44 | Eagle Sighting

4.8K 244 118
                                    


Sleep didn't come easy to Joanna, and Rosalie could tell within ten minutes of the ride. She fidgeted, twisted, rearranged herself until she ended with her coat hood over her face, arms crossed, legs crossed. Even then, it only lasted a few minutes before she threw her jacket down in a fit, pouting. Rosalie only knew this because she was staring, and Joanna caught her then and there with a scowl on her face.

"What," Joanna hissed.

"It just... seems like you're struggling," Rosalie said, biting back a smile.

The bus shifted, rumbling through the intersection and onto the freeway ramp. As the bus turned, they all swayed, and Rosalie heard something fall from the overhead cubby farther back. Joanna turned to look, but stopped when Rosalie said, "You can lean on me. If you want."

Rosalie watched Joanna's expression despite how desperately she wanted to look away and hide the blush that crept onto her cheeks. Joanna opened her mouth, but when nothing came out, she snapped her teeth together and looked down at the armrest between them. Rosalie all but floundered to lift it, and in doing so, broke their eye-contact complete. When it was up, she settled in, eyes forward, and remained that way until she felt Joanna shift to remove her headphones.

She felt Joanna's hair before the weight of her head settling on her shoulder. It was soft, and reminded Rosalie of the evening they spent watching Animal Planet videos in her bedroom, lounging on the pillows. Rosalie swallowed hard, shoulders tense as Joanna pressed her cheek into the knitted fabric of Rosalie's sweater. When Rosalie took a deep breath in, she picked up on the faint sent of something sweet—not quite Joanna's hair, but something in her essence that came from spending time in an area for so long. The smell of her home, a place Rosalie never set foot in. The aroma was warm, like autumn, and calming enough that on her exhale, she began to relax.

Joanna shuffled until her head was nestled up against Rosalie's neck. She continued to rustle around, arms crossed, arms down, hands on her lap, hands over her stomach. Eventually, Rosalie groaned and pulled away to say, "Are you gonna quit squirming anytime soon?"

Joanna groaned and stretched her arms out. She squeaked as she reached them high in the air before saying, "I think I could sleep if only... someone would put their arm around me..."

"I didn't peg you as passive-aggressive," Rosalie said. She wiggled her arm out from between them and reached it back behind Joanna's head. She flicked Joanna's hair out of the way before letting her wrist fall to Joanna's opposite shoulder.

With Rosalie's arm around Joanna's shoulders, it was difficult for Joanna to squirm like before. Within five minutes, Rosalie felt the weight of Joanna's head against her own increase, and she realized that Joanna was completely fast asleep. Even with the noise of conversation behind them, Joanna managed to catch a glimpse of sleep and stick with it.

When Joanna stirred as the bus descended from the exit ramp in Baltimore, Rosalie hadn't realized that she, too, fell asleep. She had succumbed to a shallow sleep, eyes closed, assuming that only five minutes had passed. In that time, she had managed to forget that her arm was around Joanna, and when the two of them straightened, she had to face the question of whether or not to keep her arm there until they arrived at the athletic complex for team check-in.

Joanna brushed her hand off, though, and said, "You're relieved from your duties."

"Wow, thanks," Rosalie huffed. She stretched her arm out in front of her, loosening the tension from the ache in her elbow. "You make it sound like a job."

As the bus passed the Loyola University sign, the glass shining with fresh rain, Rosalie pulled her phone from her pocket and found several texts from Ray waiting for her. She caught a glimpse of Joanna's name on the screen, and spared a second to make sure Joanna wasn't looking at her screen before reading the rest of what Ray had to say.

Mark My WordsWhere stories live. Discover now