a work of art

chapter 41: i love you

it's not true - tell me i've been lied to
crying isn't like you...
what the hell did I do?
never been the type to
let someone see right through...

The last day arrived.

We cleaned up all our little things out of the bunks. I found one of Claire's rings on our shelf, and slipped it on my finger, nestled beside the one I'd stolen from Billie on our first weekend together.

That same weekend I'd met my sweet Claire.

There were so many people on this tour that the bus felt full as everyone packed up, and it was almost jarring. Hadn't it only been the three of us for one blissful month?

Claire avoided us most of the day, and we let her.

We backed off completely as she gave us the cold shoulder in the green room before and after the show, and when we got back to the last hotel room. A car would come at an ungodly hour to pick us up and take us to the airport, and we weren't sure if she'd even talk to us again before that happened.

Billie and I laid in silence in bed, not talking, not crying. Numb.

At around midnight, she knocked, and Billie ran for the door. She unlocked it, and Claire fell in her arms, sobbing. I watched as they dropped to the floor together in a tight embrace, shoulders shaking.

Our slow motion car crash had officially hit, and the wreckage was more than I could handle.

We spent the rest of the night holding each other, talking here and there about memories that stood out, or things we wanted to do when we got home. None of us slept for even a minute.

On the plane I laid with Claire in her pod, not caring anymore who saw us. I stroked her cheeks, kissed them for 6 hours straight as we flew over an ocean.

She cried silently the entire time. If she dozed off, she'd wake again a short time later with fresh tears pouring down her face.

And I'd whisper, "I love you, I'll miss you, I'll never forget you."

maybe won't you take it back?
say you were tryna make me laugh
and nothing has to change today
you didn't mean to say "i love you"
i love you and i don't want to

In the Boston airport, we were escorted into a private waiting room for our layover between flights.  Normally we would share with Finn and Claudia, but they'd asked for another space. Claudia sensed how messy it'd gotten. And maybe Finn had known all along, through the telekinetic link Billie and he seemed to share.

We went in the room, closed the door, and Billie raced to the bathroom to throw up.

I sat down with a heavy sigh, pulling Claire onto my lap. She heaved and sobbed, then lay still on my shoulder.

"You're not gonna throw up on me, are you?" I whispered.

"No," she said, her voice raspy and thick with tears. "Kiss me."

So I did, though it felt like a knife in the gut to do it. It twisted as she wound her fingers in my hair, and held my face in her hands. Fresh tears poured for both of us.

Billie came out of the bathroom and stood watching us with swollen, red, eyes.

"I feel like I'm dying," she said thickly.

I just nodded, and Claire shuddered.

Billie came and sat at my feet, leaning her head on my knees, on Claire's thighs thrown across my lap. She sagged against us, and Claire ran her hands through her hair.