III - Opposites Attract

The bus is sitting alone the the parking lot. It's chugging- a mechanical beast to bring us all over the country. I walk on and Jonah's lying there on the ground laughing like an idiot with Aaron planting a foot on his chest. I walk past them and into the bunks. "Help me, fuck," I hear behind me but I just climb into my bunk and curl up bracing the side. In a few minutes the bust starts up and it drives. It was waiting for me. But nobody says a word. I just hope to God she's gone.

* * *

I wake up the same I did yesterday but to Jonah's hand gripping my neck. I jump and he laughs pulling open my curtain. "What's up pretty boy?" He asks. The 'pretty boy' pet name needs to stop but I just roll my eyes and shove him away reaching to close my bunk again. "Want Subway?" He asks. "Some of the Owen guys and Paul and shit are walking. I'll get you your usual?"

I shrug. "Sure," I say. I pause looking at him. "Thanks."

"I'll put it in the fridge too," He says slapping my cheek teasingly. "Right after I go on the message board and rant about how much of a dick you are. I mean, even Owen can ger his own fucking sandwich- he doesn't send his rhythm guitarist to do it for him."

I close my bunk and curl up against the side. We've landed. A city away from her. A state possibly too but I don't bother looking at the dates. It's a Tuesday. And it's some day in March. In twenty minutes I get up and walk to the back lounge. The bus is silent. I'm completely alone. I look at the guitar case- strapped to the wall with a bungee chord. I look at it for a few minutes and then walk over and touch it. The case, and I find myself a minute later with a guitar in my arms. It sits awkwardly but grows more comfortable.

I play a C-chord. A G-chord. Then I play chords I made up. Paul told me their names when I was in high school- which seems so much more than three years ago. I freeze and stare at my hands watching them move. My fingers hitting each chord gently. It's her song. I couldn't remember it last time I was alone and with a guitar. It was when Sarah went to school one morning a week ago.

I do try to write music again but they are all covers and rip-offs of other bands and Red Letter Day. I try. And I stare at my hands like they are fucking ghosts. Then I swallow and try again. That song comes out effortlessly. I play it. Strumming it and remembering it. The words. I wish I named it something better but the name is simple.

Sitting here is making me nauseus. I put down the guitar and stare at it. I'm a lost cause. They're going ot have to rely on outside people to write songs which will make Paul quit the band. He would never put up with that shit. Then everyone else would. Without Paul we probably have nothing else. Maybe a few years ago we could have survived losing Paul, but I'm fucking useless without him.

In twenty minute he comes up and finds me. "You writing?" He asks.

"Stop fucking asking if I'm writing." I said under my breath. I sat back and let the guitar sit. He walked over and got a tape and handed it to me. "I wrote some chords," He said. He doesn't listen or he ignores me. "Listen to them. I really like them. If you do then I'll bring it to the guys."

I nod and take it. I walk back to my bunk and toss it in climbing in after it. I lie in my bunk until Paul comes by and gets me for soundcheck. You can tell he just talked to Rain because he has energy. He horses around and gets me out. At soundcheck he starts plucking out Oasis songs. I look back at the guys. We have a lot of time to soundcheck.

"'Opposites Attract'!" Aaron yells out and James and Jonah and him simutaneously start playing Paula Abdul. I smile and look at them. Paul rolls his eyes and tunes his guitar as Jonah starts belting out the chorus and dances around like the fucking animated cat.

They stop when the sound guy flips the shit. "Sorry," I say into the mic smiling still. They do that all the time to piss Paul off. Or the sound guy. I think it's hilarious like Johnny. Suddenly from the sides I see her. She's standing leaning onto her hand listening to us. She looks at me. Still here. She's frozen. And she lifts her hand in a wave. I nod and look ahead quickly. I fix my mic. And after threatening another Paula Abdul cover we finish up and I get the hell out of there.

She's still here. I feel ready to collapse because of this. Why is she still here?