Page 23 of Before Eve
West comes up behind me. “I’m trying to woo her with my big bad bus.”
The driver waves us on, and I step the rest of the way inside. Couches and individual leather seats line both sides of the bus, some swivel to face each other and others point forward. A full-size kitchen takes up the middle, and a bathroom sits in the back right corner. A person could easily live in this place.
West nods toward the rear. “Head on back to where Simon is.”
No one really acknowledges me or Anne as we make our way all the way to the end where Simon already lounges in a sectioned off quad. I take the seat right beside Simon, and West sits directly across from me giving me nothing to look at but him.
The suited man from the lobby steps outside, now scrutinizing the many buses and vans. I slide down in my seat.
“Where’s Kirstie?” West asks Simon.
“She’s already at the airport. Had to go back to school early. Something about her lab partner dropping the ball on an assignment.”
“That sucks, man.”
“Yeah, it does.”
West settles back, looking straight across at me.
“You guys get a lot of groupies on here?” Anne asks.
A laugh bursts from Simon. “You should see the ones who sneak on. Crazy.”
The bus lurches forward. I stay ducked low as I pull my phone out and check to see if Brynn has messaged me, but she hasn’t.
I need to calm down. I’m safe. I’m on a bus and I’m pulling away, and I’m probably raising suspicion by being all twitchy. That man was probably just curious who we all were. Yes, I’m being paranoid. But even as I tell myself this, trepidation still winds through me, and I leave my phone right on the seat beside me where I can watch if a message comes in.
Anne kicks her legs out into the aisle. “What do you do with the groupies when you find them?”
“Escort them off,” West answers, still staring at me.You okay?he mouths, and I nod.
Anne goes about putting her earbuds in and tuning us all out. Simon slips on a pair of dark glasses and reclines back. Quietness fills our little area filled only by the sound of Anne’s music and the low buzz of talking from other areas of the tour bus.
West pulls out a spiral notebook and begins scribbling. Idly, I watch him.
“Lyrics,” he tells me.
“I’ve always wondered how that happens with you musicians.”
“Well, you’re a musician, too. How does it happen for you?”
“I never thought of myself as a musician. I just strum whatever I feel like strumming. It’s my escape.”
“Mine too.”
We share a thoughtful smile that has me relaxing. “Have you…have you always been so popular, socomfortablearound other people?”
“You should meet my sister. She’sthe popular and outgoing one. Her name’s Vianca. She’s turning fifteensoon.”
“You two close?”
“Yes, we’re close. What about you? Brothers? Sisters?”
“I have a best friend, Brynn, that’s about as close as it comes.” And that’s the first time in over a month I’ve said Brynn’s name out loud.
“Maybe Brynn can visit you this year on tour.”
I nod, even though that can’t happen.
