I Have Been Right All Along

SARA'S POV

“Can’t sleep again?” I ask from my bed, turning towards Brendon who has just walked into my bedroom.

“How’d you guess?” he asks, trying to be serious, but the expression on his face was more or less amused.

“It’d be safe to say that I’m just a really good guesser,” I say, watching Brendon walk over to my bed, taking a seat on the edge, just like last night.

“I noticed you didn’t drink any of the Red Bull you just had to have today,” I mention, causing Brendon to smile and look at me with a mischievous face.

“I thought I’d spare you two tonight,” he says, making his voice deep. I laugh and shoot him a confused face.

“Spare us?”

Brendon nods, still staring at me like a total creeper for a few seconds before he goes back to looking like the normal Brendon.

“Yeah, I just get really hyper and talk a lot. I’m annoying and hard to deal with on normal terms and Red Bull amplifies it. I thought I’d at least give you two a few more days of a regular dose of Brendon,” he says, letting out short breath.

I laugh outwardly at how ridiculous he just sounded, but I believe him.

“So tell me about yourself. I feel kind of weird that I’ve let you sleep in my bed last night and I don’t even know you that well…or at all,” I say, sitting up and leaning against my pillows.

Through the darkness of my room, I notice how Brendon’s face looks in the pale moonlight shining outside through my blinds. I notice the squared off, chiseled shape of his jaw line and the plumpness of his pouty lips. I even notice the slight chubbiness of his cheeks when he smiles and how the light gleams off his dark eyes as he turns to look at me.

“My name is Brendon Boyd Urie. I am 21 years old. I’m from Las Vegas, Nevada and I was born and raised in a Mormon household, but I’m not Mormon anymore. I have a big family and I love kids, but not in the pedophile kind of way. I was kicked out of my parents’ house when I told them I was going to join a band instead of going to college and doing work for the church. I used to work at a smoothie hut and do land surveying. I play all kinds of different instruments but I’m not particularly good at any one of them. I used to smoke pot in high school, but I won’t tell you if I still do. I love Red Bull and I like to drink, but I’m not an alcoholic. I’m hard to deal with and I’m annoying and I’m never getting married,” he says, finishing up with a smile.

“What about you?” he asks, eyeing my face as I try to take in the load of information he just dumped out.

“Well I’m definitely not saying it all tonight because it’s a lot, but I’ll just give you some basics,” I say, taking in a deep breath.

“What I said about myself was definitely the Spark Notes of my biography,” he says before I can even begin talking.

“Yeah, good point. Anyway, here is my biography’s Spark Notes,” I say, preparing once again. He keeps his gaze on me, waiting.

“My name is Sara Jean Kline, I’m 20 years old. I’ve lived in Franklin, Tennessee for five years and I’ve been best friends with Hayley the whole time. I am usually an outgoing person; it’s easy for me to make friends, but the friends that I get super close to are few and far between. I used to work at Barnes and Noble until a few days ago because I’m going on tour with Hayley. I don’t really have much else to say at the moment, but I’m sure if we keep this up and become friends, you’ll find out about my family and of my past before the five years I’ve been in Franklin.”

Brendon nods before letting out a yawn, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at the floor.

“So why did you decide to drop everything and go on tour?” he asks, looking over at me.

“Because I would love to travel; I’ve never been able to on my own and this tour was the perfect opportunity. I want to see the country, even if it is only from a bus window or a venue’s back parking lot; even a hotel window. I just want to get out of this town for a while; see new and fresh surroundings. I feel like I haven’t been able to really see this country and I’m ready to change that. What better time than now? I may not get another chance.”

“You know, I never thought about that. I realize that I take touring for granted; not that I don’t appreciate being able to play music and travel, I just never thought about other people wanting to travel but not being able to.”

I just nod, not knowing what to say. Brendon sits there in thought, staring across the room. I slide down into the covers, feeling that all too familiar feeling of tiredness. I turn over on my side, facing the same way Brendon is, which is backside towards the wall. We don’t say anything for a while and my eyes eventually start to close.

“I’ll show you around on some of the stops on tour. I’ll show you some places I’ve found when wandering around before shows,” he says quietly. I open my eyes slightly, smiling at him.

“Sounds like a plan,” I say quietly. I’m not even sure he hears me, but the way his smile glistens in the moonlight tells me he did.

“I’ll let you sleep,” he says getting up from the bed and reaching his arms above his head to stretch, causing his shirt to ride up revealing his pale, mostly flat stomach. I quickly avert my eyes once I realize that I’m staring at his body. Thankfully he’s too busy stretching and yawning to notice me checking him out. I don’t even know why I’m checking him out. Creepy.

“Goodnight,” he says quietly as he leaves my room. I am too overwhelmed with drowsiness to wish him a good night before he leaves my room.

“Sara Jane!” Brendon yells from the couch, Red Bull in hand as I walk out from my bedroom a few days later.

“Brendon Boyd! How’s that Red Bull?” I ask as I walk around the couch, sitting down next to Brendon.

“Almost gone,” he says, shaking the can at my face. I move my head sideways slightly so he doesn’t hit me in the face with it.

“Tour starts tomorrow. Are you excited?” I ask, trying to ignore the constant shaking of his foot, which is shaking the entire couch.

“Definitely, definitely,” he says, nodding his head rapidly before drinking the rest of his Red Bull.

“Where’s Hayley?” I ask, not sure where she is since I’ve been in the bathroom getting ready for the day for about an hour.

“I don’t know. Said something about being back soon. I don’t remember where she said she was going,” he says, keeping his eyes glued to the TV. I look over at the TV as I, myself, want to know what’s more intriguing than the current conversation I’m trying to lead.

“What are you watching?” I ask, wondering why there are British band guys on TV.

“Spinal Tap. Best movie ever.”

I let out a short laugh.

“This looks stupid to me,” I furrow my eyebrows at the TV.

Brendon quickly turns to me, glaring.

“I’m afraid we can’t be friends,” he says in all seriousness.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. We can’t be friends because I think this movie is stupid,” I laugh, staring at Brendon.

He stares back for a few moments before shrugging and turning back to the TV.

“We’ll see how ridiculous it sounds when I stop talking to you and you just can’t stand it,” he says smugly, earning a backhanded slap in the arm from me.

“Ow, what was that for?” he whines, holding his upper arm where I slapped him.

“You planning on not talking to me! I thought we had something!” I yell, getting upset while saying the last sentence, though I’m only joking.

“I was just joking, Sara!” he turns to me, the pitch in his voice rising a few notches. “I didn’t mean it! We’re friends!”

“Woah, a little high strung there, Urie. Can’t make jokes or take jokes,” I laugh, patting the top of Brendon’s head lightly as I get up from the couch to head to the kitchen. He watches me do so, pouting at me the entire time.

“I can make jokes and I can definitely take jokes,” he says defensively, standing up from the couch to follow me into the kitchen.

“Whatever you say,” I lean over and peer into the fridge, looking for something to drink. I notice the last Red Bull and decide to prove to him that he can’t take jokes.

“Oh sweet! The last Red Bull!” I grab the Red Bull and shut the fridge, turning to Brendon with a huge grin on my face.

Brendon’s eyes are huge as he stares at the can, his mouth hanging open slightly. I slowly inch my fingers towards the tab, ready to pop it open any second.

“I can’t wait to drink this,” I say seductively, keeping my eyes on Brendon and my laughter held in. He flicks his eyes to mine.

“You’re not really going to drink the last one, are you?” he says innocently, looking anxious.

“Are you opposed to the idea?”

He looks from my face to the can several times, not answering.

“But I’m so thirsty, Brendon. I love Red Bull. You could be a kind gentleman and let me please have the last one. You would do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

He stands there for a few moments, thinking about his answer while my fingers still linger over the tab of his last Red Bull. His mouth slowly turns into a pout, and I decide to put an end to my nasty little joke.

I remove my fingers from the tab and walk towards Brendon, holding the can out to him when I reach him. He looks at me, puzzled.

“I just proved you can’t take jokes,” I laugh as he takes the can. I walk out into the living room just as Hayley walks in the front door.

“Where were you?” I ask in a motherly voice, placing my hands on my hips.

“That was a joke?” Brendon asks loudly from the kitchen, unaware that Hayley has returned.

“What is going on?” Hayley asks, amused as she stands by the front door.

“Where were you?” I ask again, ignoring her question.

“I went to see my parents for a while. We’re leaving in the morning and I needed to talk to them about taking my car back here after we leave…and I just wanted to see them. What’s going on?”

“Oh. Nothing. Just messing around with Brendon,” I let my hands fall to my sides and turn around, quickly coming into contact with Brendon’s torso.

“Woah, hey,” I say, holding up my hands as I back up, looking at Brendon who is sipping on the Red Bull.

“Hayley, do you think I can take jokes?” he asks, sounding really concerned. I laugh, letting my hands fall down at my sides again. I turn to Hayley, who is still standing in the same spot she was.

“Why do you ask?” she says, trying to hold in her laughter. Brendon is quick to reply.

“Well Sara says I can’t take jokes, but I think I can.”

“He can’t,” I say, shaking my head at Hayley before turning back to Brendon.

“You can’t; you didn’t,” I shrug my shoulders.

“I’m going to go pack,” Hayley laughs, walking towards her bedroom.

“So you were really kidding with me about drinking my last Red Bull?”

“I sure was,” I say, smiling at him. He shakes his head and sighs.

“I’ll get you back for this. I’ll prove that you can’t take jokes,” he says, taking a big swig of Red Bull.

“We’ll see about that,” I say smugly, walking away to Hayley’s room.

“Hayles!” I yell in her doorway, looking in as she packs up a suitcase inside.

“Sare! Get in here. I want to talk to you,” she says, motioning for me to come inside.

“Do you want me to shut the door?” I ask, pointing my thumb out towards the door. She nods and I turn around and shut the door before facing her again. She’s looking at me with a huge smile on her face. I return to her a confused look, unsure of why she would be smiling so widely.

“So when I was coming back from my parent’s house, I got a call,” she pauses and I just stare at her. She folds up a t-shirt and places it nicely in her suitcase.

“Go on,” I say, prompting her to stop packing.

“Well Josh called me from Chicago. He’s with Ryan Ross and Joe Trohman,” she says, sitting down on her bed.

“Neat,” I say dully. “Why are you telling me this?”

“If you let me finish, you little weasel, you’ll find out!” she says, laughing.

“Well finish then! You know I hate long, pointless, obscure stories as a back-up to some thing you’re eventually going to get to,” I lean on the door, waiting for Hayley to stop laughing.

“Fine, okay,” she stops herself from laughing before continuing. “Well anyway, Josh called me and wanted to talk to me about you.”

“What. Why,” I state, rather than ask.

“I don’t know, really. He talked about other things, it wasn’t a call completely about you,” she says.

“I don’t…I’m not-I’m just…what? I don’t get why you’re saying this, or why he called to talk about me,” I say, scratching my head, completely confused. Officially.

“Sara, I think he likes you,” she says, flat out. I just stare at her. He can’t like me. Why does he like me? Since when?

“What? No. I don’t like him like that!” I say, trying to stop his feelings with yelling about how much I don’t want him to like me. It won’t work; never does.

Hayley gets up and continues packing. I stand there in thought for a few minutes. Why does Josh like me? I’ve been friends with him for as long as I have been friends with Hayley. He has never once said a word to me about liking me, and never really acted like he liked me either; not in that way at least. And, anyway, I don’t like him like that; we’re too close of friends. He’s practically a brother to me. No one wants to date their brother. That’s just wrong.

“I think you should give him a chance if he says something to you,” she says, zipping up her bag. I shake my head violently.

“No. Hayley, no. I can’t do that. He’s like a brother. Dating a brother is wrong. So wrong on so many levels. It’s not happening.”

“Why not? He’s nice…and cute.”

“Yeah, sure, but no. I’m not dating him. I don’t want a boyfriend for one, and for two, no.”

She stares at me with squinted eyes, hands on hips.

“Sara-“

“It’s going to be so awkward now,” I say before she gets to say whatever it is she was going to say.

“I wasn’t supposed to mention anything to you so you better not make it awkward.”

I let out a huff and close my eyes.

“Hayley,” I whine. “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” she says, laughing. I open my eyes.

“You’re damn right you shouldn’t have said anything,” I say, moving out of the way as she carries several packed luggage items towards her door. I open it for her and move out of the way. She carries her stuff to the living room where we meet Brendon, who is lying on the air mattress, watching TV still.

“Brendon, is this all you ever do?” I ask, stopping at the edge of the mattress. He looks up at me and smiles.

“Sometimes,” is all he says before turning back to the TV.

Guys; they always have to be watching TV.

“And how are all the bands supposed to meet up and be on their own bus?” I ask, standing outside of the bus that’s parked in a random parking lot in the town of Franklin, Tennessee. It’s about 4am and Hayley, Brendon and I are standing outside of the bus where we just put in all of our suitcases. Hayley’s mom and dad drove here to bid us farewell and to drive Hayley’s car back.

“At the first venue, everyone switches to the right bus,” Hayley explains, mainly because Brendon is too busy sleepwalking to answer or even comprehend my question. See, he went to bed about two hours ago and Hayley and I had to load up his suitcase in her car while he was passed out when he was supposed to be awake at 3:30am.

He stands there, yawning, eyes half shut. I glare at him as he sways around, oblivious to my condescending looks and thoughts.

“Let’s get in the bus so we can go back to sleep,” Hayley suggests, slowly making her way to the bus. Brendon understands her comment, probably only picking up on the ‘go back to sleep’ part. I follow behind him, hoping he doesn’t fall over on the way there. We climb up the steps onto the bus and I look around. Nothing significant showing exactly whose bus this is.

“So whose bus is this one?” I ask openly to anyone who heard me; either Brendon or Hayley.

“I think this is our bus; Paramore’s,” she says, looking in the cabinets, finding all the foods we specifically asked for on the rider.

“The other buses are probably in Chicago,” she explains. I nod, looking around.

“Brendon, you should go back to sleep,” Hayley suggests to Brendon, who is standing in the middle of the front lounge of the bus, eyes almost closed, and his body swaying around. I reach out and grab his forearm, which dangles haphazardly at his side, and pull him towards the bunks.

“I’m not going to sleep in someone else’s bunk,” he says, voice cracking and sounding rough.

“No one is going to care. Someone’s going to sleep in your bunk.”

“Which one are you sleeping in?” he asks, looking at me tiredly.

“Um,” I look around, picking the one to my right. It’s the second one up from the bottom; looks easy to get into since I’m pretty short; the base of the bunk comes to the height of my shoulder.

“That one,” I say, pointing my thumb towards the bunk I picked out.

Brendon quickly climbs into it, and I can’t do a damn thing about it as he lies down.

“Brendon,” I whine, poking his side, causing him to twitch his body. He turns to look at me, smirk on his face.

“What?” he asks innocently.

“Why would you steal my bed?” I ask, sounding like a child, hoping I could get some sympathy out of him; maybe get him out of my bunk.

“Because you’re a nice girl and you would be kind enough to let me sleep here, right?”

I just stare at him. I’m not so sure that I’d let him sleep there. He closes his eyes and laughs.

“I knew you would. Thanks Sara,” he says, turning over.

“You’re such a disappointment,” I say, grabbing onto the mattress and looking in at Brendon’s body. I’m not giving up my bed that easily.

“I know,” he says quietly, not moving an inch. I reach over and put my hands on his sides and shake him around, hoping that would work to get him out of my bed.

“Brendon, please,” I say. He flips over onto his back, lying on my hands. He looks over at me, smirking.

“Just get in here and go to sleep,” he says. I let out an annoyed sigh.

“Brendon,” I whine.

“What are you two doing?” Hayley asks from the doorway to the bunks. I turn my head towards Hayley, my hands still under Brendon’s back.

“Brendon stole my bunk,” I say.

“Sleeping,” Brendon says at the same time.

“Just pick another bunk,” Hayley suggests to me. I pout at her.

“I don’t want another one. Make him pick another one.”

“You two are just like children,” Hayley says, shaking her head at us, looking quite amused, if I do say so myself.

“Goodnight, kids,” she says, climbing up to the very back top bunk. I watch her as she get in, hoping she’d turn back to and help me out; she doesn’t. I look back at Brendon and pout at his smiling face.

“I hate you,” I say, pulling my hands out from under him.

“Just get up here,” he says, scooting over towards the wall. I don’t move and he just stares at me.

“Come on. You want this bunk, right?”

“Yeah,” I say dully.

“Well I’m not getting out and you’re not going to a different one, obviously, so just get up here,” he says, patting the spot in front of him.

“Fine,” I give in and climb up, lying on my back next to him. How awkward.

“Switch me spots. I don’t want to fall out,” I say, turning to look at him.

“Okay, get out,” I do as he says. He scoots over closer to the edge. I wait for him to get out, but he never does.

“Are you coming back, or what?” he asks, looking at me.

“You’re making me climb over you? How’s that going to work?”

“Just come on,” he says.

I climb up the few ladder steps and stop, unsure of how I’m supposed to get in over his body. This will be nothing but completely awkward, especially since the ladder is right next to where his head is. Great…I’m going to have to climb over his head.

“Put your hand here,” he says, pointing to the spot next to his torso. I do as he says and wait for the next thing.

“Now get in here,” he says, as if it’s that easy.

“Why can’t you just get out like a normal person so I can get in?”

“Because I’m too tired and I bet you won’t let me back in. Plus, it’s already warm, why would I want to get into a cold bunk?”

I just shake my head at him, rolling my eyes, and step up the next ladder step.

“Put one hand on the other side of me and bring your knee up here,” he says. I don’t move, just look at him oddly.

“Just-we’re friends, come on,” he says, so I reluctantly do what he instructed.

At this point, I’m pretty sure I know how I need to get in. I hoist myself up, momentarily resting both knees on the side of his torso before bringing one over his body, straddling him. In those few moments, I look down at him as he looks up at me. He places his hands on my sides to help me in and time seems to slow down. Before I do anything I’ll hate myself for in the morning (like, I don’t know, kiss him? Why I want to, I have no idea), I swing my other leg over him and lie down on my side next to him, curling up with my back to the wall. I suddenly become very confused at that fleeting thought of wanting to kiss him and try desperately to push it out of my mind.

“See? It wasn’t that hard,” he says quietly, pulling the curtain closed. I don’t say anything, just close my eyes and try to go to sleep.

“Are you cold?” he asks after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” I say quietly, still curled up in a ball. He grabs the blanket that is folded up at the back of the bunk and spreads it across us.

A few more minutes have passed and I’m still cold; my body is shaking slightly.

“Are you still cold?” he turns to me. I look at him and nod, as my teeth begin chattering.

“Come here,” he says, rolling over onto his side to face me, lifting up his arm. He scoots closer to me and wraps his arm around me and pulls me into him. I immediately warm up from his body heat, and feel very close to sleep.

“Thanks,” I whisper into his chest.

“No problem,” he says quietly and I can feel the vibration from his voice as I lay into him.

I begin to wonder if I like Brendon or not. I don’t really know why I had the urge to kiss him earlier and what he’s doing now seems like something a couple would do. But you know what? We’re just friends. I can’t like him, it just wouldn’t work. I don’t want a boyfriend and I’m sure he doesn’t want a girlfriend. This is something friends do, right?

And besides, I’d feel completely awful if I didn’t give Josh a chance before I gave Brendon a chance, if Brendon even likes me. I can’t do that to Josh. I don’t even know if I will even give either of them a chance, I don’t think I like either of them in that way. I’ll just try my best to push all these thoughts out of my mind during this tour, and, I don’t know, for forever.

“We didn’t have our nightly talk last night,” he says quietly.

“I didn’t know you wanted it to be a nightly deal,” I say softly, keeping my eyes closed.

“Me either, but I think it should be.”

“Do you want to have a talk tonight, then?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “The theme is pointless information.”

I laugh, causing him to laugh as well.

“What? Like what?” I ask.

“We ask each other a question, and we both answer it.”

“Okay. Ask me something.”

He thinks for a few seconds.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue,” I say quickly. That was an easy question.

“Me too,” he laughs, waiting for me to ask something.

“No more boring questions, Brendon,” I say, already bored with the first, typical question.

“Deal,” he says.

“What do you think of yourself?”

“I’m annoying and hard to deal with. I’m too hyper sometimes and I don’t know when to shut my mouth. What do you think of yourself?”

“I don’t really know. I think I’m annoying and I talk too much,” I say simply, Brendon just laughs quietly, thinking of a question.

“If you could have three wishes granted, what would they be and why?”

“Number one would be a husband because I really want to get married but I don’t allow myself to get involved with anyone. Number two would be a puppy because I really want a puppy. Three would be to win the lottery because, hey, who doesn’t want that?”

“I definitely want to win the lottery, that’s for sure,” he says, laughing softly afterwards.

“What are your three wishes?”

“Just winning the lottery is all I wish for.”

“Nothing else? Seriously? Just money?”

“It’s not really about the money; just getting to say I won the lottery is what would be the best part about that. A small part of it would be about the money, sure.”

“You’re weird,” I say, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding proud.

“Let’s continue these question things later; I’m falling asleep,” I say, my voice cracking slightly.

“Good idea,” he whispers.