I Still Love You

Chapter 2: Love-Game

The road never seemed that endless when it was just the girls.

Now all of a sudden the van, the bigger, much nicer van, was filled with a sticky and uncomfortable tension that couldn't be ignored. I guess it was mostly my fault, seeing as I slept with Eric knowing we'd be basically sharing a living space for the next number of weeks, but I still couldn't help but be annoyed.

Despite my irritation, I was comforted by knowing that we were on our way to a hotel instead of a venue. While the rest of the VIxen girls and the KISS boys were chattering amongst themselves, planning their extravagant night of recklessness and excess, my reveries were filled with nothing but lust for the long night of sleep that awaited me.

I couldn't tell you how long we'd been on the road at that point, but if I had to guess, I'd say too long. Hazel was in the front seat blabbing away with the driver about something that I had absolutely no interest in hearing about, and KISS's managers were in their own personal car following the van. I'd be lying if I said I was envious of them.

But regardless of how I felt about it, I was stuck on the van. I had nothing but a handful of October's magazines and a travel guide to bide my time, and as tempting as a nap was, I knew it'd be much more satisfying to sleep the night in the privacy of a hotel room with an actual bed. Stephanie, who I usually room with, was enthusiastically contributing to the planning of the bands' night out together, so I knew she wouldn't be back to our room until I'd already long since gone to bed.

The sights out of the window were boring; nothing but a never-ending strip of tar decorated by dying wheat grass on either side of it. Still, I found this blasé sight more interesting than the insufferable mumbo-jumbo crammed into the tabloids or the ridiculous garments displayed in the fashion mags.

I let out a huff of perturbed contention each time Laura, who was seated next to me, distractedly nudged me in excitement for whatever nonsense they'd planned for the night. Jessica was on the other side of me, the Pop song blaring from the cheap headphone plugged into her Walkman very clearly audible in the right ear. She only had them over one ear, like a DJ, while her ear closest to the bands was uncovered so as not to miss a single gritty detail. I found myself accompanied by another envy, and made a mental note to pick on up for myself at the next stop.

I couldn't believe I'd thought to bring tapes but nothing to playing them with.

There was lovely slice of time, maybe twenty or so minutes, where I was left to wallow in my self-manufactured misfortune in peace. My attempts to avoid Eric were, I guess by some definition of the word, successful. And by that I mean I've managed to avoid eye contact and I've kept conversation minimal. Eric, on the other hand, seemed to have absolutely no intentions of keeping away from me. He was sat right across from me, and made it a point to frequently give little smirks that I caught out of the corner of my eye.

I resorted to closing my eyes to feign sleep, making sure to keep my mind racing in order to avoid actually driving off. I could never fall asleep on my back, anyway. Everyone continued on with the antics all the same. Speaking over one another and shaking each other by the shoulder each time they had a new idea. If gotten so entranced in my thoughts that I'd managed to completely block out the happenings around me.

The clear chattering turned into muffled jargon and their overly animated movements that rocked the bus became soothing instead of irksome. It was almost as if I wasn't there anymore. In factC I'd gone almost completely unacknowledged for the whole drive up until I felt a familiar hand rest on my kneecap. It shook me gently, as if trying to wake a jumpy infant, but I didn't budge.

"Suzy." A voice spoke. Eric. "Can we borrow the travel mag?"

To keep up with my charade, I didn't respond, making a conscious effort to level my breathing and keep my eyes still under my eyelids. He tried again, whisper-telling my name with a little more urgency, but still, I didn't stir. Finally, after his third unsuccessful attempt, Laura stepped in.