Page 39 of Strum Me

Chapter Fifteen

Emily

There seems to be some sort of major construction going on. And it seems to be going on inside my head.

I try to open one eye, but the construction team seems to have done some work overnight as well, and welded it shut. I try the other one, and I can barely pry it open. It’s enough to let a stream of light in to burn my retina however, and I slam it shut again.

Fine, I’ll just get through the day with my eyes closed then, I think to myself. And even that seems excessively loud.

I grab the edge of the bed to pull myself onto my side.

“Aarrghhhhh,” I groan.

Okay.

That was apparently overly ambitious as well.

There’s a soft sound of movement in the next room, and then a moan that mirrors mine.

Good.

I’m going to need empathy to get through this day.

First things first.

I need to write myself a note.

Tequila. Bad.

Okay, one thing accomplished for the day.

I drag myself into the small shower to try to drown out some of the banging in my head. I feel only marginally better when I get out, but that’s enough to start my search for coffee.

“Ohhhhwhatkillmenowwhoisit?” The response from Hailey’s bedroom is barely above a whisper when I knock on her door.

“Hails, where’s the nearest coffee shop?” I whisper back.

“Why are you yelling at me?” The whisper is still a whisper, but lined with a distinct tone of grump.

“It’s so you can hear me over the jackhammer in your head, Hails,” I explain.

“Ugh, how’d you know about that? And why can’t I turn it off? Anyway, I think there’s one about two blocks to the right. Black, two sugars.”

“Got it.”

I go back down the hallway and am surprised to see Cadence’s door open and her bed made. How can that be? I still have a vague memory of her still up as Brad dragged me to my bedroom and dropped me onto my bed before he must’ve crawled back to his own bus.

I crack open the bus door and the cold air whooshes inside. The chilly wind is actually refreshing on my aching head and I step out into the frosty morning.

Despite my pounding head and the feeling like my eyes are the size of baseballs and covered in sawdust, I feel good. Last night had quickly descended into a night of drunken ridiculousness, but it had broken the ice. Maybe it had been the karaoke, maybe it had been the mini mob chasing us, maybe it was the tequila. Whatever it was, I feel like the guys trust me now, and will stop treating me like an outsider. Anyway, it feels good.

Hailey was right. The coffee shop is about three hundred feet from the bus, which is good because I’m not sure how far I could’ve walked without sustenance.

I scan the menu and it gives me a thought. I order a few coffees for everyone, and offer to pay a bit extra if they can help me bring them back for to the bus. In a special bag, I get them to pack two croissants and a tub of Greek yogurt to share. I wonder if he remembers that this was always our hangover routine. Of course, back then, we were young and hangovers was just a word for “had a big night last night.”

I wander back to the buses with two caramel lattes and the breakfast in hand. I can’t help but feel a little excited to be seeing him, seeing if he remembers. Just as I reach out for the guys’ bus door, it swings open.

“Oh!” I duck out of the way to avoid it hitting me in the face.