May 8, 2018
The boys crowded into the car that was driving them to their house in Los Angeles.
Jonah found himself staring out the window as the vehicle began to move through the streets. His heart was content, at peace. Tour was over, he and his best friends were going home, and he was finally going to have a more routine schedule to talk to Eliska.
He couldn't deny that he felt something for her, he just couldn't quite place what it was.
The day passed at a gloriously slow pace. The boys arrived home, unpacked the suitcases they had been living out of for months, laid on their own beds, and had time to rest without anything ahead looming over them.
As evening was falling over L.A., Corbyn walked into the kitchen to see Jonah lost in thought at the counter, phone in hand.
"Talking to Eliska?" he asked, opening the fridge to grab a water bottle.
Jonah looked at him, nodding. He waited for a moment before saying, "Do you think... what do you think she'd say if I asked for her number?"
Corbyn shot him an incredulous look.
"You're still texting over Instagram?" he asked. Jonah nodded again.
"Well, man... given the fact that you've been talking for what—three weeks?—I think she'd be more than okay with it."
Jonah muttered a response, still unsure. Corbyn found himself smiling a little as he watched his friend. He was always so calm and collected and confident, and to see him in the opposite way over a girl was quite humorous.
"You're so whipped, dude," he chuckled.
Jonah let out a light scoff.
"Three weeks, Corbyn. That's all we've been talking."
"I guarantee it doesn't take three weeks to fall in love," he taunted playfully, breaking into laughter afterwards.
Jonah slid out of his chair, chucking several grapes from the bowl he had gotten out earlier at Corbyn, who attempted to dodge them as he stumbled out of the room, laughing the whole way.
***
Eliska was not one to get nervous, simply because she wasn't usually presented with situations in which she could be, but when Jonah's name popped up on the front screen of her phone to show he was calling her, she decided that that was definitely how she felt. She remembered meeting him the second time and how seeing him had caused nerves to attack her stomach.
"Hello," she said after accepting the call.
"Hey, Eliska."
Hearing his voice and how comfortable he sounded eased her worries, returning her to her usual self.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Well, I was reading before you so rudely interrupted me."
He let out a laugh.
"So sorry. It's all you do anyway. It's good for you to talk to an actual person."
"You are so annoying. And I do talk to people, Marais."
"Excluding your family, name them."
She was silent for several seconds.
"Just you," she muttered in a defeated tone.
"That's alright," he assured her, "I'm pretty cool."
"Humble too."
He laughed again. She continued.
"So, other than arriving home on a post-tour high, what have you done today?"
"Well, I... mostly just worried about how you'd respond to me asking for your phone number." He messed with the hem of his shirt, awaiting her next comment.
She almost smiled at the implied message that he had been nervous to simply ask for her number. She almost told him that he made her nervous too, but she didn't.
She kept it to herself.
