Eight Dollars (Trixya)

Day 7

I had woken up to being intertwined with Brian on the bus' small sofa. Somehow in the night we'd moved from his head on my lap to his head on my chest, our legs tangled together and my arms around his waist. I lay there, slightly squished but undeniably loving it, for a moment, just watching the rise and fall of his peaceful breaths.

This little daydream of a moment was wrecked as Claire wandered out of the bunk area, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you joining me or are you... Busy?"

I wanted to just stay there in that comfy position, but I suddenly became aware of the gnawing need for a cigarette, and I knew I would have to do something about it eventually. The idea of quitting seemed suddenly quite appealing, but I wasn't going cold turkey by any means.

I tried to release myself from Brian's grip, but in the process I woke him, causing him to look up at me with adorably sleepy eyes.

"I didn't want to wake you, but you're kinda on top of me," I told him.

For once, he blushed, and I felt a strange sense of achievement for not being the one with the red face this time. He shifted to sit up, giving a sheepish smile to Claire, which enabled me to grab my coat. We headed out, me looking over my shoulder to smile at the man pulling my spare hoodie over his shoulders.

As the smokers of the tour, Claire and I had taken to standing outside the bus for a morning cigarette together. Unfortunately, this gave her the perfect opportunity to question me whilst I was too reliant on getting my fix of nicotine to run.

"What happened last night? You two were all curled up like that when I was heading in, looking all couple-y and cute," She started.

"We're not... I mean, you know...?"

"Ok then, what's with the money thing? Amy told me about it yesterday," Claire asked as she took a  drag.

"Um, it's just... A thing. It doesn't matter," I fumbled, not really wanting to explain my bizzare reasoning.

"You're not trying to buy Brian like a weird friend prostitute, are you?" Claire confirmed.

"Shit, no!" I shot back, slightly louder than intended. A lone passer-by turned to look at us, and I sank back against the cool metal exterior of the bus a little.

"Ok, good," she nodded, both of us falling comfortably silent as she blew out a cloud of smoke.

"Are you sure he doesn't like you too?" Claire's question had me stumped. Certainty didn't come into it, in all honesty. How could anyone ever know anyone else's feelings?

"I don't know. We're best friends, I don't want to fuck that up," I shrugged.

"I wouldn't give up hope, Brian. If these things are meant to happen, they will, and I have a good feeling about you two," Claire advised, stubbing out the last of her cigarette under her boot before heading back inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts again.