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Eleven
The rest of the week passed by in a blur of gigs, waking up early to go to the gym, and hanging out with Andrew—reluctantly at first, then more willingly. We traveled across three states in five days, and it was then that I realized that I actually hated watching the world pass me by while on a bus.
About a week into our tour, I realized that I wasn’t the only one. Andrew and I were doing our nightly routine of catching up with each other’s lives when Jean Lee plopped between us in a flurry of wayward arms and legs. She wrapped her arms around our shoulders and looked at us in turn. “Andrew, Alicia. How’s my favorite couple doing?”
I rolled my eyes as Andrew chuckled. “We’re not a couple, Jean Lee. Never have been, never will be.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “Y’all bicker like my grandparents, and they been happily married and in love for the last fifty years.” Andrew pressed a smile from his lips as I growled. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I have a preposition. Y’all ready?”
I frowned. “Do you mean a proposition?”
“Same thing.” She grinned. “Y’all ready?”
“Ready,” Andrew said.
“K, so I wanna sleep in a real bed. Not these lofted pieces of shit that Yas has us sleeping in all the time. A real mufuggin bed, ya heard. So my preposition is that we all vote on it in a few minutes, at supper. I know Yas is gon’ vote against it, and so will Philip because he’s stingier than a friend collectin’ on a five-dollar loan. But if y’all vote yes, Kevin’ll do it, and Danny can sleep anywhere but is a fancy-ass dude, na mean? So, what do y’all say?”
“I’m not entirely convinced that you didn’t say all of that in one breath,” I said. “I’m impressed.”
“You in or what, AJ?”
“I’m in.”
Jean Lee whooped and clapped me on the shoulder. “My girl! Andrew?”
His eyes found mine again and I shrugged. He looked toward the rest of the band, assessing. Finally, he looked at Jean Lee. “I’m in.”
Jean Lee grinned and kissed him on the cheek. I frowned as a spike of jealousy hit me square between my shoulder blades. Calm down, Ace. He’s not yours.
“I knew y’all were my favorite couple,” she said. I groaned as Andrew laughed. She stood up and stretched. “Let’s get ourselves some real beds!”
As Jean Lee predicted, she won the vote. Danny grunted in approval. “Praise Jesus,” he muttered. “A real bed.”
“You all are whining about not sleeping in a ‘real bed’ and we’ve only been on the road for a week,” Philip said. “What’s gonna happen when we’ve been on tour for a month?”
“We’ll think about that when we get there,” Jean Lee said. “Or when we get to the hotel and are snug as a bug in a rug in our nice, comfortable beds.”
Yasmine sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hope for your sakes that this doesn’t cost too much. It’ll cut into our profits, entienden? The more we spend on hotels and fancy meals and shit, the less money we all make at the end of the night.” I could barely hear her over the chants of, “Bed! Bed! Bed! Bed!” Philip shook his head and sighed. Andrew smiled.
“Alright, alright,” Yasmine said. “Let’s find a hotel.”
Three hours and several booked hotels later, we came to a motel with a bright red neon sign. Manny’s, the sign read. $60 a night, no hidden fees.
“Do motels usually have hidden fees?” Kevin wondered. “What are the fees for?”
“Who knows?” Danny grumbled. “That’s why they’re hidden.”
“Cool it, bro,” Kevin responded. He held up his hands. “We get beds tonight; isn’t that all that matters?”
“Exactly,” Jean Lee chimed in. She pumped a fist in the air. “Bed! Bed! Bed! Bed!”
“Well hopefully, these beds that you’re so looking forward to don’t have bed bugs,” Philip said over the din. “I don’t want any of that shit on the bus.”
“So optimistic,” Jean Lee said.
“Maybe once you have your head on a real pillow, you’ll relax,” Kevin chimed in.
“He needs something else to relax.” Danny smirked. Hoots and lewd gestures went up all around. Jean Lee made a thrusting motion with her hips and stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth. Philip rolled his eyes; Andrew’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
