"Alright, which one of you assholes did it!?"
"Did what?"
"You know what you did!"
You snicker, slinking lower in your bunk, trying to mask your giggles by loudly turning the pages of your book.
You bite your lip, holding your breathe so you won't burst into laughter.
"WHO DID IT!?"
"Dude, what the hell are you talking about?"
Poor Devin, he was oblivious.
Ricky was going to maul him.
You scoot a little closer to the edge of your bunk, peeping around the corner of the curtain to see Ricky standing towards the front of the bus, only half-dressed and ranting.
You'd dyed all of his underwear a nice, bright pink.
Well, it hadn't been intentionally.
Somehow one of your Pink shirts had gotten mixed up with his when you'd all stopped at a laundromat, and, well....
Still, you were cracking up over it.
He would have to wear pink underwear for at least another week or until there was time to stop at a Walmart.
You had been cackling over it all day.
You couldn't help yourself.
It wasn't even that funny, it was just -.
Ricky.
He was hilarious.
"Well someone did it!" You can hear him chirping from the front of the bus. "All of it's pink! All of it!"
"What's pink?" It was Balz confused voice.
"All of it is!"
Wow, who knew Ricky could reach such high octaves?
You chew your lip as you slowly close your book, tucking it down at your feet before slipping out of your bunk, landing silently on your feet.
You can't help but grin.
But you really need to get off the parked bus before Ricky realizes what must have happened and knows it was you.
Because he would.
Eventually.
And you would rather be in a place where you could make a run for it.
You tip toe up behind him, trying to make it where you could just nonchalantly slip past him like you have no idea what's going on and then high tail it for the parking lot. Devin spies your grin, however, as you creep past Ricky, and he gives a rather big sigh.
Ricky's eyes flick suspiciously to you, a light going off.
"You did it, didn't you?" he hisses at you instantly, puffing up. You give him an innocent look over your shoulder as you glide toward the bus door.
He was wearing a low pair of jeans, his belt cinched tightly around his small waist; he'd cut his hair again, so it was only around his jaw, the way you think is the cutest. He had his raccoon eyes going on, and one of his t shirts, although it did look a little wrinkled, as if he'd been sleeping in it.
Chris was doing an interview outside, one of those where they come on the bus and see where everyone's living, so you're hoping you're able to just creep past that as well without being noticed.
