I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Fuck. It’s so humiliating on the road. As if Neil would hit me. As if he’d hit anyone.”
He reclines on his side and arches a brow. “You mean other than Andy? That one still doesn’t make sense to me. Neil is a total pacifist and he fucked up Andy good. Anyway, you guys were quiet when I got to your room, so I didn’t knock—you’re welcome, by the way—and I figured Nicole got it wrong and everything was cool.”
I stare at him, hard. “Everything is cool. Nicole definitely got it wrong.”
“I didn’t think he would step out of line with you, but my boy was acting weird last night. Edgy. Going off on everyone.”
I don’t want to think about the events of last night, so I ignore that comment and resolve to focus on my journal. Nate watches me expectantly, takes a sip from the bottle and then starts reading my most personal thoughts again.
We lie together quietly for a while. Nate has been in an unusually talkative mood. I debate with myself whether to ask.
I look over at him. “Why does Josh dislike me so much? Is it just that guy loyalty thing because I broke up with Neil for a while? Or is it something else?”
“Something else.” He turns a page.
I stare at him, impatiently. “Well?”
“I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”
“Too late. You already put yourself in the middle of it with the he doesn’t really hate you comment. You shouldn’t have told me that if you didn’t want me to ask you to explain.”
“Shit. That’s totally fucked-up logic. I’m not in the middle of anything.”
I ease over to lie on my side and stare. Nate breathes in, he breathes out, and then he finally turns to face me.
“Don’t fucking repeat this,” he warns. “It will just cause shit. It will just blow up.”
My eyes widen. “I won’t. I promise.”
“He thinks you fuck up everything we’re trying to do by just you being here. You don’t serve a purpose. You’re not doing anything. You’re not working. You write fucking great words no one will ever hear. You don’t even know why the fuck you’re on the road with us. But everything is different because you’re here and it drives Josh up a wall. Get it?”
I frown. “No.”
He looks agitated. “Everything is different with you here.”
“What’s different?”
“For one thing our press. You get more press than everyone in the band combined, even Neil. You are fucking famous for being famous. It’s really starting to be a problem with Josh.”
I sit up, alarmed. “What are you talking about?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t play dumb, Chrissie. I know you don’t go to the meet and greets, and I know you haven’t been at the press ops, but you must read the press clipping files Neil gets every morning.”
Press clipping file? “No. I don’t read them. Neil doesn’t read them. He doesn’t want either of us to read the press. He says reading your own press fucks with your head. I don’t look at the newspapers. Not ever.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he counters harshly.
“No. Not kidding you. Why do you say it that way?”
Nate frowns. “Neil hasn’t mentioned how the press ops go?”
I shake my head. “No. Why would he?”
“Because every fucking time we sit down with the press, the first question Neil gets is about you. They never ask the rest of the band anything. First question, you can fucking bet on it every time, is something about Chrissie.”
I’m stunned. Oh no, this can’t be true. He’s messing with me. Good one, Nate. Ha, ha, ha.
I settle back against my pillow. “You’re so full of crap. Why do all you guys like to mess with me? It’s not funny.”
“Fine. I’m full of crap, but that’s why Josh is always pissed off at you and working really hard to get Neil to boot you off the road. He’s fed up with the tabloid Chrissie frenzy. He thinks it interferes with what the band is about and what we’re trying to do.”
It is too absurd. Chrissie frenzy. I’m still not sure if I should believe him.
He studies my face for a moment. “It must suck. Being famous for being famous. That must really suck for you.”
“I’m not famous for being famous. I’m not anything. I’m not even a band chick. If I were I’d be screwing all of you.”
His fingers flutter on my stomach. “If you’re interested in becoming the official band girl we can fix that now. Neil’s going to be tied up for a while.”
I shove him hard, nearly knocking him off the bed. “Not a chance. Jeez, you’re obnoxious.”
Nate laughs and I smile.
He tosses my journal at Neil and it lands at his feet. “Why don’t you use those lyrics? They’re probably better than anything you’re thinking up.”
Josh glares at him, but Neil picks up the journal and starts to read.
Nate settles comfortably on the bed, and closes his eyes. “I’m going to sleep for a while, Chrissie.”
In a few minutes he’s sound asleep beside me. I stare out the back window at the passing scenery. I wonder where we are. It’s beautiful here. Who would have thought the United States was so large, so much of it unoccupied by people, and every state different and yet oddly the same at once?
I grab my journal and start to write, then Nate begins to snore. Crap. I crawl over him and leave the bed. I stop next to Neil and drop a kiss on his head.
“Do you know where we are?” I ask.
Neil opens his eyes and looks up. “Sorry. I haven’t been paying attention.”
I shift my questioning gaze to Josh. He ignores me. I move to the front of the bus and sink down until I’m sitting on the floor, my back against the dash console.
Markem glances down at me. “Did I say you could sit there, Miss Parker?”
“Nope, you didn’t but then I didn’t ask. Where are we?”
“South Carolina.”
“Do we have enough time to stop for a while? It’s pretty here and I could use some fresh air.”
He checks the clock. He nods. “For you we can stop. For them, no.”
I laugh. “You don’t really mean that. You like the guys. I can tell.”
He shakes his head and doesn’t say anything, but I can see he has something on his mind he’d like to say. It must be impolite. Markem is never impolite with me so that would be the only reason he’s not speaking what he’s thinking.
I pull myself up. Josh follows my movements with his gaze in a rude manner and, just to piss him off, I sink down on Neil’s lap.
Neil frowns. “You OK?”
I curl into his chest. “I’m good. But I’m tired of listening to Nate snore.”
Neil laughs.
“We’re stopping,” I whisper in his ear.
“Oh, thank you. I am very ready to stop.”
I blush and do an anxious peek at Josh, and I can tell by his expression he’s annoyed with me.
I feel Neil’s fingers move in my hair and close my eyes. His touches get more stirring and he starts kissing me on the neck. I wasn’t thinking about sex when I asked Markem to stop, but everything is suddenly lit inside me.
The bus screeches to a standstill on the side of the road, and everyone stumbles out, anxious for a bit of space from each other.
We scatter in our customary pairings. Neil pulls me by the hand in one direction. Josh and Les take off in the opposite direction with their guitars, to get high and jam together. Pat and Nate hover near the bus, as if they’re worried it will leave without them, tossing a football. And Markem stands at the edge of the road just smoking and staring.
Halfway across the field, Neil lifts me up to carry me, and we are kissing and touching all the way through the meadow of tall grass and wild flowers. We are both impatient in our bodies, out of nowhere. The pulse in Neil’s neck beats fiercely against my lips as I kiss him there. I make a soft bite then run my tongue down his skin. He groans. My muscles clench there in anticipation of making love with Neil in the grass, feeling the wind touching my skin between the play of his fingers, feeling as if there is nothing on this earth but us. Lost in each other in a rural idyll where nothing can hurt either of us.