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NOTE: Told from Chris's POV. TOTALLY LAME-O.
I zipped my jacket up as far as it would go, cursing at Guy heatedly. The snow was coming down in sheets – wall after wall of wet, cold whiteness. It was piled on the ground nearly up to my ankles already, and it wormed its evil way into my sneakers and melted on my formerly warm and dry socks.
“Fucking hell,” I hissed as I fastidiously yanked open the hood of the old Buick. It coughed and sputtered again, and I leapt back. I could hear Will having a laugh at my expense from inside the warmth of the car. I gave him the finger, but he only laughed harder.
It must’ve been something like twenty, fifteen degrees out. The snow was relentless, and we were on some stupid dirt road that was covered in ice and our only means of transportation in this God-forsaken tiny little town that I had never even heard of – nearly 90 miles west of Bath – had just crapped out on us, and the other three wankers had sent me out to see what the hell was wrong. As if I knew a bleeding thing about cars.
I squinted through the torrent of snow and shook my head at Guy. “What’m I looking for?” I shouted. He turned his hands palm-up, as if to say, “How the fuck should I know?”
Well, thank you, Mr. Resourceful.
I sighed dramatically and shivered inside my coat, cupping my hands over my mouth and blowing my breath over my freezing fingers. Not much help.
I heard the car door open and slam, and Jonny clambered through the snow and joined me. I huddled close to him, but he shied away.
“Out of my way,” he said gruffly. “Get back in the car, you fool, you’ll freeze.”
I wanted to kick him for being such an uptight bastard but I doubted I could kick very hard anyway on account I couldn’t really feel my toes. So I dove back into the car and buried my hands into the warmth of my jacket. The heat trapped in the car was fading, but our collective body heat had fogged up the windows.
“Think he’ll be able to fix it?” I asked after my teeth stopped chattering.
“He fucking better,” Will retorted. I squinted out through the snow. Jonny seemed to certainly know what he was doing.
“We’re gonna be really late,” Guy mourned. I slapped his shoulder, annoyed.
“At least we get there at all,” I told him. “I’d much rather be late than freeze to death on this little hick-town road.”
Guy shrugged and pointed at Jonny. “Looks like he’s done it.”
Jonny slammed the hood and gave Guy a signal. He turned the key, and the engine whined and coughed once or twice, then turned with a satisfying roar.
“All right then!” I cheered, then leaned over and turned up the heat as far as it would go.
Jonny heaved himself into the car, bringing a sweep of cold air. Will, Guy and I congratulated him, but he just shrugged it off and brushed snow from his jacket.
I eyed him in the rear view, wondering just what exactly had gotten into him. I knew something odd was going on, but I couldn’t put my finger on it – which was worrisome. Jonny was not an extremely complicated guy. He had his moods, but they were easily readable. I mean, if eyes were windows to the soul, then Jonny’s eyes were like six-foot bay windows. You could see anything in them, and that’s why he was more of a relief to be around. Will was just a flat line, and Guy was always smiling. You couldn’t see past their masks. But Jonny wasn’t afraid to open his heart.
But lately, it seemed as if he was afraid; he hadn’t talked to me in weeks. He hadn’t talked to anyone in weeks. He was less cheery, more awkward, more businesslike, less… well, less Jonny-like. And it bothered me, because he had always been the shoulder I would lean on. Except now he treated me like some unwanted burden.
But was that what he really felt?
Because certain things he had said to me… the way he sometimes looked at me… Sometimes he would convince me completely otherwise: that he loved me, that he would die for me, that he would spend the rest of his life by my side. But the way he was acting towards me now certainly didn’t seem like it.
I remembered back a few months, to the night I had spent in his arms. That was when I knew something other than friendship was growing – but had I been wrong?
Jonny must’ve thought I was asleep, otherwise he never would have gathered me in his arms as tenderly as he did, or kissed me on the head, or lay down with me as if we were an old married couple. And I couldn’t figure it out – I couldn’t tell from the way he acted if he remembered it or was trying to forget it. And I didn’t know how I felt about it at all. And I couldn’t ask him; that would be too awkward.
I nearly kicked the dashboard in frustration. Guy gave me an odd sideways look.
“Chris? You okay over there?”
I rubbed my eyes wearily. “I’m fine, mate. Sorry. Just… a little stressed out.”
“S’okay.” He patted my shoulder. “We’ll be there soon. We’ll play, mingle a bit, and then get some sleep.”
Play, mingle a bit, then go to some hotel and fall asleep in stiff, foreign beds. Wake up, drive in ice and snow and bitter cold to our next gig, play, mingle a bit, and go to another nondescript, unremarkable, bland hotel and fall asleep again in boxy, squeaky beds. I couldn’t hold back the heavy sigh. When had I become so depressing?
Jonny must have known what I was thinking, because he reached forward and squeezed my other shoulder. That one touch gave me all the comfort I needed. When he took his hand away, there was a cold spot, and I rubbed it a little. I wanted to thank him or something, but that would seem odd, so I tried to catch his eye in the rearview mirror. He wouldn’t look at me.