Luck is on My Side

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Knox’s POV

Fitch went almost skipping out the door, whistling a silly tune.  I swear that guy has got some serious issues.  No normal guy would twirl and skip and whistle like Fitch does.  He is goofy and absurdly hilarious constantly.   I don’t think I’ve seen him frown in all these years that we have known each other while making sweet music for the good people of the world.  Tate and I have conversed about the possibility that he might be gay, but we quickly discontinued the conversation.  If he had something to tell us, he would when he was ready.  

Ginny was watching him walk away from us.  Tate had left, excusing himself to take a quick wash in the slim shower that was in the miniscule bathroom.  You know, for being famous rock stars, our tour bus was really rather small and humble.  It was modest.  I’m not complaining.  The guys and I actually prefer to have less expensive things.  It helps us connect better with our fans, I think. 

Ginny turned around.  She had a strange look on her face, a mix of nervousness and confusion. 

“How is Fitch going to get to the store?” she asked.  Fitch had taken Janet’s jiggling car keys from the counter top.

“Oh, he’s taking Janet’s lorry to the market” I replied.  She tilted her head to the side quizzically, a pout of misunderstanding on her heart-shaped face.

“Lorry?  What’s that?” she asked.  I had forgotten she was American, and they call them trucks across the pond.  Honestly, I had forgotten that I had never met her before today.   I felt like I had known her since the day I was born.  I just accepted her presence like it had always been there, from the beginning.  And hopefully she would be until the end, as well. 

“Oh right, you’re American!  It’s the same thing as a truck.  Our countries just call it two different names for some reason” I said with a friendly, light-hearted shrug.

“Oh! You mean like friends and mates?” she inquired curiously, trying to understand further.

I laughed.  “Yes, exactly like that.  Now you’re getting it!” I said with the same fake, excited happiness that are seen on toddler’s programming like “Dora the Explorer” and “Barney and Friends.”  I even imitated the actors’ high-pitch, annoying voices.  I wasn’t really that good at it.  Maybe I should ask Fitch to teach me later on.  That’s his area of expertise, oddly enough.

“Yay, good for me” Ginny said, her voice saturated with sarcasm.  I always respected people who were gifted with the art of sarcasm because I was sarcastic as well, just one of my many talents.

“Hey now, there’s no need to be sarcastic.  I was giving you a compliment” I smiled at her frustrated expression.  It was interesting how easy it was for me to talk to her and not sound like an idiot, which is what I would normally be sounding like around pretty much any other girl on the planet.  I can barely believe this.

I heard her mumble something unintelligible, but before I could ask her what she had meant, Tate came strolling out in nothing but a towel.  The deep red colored towel was hanging loosely around his hips and left nothing to the imagination.  Tate’s pale skin still dripped water pellets. 

“Tate!” I exclaimed, stepping in front of Ginny.  I shielded her from the bizarre sight in front of me.  She must’ve understood what I was guarding her from because she buried herself deeper into my slim-but-muscular shoulders.

“What?” he asked, clearly confused as to why I was so taken aback by his near nudity.

“Mate, Ginny lives here now!  You can’t just come waltzing in with only a small towel on!” I explained, gesturing the girl who was still cringing, her head nestled in between my shoulder blades.  I thought her innocence, the way she didn’t even want to sneak a glance at Tate, was adorable.  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want her to look either.  But I was pleasantly surprised that she refused to gawk at the “good looking” rock star.  It made her even more special, if that was possible.