Encounter

Encounter

Ian and I shared a bunk again that night. And so maybe it wasn’t the most romantic of situations—partly, but not wholly, because Adnan was scant feet away, snoring like a bear—but it was progress. We were together again, and Ian kissed me soundly before we went to sleep.

And I knew a relationship wasn’t all about the sex or about the exciting times or the events, but there had to be some degree of these things. There had to be some sort of physical manifestation of his feelings. There had to be some amount of time dedicated to a show of care.



And, just to make things feel that much more perfect, Ian didn’t have practice until later in the afternoon. So he didn’t bother me by climbing out of bed at seven in the morning—I was awake, yes, but he wasn’t, and we just laid there and lay there and lay there, and it was so damn comfortable until nearly ten in the morning.

Thing That Disturbed Us:
My phone rang. It was Keeley.
“Sloan, can you help me practice? Apparently Hank has taken up with some girl and that’s why he hasn’t been around at all. When I find out who she is, I’m going to kill her. Maybe that’s why he isn’t telling us who she is. I bet Craig knows, though. So come over as soon as you can, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled into the phone. I had been awake, sure, but I hadn’t really been anticipating anything—maybe I’d more accurately been half asleep. More than that, I’d been enjoying being half asleep. “I’ll be there in like ten minutes, okay?”With a groan, I rolled out of the bunk.

“Perfect,” chirped Keel. She was far, far too awake for this time of morning. It was disgusting.

“Bye.” I snapped the phone shut and stood.

My departure woke Ian up. “Where are you going?” he asked, rubbing his hand over his face.
His hair was sticking out at odd angles. I reached over and smoothed them down; he grabbed my hand as if to stop me from going.

“I have to go help Keeley with something,” I told him softly. “I’ll be back before you have to go to practice, okay?” Instead of answering, he rolled over so my hand was trapped beneath him and I had to sit on the edge of the bed again. “I have to go.” I tried to tug my hand free.

His voice was stifled by the pillows. “The one time I’m not busy, you have someplace to be. I say we forget them all and run away to Malaysia. What do you think of Malaysia, Sloan?” But he did let go of my hand. I was touched. Quickly and quietly, I put on a bra and a shirt. Keeley could deal with my sweatpants. I didn’t care.

I kissed the back of his head. “We’ll go to Malaysia when I get back, okay? You go back to sleep.”

He sighed, but turned over to kiss me for real. “Fine.” He started to watch me go with those big green eyes, but they were closed by the time I left.

Something tangible had changed, here. Something was different than it had been in the past month or so. Maybe it was because we’d had that fight—it was probably because we’d had that fight. Maybe it wouldn’t last—it probably wouldn’t last. But right now everything seemed so perfect. I didn’t want to ruin it by thinking of the future.

The festival was busy, even at this time of the morning. Somewhere off in the distance there was a line of teenagers waiting to be admitted, ready on coffee and adrenaline and excitement. In the other direction, cooks were making breakfast, maintenance was setting up stages, and musicians were practicing. Musicians were always practicing around here.

I entered the trailer without knocking. In the middle, Keel was setting up the keyboard, plugging it into the wall and the long extension cord. On either side of her, Dave and Kyle were still sleeping. Hank was apparently with his girl and, well, I’d never seen Craig without Hank, nor Hank without Craig. I wondered how uncomfortable that made whatever romance was happening on that end.

“Keel,” I whispered, “we can’t do that in here if they’re sleeping.” Kyle rolled over in his sleep, attracting my attention. Oh. Damn.

Aw, hell. Somehow I had managed to forget, in the perfection of the morning, all that had gone down yesterday—or, rather, I hadn’t precisely forgotten it. I just hadn’t been thinking about it. And Keeley would think it weird if I made a big deal about not waking him up, and Kyle would think it was weird if I didn’t make a big deal about not waking him up, and everyone would think it was weird if I sat anywhere except Kyle’s bed, because that was always where I sat when I played the piano for Keel.

I hadn’t anticipated this level of mind-trip complication when I’d done what I’d done—I couldn’t even stand to put it into words. Let it stand at implication. God, this was insane. I should have thought first. Shit. Crap, hell, damn, fuck. I was turning into Adnan.

Like, how was I supposed to act around him now? Were we supposed to do it again? Should yesterday have been a one-time event? Jesus freaking Christ this sucked.

So I just sat down on Kyle’s bed like I always did, perching precariously on the end to avoid his feet—he wasn’t quite as tall as Ian, but he was still tall enough that he took up almost all of the little tiny bunk—and followed orders. It was always just easier to follow orders.

Still, I played softly. Keeley had no such compunctions, and sang as if she would never get the chance to sing again. After several bars, Dave rolled over and tried to hit Keel with his pillow. Unfortunately for him, she had many, many more objects within her reach and, being awake, had significantly better aim. She hit him right between the eyes with a cheap romance novel—luckily for Dave, it was a paperback.

Kyle didn’t even open his eyes. “Keeley,” he threatened in an ominous tone. “If you do not shut up this very instant, I am going to kill you. I am going to shove a drumstick down your throat and another up your ass and I am going to push them together until they touch. Hopefully I’ll get some sort of goop to shoot out your eyeballs.” Keeley was just singing over his threats, so I kept playing. “Now, I’ve wanted to do this for some time, but if you shut up right freaking now, I will find someone else to torture. You’ve got five seconds.” When we didn’t finish within five seconds, he pulled the pillow over his head and curled into a ball, as if that could block out the noise. I didn’t mind—I shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed.

When we were done with the bars Keel had wanted to practice, she beamed. “That was highly effective,” she informed me. “I particularly enjoyed the part when I got to hit Dave. What was your favorite part?” This was classic Keeley, treating everything like a game that she was perpetually winning. That girl would have been extremely annoying to play Trouble with. I always lost at Trouble.

“Probably when Kyle said he was going to shove a drumstick up your ass,” I replied after a moment’s consideration. Turning to the offender himself, I tapped an unidentifiable lump in the blanket; I had no idea which, precisely, part of his body I was touching. Not that it particularly mattered. “That was extremely graphic.”

A long arm snaked out from under the covers and shooed my hand away. “It’s too early, Sloan,” the lump muttered. Note, if you will, that he didn’t make any attempt to threaten me. I noticed. “Go away and come back in three hours.”

I looked at Keeley, who was grinning ruefully. “Not really morning people, are they?” I asked innocently. Now I was a player in the game, too. I had to admit, it was kind of fun to mess with them like this. Playful and teasing—we never did this as a group with my friends.

“Not really.” She shook her head with mock sorrow, even though only I could see the show she was putting on. Neither of the boys had deigned to open their eyes yet. That was probably why Dave’s pathetic head shot had failed.

I sighed, and leaned on the piano keys loudly. Kyle’s exposed arm flapped at me halfheartedly. If nothing else, that boy made me chuckle. “I can’t blame them, really,” I added as my partner in crime laughed heartily and silently. It was all part of the game. “I’m kind of tired myself. I wouldn’t mind going back to sleep, now that I’ve had my morning music session.”

Keel wrinkled her nose. She really was pretty. “Personally,” she drawled evilly, “I think we should vacuum a little in here first. It’s kind of messy. I have a little handheld one.” She jumped up on Dave’s bunk. “What do you think of that, sweetheart?” She patted his leg. Truly we were cruel.

“I think it’s a good idea,” I offered.

More quickly than I would have believed possible, particularly in a half-asleep state, Kyle sat up, grabbed me around the waist, and pulled me down beside him. I tried to pull free, but he had an iron-tight grip on my waist. “There will be no vacuuming.”

“Let me go,” I protested. So this was how it was going to be, then? Apparently touching was acceptable in this new relationship we had. Splendid.

“No.”

With this exchange, Dave seemed to get some ideas. He grabbed Keeley both by the arm and waist; she resisted but little as he dragged her under the blankets with him. Across the aisle, we stared at each other. She shrugged, as if to say, “Well, what are you supposed to do?”

Kyle pulled me in more tightly, hugging me to him like some giant, animated teddy bear. It was comfortable and intimate and disturbing and I couldn’t help but think of Ian, sleeping alone in our bed not a quarter of a mile away, assuming that my thoughts and heart were completely absorbed in him. “Kyle,” I said again, “let me go.”

His answer did not change. “No.”

“You can’t just expect me to lie here,” I complained. I had promised Ian I would get back to him, hadn’t I? He had time off, and he rarely had time off, and even though that seriously made me angry, I still wanted to make the best of the time we did have. I wasn’t in love with Kyle.

But I was very comfortable with lying there, and Keel was sure getting into her half of it, closing her eyes and tucking the blanket up around her chin. It was, in a word, adorable.

His breath in my ear surprised me, but not wholly in an unpleasant way. “Just go to sleep, then,” he suggested quietly. With his other hand, he pulled me into the blanket. It was warm under there, almost too warm in my sweatpants, but not quite enough to be completely
uncomfortable.

And so I did. It was, I would realize later, belatedly, as I was walking back across the
grounds—back to Ian’s note that said practice had been pushed up a few hours, but that we would definitely have tonight together, and was I good for dinner in town tonight?—the first time I had technically slept with Kyle. We hadn’t done it privately, and it hadn’t been sexual. But it hadn’t been entirely been platonic, either. By God, but things were getting complicated anymore.