Somewhere in the Middle

Ripple Effects

Her curtain was drawn.

So, Jamie didn't take nearly as much care to be quiet as he normally did when he climbed down from his bunk. But even when his feet hit the floor with a dull thump, she didn't stir behind the fabric.

Someone else did though. And Jamie heard the familiar sound of Greg mumbling in his sleep. After the day they'd had today—with Greg basically ignoring him until they hit the stage—Jamie listened carefully, upset to think that he wouldn't hear his friend's voice address him for a while.

Still, Jamie couldn't make out the words. And maybe that was for the best. He didn't want to hear Greg cursing him in his sleep. He'd tried to explain to he and Luke earlier that his night out had been nothing like what they were thinking, and everything that really mattered, but Greg didn't want to hear him.

Jamie couldn't blame him.

But it was 2:30 in the morning, and Jamie still felt guilty. Still felt defensive, too. And still couldn't believe that he'd managed to write something that was more than decent. Luke and Greg would understand soon enough. Once they heard it, once they played it, once they all came together and lost themselves in the swells of the song, Jamie knew they'd understand.

It didn't matter that he'd gotten a song out of his system, though. It seemed his insomnia would be there to stay. But if it had to stay, Jamie was hopeful that he wouldn't have to deal with it alone.

Her curtain didn't move. And the only sound he could hear if he listened long and hard enough was the quiet movement of her breath.

He listened longer than he should've before making his way to the front of the bus and sliding the door to the bunks closed behind him.

Maybe it was better, he told himself. After what he'd seen earlier today, he knew there was no way she wasn't into Lucas. The two of them had been panting. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed, like he—or someone—had just run their fingers vigorously through it. And her eyes—those damn eyes—were brighter than he was sure he'd ever seen them, but at the same time, weighed down by all kinds of guilt.

Not to mention her lips. They were red and ravaged, like the scruff of a beard had destroyed the softness about them. The same something that stabbed at Jamie when he'd seen it, stabbed at him now.

It was better, he thought, and tried to believe it. Besides, if he couldn't look forward to her coming out here with him, he could at least try to pluck out another song.

But when the coffee was brewing, and he sat with his guitar in hand, the melody of the last one just kept playing in his head. And he knew there was only one way to get it out.

His fingers found the strings. And the song found its way from his head and heart into the air around him, swirling with feeling and sound and a light he hadn't seen in a long time.

He didn't even hear the door sliding open, only startled when silence echoed around him once the song was over, and a voice interrupted it, "That was beautiful."

Jamie was smiling before he'd even looked up. "Thanks."

Evie was leaning with one hip against the counter, and her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, her legs long and lean and smooth in the darkness. He wondered if she was wearing a bra. Her curls were a wild mess about her head, but Jamie couldn't believe how endearing an image she was, standing there smiling at him.

"Is it new?" she asked.

"Wrote it last night," he said, setting his guitar down beside him on the couch, trying not to feel self-conscious. Luke and/or Greg were always the first people to hear his songs. He wasn't even prepared to play it for them, let alone her. The person who had inspired it.