I can go ahead and sign on if I want and there’s not much they can do. But my dad says she’s really stressed out about me being on tour. She’s so worried about me getting caught up in that life.”
I looked around the bus. “This is hardly the wild and crazy life. You told her that, right? I mean, Tony told her that when you were first coming on board. Wasn’t that enough?”
He shrugged and looked down at his fidgeting fingers. “No. It wasn’t enough. Not after what she—and my grandmother—went through. I mean, she was resigned to it when it was just a couple of weeks but if it was a permanent thing?” He didn’t go on, just shook his head.
“It would be such a waste of your talent,” I said, not wanting to make him feel worse, but I was overwhelmed with disappointment. “You know that, right?”
It was a long time before he looked up at me and nodded. “Yeah. I do know. But I can’t. I can’t do that to her.”
“But if you know in your heart that this is what you’re meant to do, you have to do it.”
He didn’t answer.
“Is this your dream, Dave?”
I held my breath as I waited for his answer but it took him so long to speak that I had to let it out and take another.
“You know...I didn’t think it was. I thought I just liked playing. To be honest?” he said and then laughed sheepishly as he shook his head. “I didn’t think I was that good. I...it sounds stupid and it’s sort of embarrassing, but I didn’t realize how good I was. I thought everyone had the ability I do to play clean the first or second time hearing something.”
“Seriously?” I said with a snort and then covered up my nose with my palm before I went on, lowering my voice again. “You honestly didn’t know how good you were?”
“God, I sound like an arrogant dick, don’t I?”
I grabbed his hand and then let it go once I realized I’d even done it. “Arrogant? I seriously think you’re the exact opposite of arrogant. You are crazy talented. You really didn’t know?”
“I had no way of knowing,” he said. “I mean, I played a bit at school, but I guess I never really had the opportunity to stretch, to work to my potential. I thought it just came easy to me.”
“Your grandfather had to know how good you were.”
“I didn’t feel comfortable playing too much with him until near the end,” he said, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out into sadness. “And by then he was ill, so I’m not sure he would have noticed my skill level. At that point it was more to take his mind off his illness and the fact that he was dying.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, helpless to offer real comfort over his loss. I had a feeling his grandfather wasn’t the only one who had been eager for a distraction, either.
Dave shrugged. “I... you know what would have been cool?”
“What?”
“To have played with him on stage. I mean, I knew all his band’s songs,” he said with a chuckle. “You know, as much as he totally messed up his life, when he would talk about playing back in the day, I saw the light shining in his eyes. He loved it. He lived for it. I bet he never felt as alive as when he was on stage.”
I reached for his hand again and held onto it this time, squeezing it. I gave him a long moment to reflect before I said, “Is that how it is for you?”
He blinked several times before he nodded. Finally he looked up at me, the sheen of tears shining in the muted overhead light. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s how it is for me.”
My heart broke in that moment but at the same time, his words made me determined. “We need to figure out how to make this work for you. I don’t know how, but tell me what I need to do to make it happen.”
He dropped his chin, avoiding my eyes as he blew out a long breath. “The band will manage without me, Vanessa” he said.
I was almost insulted that he thought that’s what I was about. “This isn’t about the band.” When he didn’t look up at me, I reached out and tilted his head up with a finger under his chin, leveling my gaze at him. “This is about you. You following a dream that you probably always had but forced away because of your grandfather and all your family stuff.”
“Nessa,” was all he said, turning his head to the side, wrenching away from my touch as he squeezed his eyes closed.
“You know I’m right.”
Shadows moved across his cheek as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Finally he nodded. “Of course you’re right.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. I’d known I was right but it felt like a victory getting him to agree. A bittersweet one, though. “You have to do this.”
“Stop,” he said, opening his eyes and abruptly turning to look at me straight on. “Just stop, okay?”
“Dave, I...”
He cut off what would have been my apology for pushing him by standing up and walking away without another word before I even realized what he was doing.
Unable to call after him, so as not to wake the rest of the bus, I helplessly watched him stride to his bunk and climb into it, pulling the curtain completely across. Shutting the world out. Shutting me out.
Maybe that hurt more than anything.
After a trip to the bathroom, I decided it was still too early to be up. Okay, and maybe I was feeling a bit sulky about what had just happened with Dave, so I climbed into my bunk and pulled the curtain across.
But I was more bugged than I was tired, so on a whim, I grabbed my phone and turned on the Wi-Fi. Sure enough, there was a text from him.
Sorry. I didn’t mean to run off like that.
I read the message five times, still not knowing how to respond but finally figured being honest was my best tactic. Just trying to help.
I know. And I appreciate it. That’s why I had to bail. I...
I waited.
And waited.
Dave?
...
Why would my wanting to help make you want to bail? I sent.
...
Ugh! Asnswer me!
Great, now you made me make a typo! Jerk!
LOL, sorry, he sent. What you said? About me having to do it. About it being my dream and how you want to make it happen for me?
My heart started pounding hard because I felt something big coming. Wait, are we in the morgue of truth?
Yes, he sent. Ready for some dead serious truth?
No.
Really?
No, not really, I tapped out and sent. Go ahead. But maybe I wasn’t ready for whatever it was because the second I’d sent it, I was sorry. I held my breath as I waited.
And let it out when I got back: You sure? Once I tell you I can’t untell you.
Okay, now I really, really wasn’t sure. But it was too late to backpedal now. You’re freaking me out.
Never mind. Good night, Nessa.
Dave! You can’t leave me hanging like that.
Yes I
...
...
Not funny, boy band.
Sorrynotsorry. :P
You’re deflecting.
Yes.
Now you’re stalling!
Yes again.
?!?!
Never mind, he finally sent. It’s nothing. I was mostly just going to thank you for being on my side.
I had a funny feeling he wasn’t telling the whole truth and that he’d changed his mind on telling me something big. But it’s not like I could force him to tell me whatever it was. And I didn’t really want to. Especially when I felt like I did have an idea what he was holding back.
Probably best he closed that cupboard door back up and throw a lock on it while he was at it—these bunks were small enough as it was. Add in an elephant? Someone was going to get crushed.
So are you going to do it? I asked, because really, that was the most important thing, the thing that had to be what was keeping him up.
It was a long time before I got his response: I don’t know.