Flipping Coins

I couldn’t sleep that night.

I watched the computerized digits of my bedside clock advance closer and closer to morning--up until 5:30 A.M. sharp.

I pictured my friends, too tired to show their vast amount of underlying excitement, stumbling onto their tour bus, coffees and baggage in hand--not caring who gets which bunk just as long as they could crash on something. Then there would be Zack and Ryan--the morning people of the band--stuffing their things into the best bunk available before they would eagerly race to the front to determine who got to drive first. I knew these boys all too well.

Then, before I could stop it, I broke my promise to Ryan and began to ponder over what Brendon was doing in this particular point in time.

No doubt, Brendon would be horribly tired, probably having avoided Ryan’s advice to get as much rest as possible the previous night by staying up until a very late hour with his girlfriend. What had they done last night?--I couldn’t help but to wonder--had Brendon broke the promise we had told each other to keep when we were mere adolescences? We had broken it together, sure, but had he further deepened the sin by sleeping with Evelia? Had they reached that step in their relationship yet?

I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I wanted to sleep and let the day pass me by. It was Saturday, after all. Saturdays were meant to be lazy days, right?

When I wouldn’t allow my mind to think about anything further than falling asleep, it finally obliged, realizing there was no possible way it could win. I fell into a deep rest, no dreams vividly playing beneath my closed eyelids--just the overwhelmingly tranquil black that veiled my vision.

I hadn’t realized how long I had overslept until my eyes opened up again to observe that the sun was barely rising. It had been barely rising when I had finally fallen asleep. Looking at my clock with confusion, I saw that it read 8:12. The sun should have already risen by this point.

Then, looking back at my clock, I saw that it read 8:12 P.M.

So the Sun wasn’t barely rising--it was almost done setting.

I was glad to know that I hadn’t been under a 24 hour coma, but was still a little freaked that I had slept that long.

Ignoring these thoughts, I stretched out my aching legs and arms and got to my feet. I looked at my cellphone sitting on my nightstand, unable to hide the twinge of hope brightening inside of me. Without another thought, I snatched it up and opened it, excited and satisfied to see that I had two unread messages.

The first was from Jon: And were off. The road is jst as bumpy as ever but were thinkin about u evry step of the way.

Smiling, I read the next message with high spirits.

This one was from Ryan: We just left Nevada and are traveling through Arizona. It’s going to be a very long drive, especially since Spence forgot his deodorant. :P But we’re having fun and talking about you. We already miss you. And I mean “we” as in all of us. (I made face when I read this. What did he mean by that?) I’ll call you when we stop in TX. Have a good day.

Well, I kinda wasted most of my day, but there was still some left I could use to make it a decent day. I could go see a late night movie. Ryan would like if I did that.

So, in an exceptionally great mood, I strutted to my bathroom to take a shower, humming Folkin’ Around the entire way.

I decided to see a dollar movie, just because it was less crowded and I wouldn’t seem so weird to be single and watching a movie by myself. I then decided to watch Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes to Jail. I tried to make the best of the 1 hour and 45 minute, comedy-drama film that I was seeing by my lonesome.

By the time I arrived back home, it was well past 11 o’clock, but I still wasn’t tired. I couldn’t understand why Ryan hadn’t called yet. Even if they were now under a different time zone, Central was set an hour forward than Mountain, so, if anything, Ryan should have called earlier than expected.

Just when I decided that I wasn’t going to stay up all night again just to have my routine all screwed up, my home phone rang throughout my almost silent apartment, and I raced forward eagerly to answer it.

“This is Emie,” I said into the phone, a little too eager than I wanted to sound.

“Emie?” confirmed a male voice. “Uhh--hey. How are you?”

“I’m good. Um--this is Ryan, right?” I asked unsurely. I normally could tell if it was him or not, but this one was a tough call. The tone was off or something.

“Yeah yeah. This is Ryan,” he answered quickly. “So what did you do today?”

Now calmer, I began animatedly, “Oh nothing much, to be honest. It’s kind of sad to be so dependent on you guys, but I kinda didn’t sleep until like 6 this morning---“

“Why?” Ryan laughed.

“Well,” I nervously admitted, “I just wanted to know when you guys left. I don’t know. I’m weird. Don’t listen to me.”

Ryan laughed again. “So is that all you did? You slept all day?”

“Yeah, all day. But I just got back from seeing a late-night dollar movie.”

“What’d you see?”

“Madea Goes to Jail.”

“All by yourself?” Ryan asked, sympathy showing in his curious voice.

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal or anything. I did earn my big girl badge a long time ago, you know,” I sarcastically remarked, trying to get rid of the sympathy before it became too permanent. As Ryan laughed, I took that as my chance to turn the tables of pestering questions. “So what did you guys do today?”

“We sat on our asses, ate, watched T.V, and then practiced some songs acoustic style,” Ryan explained, unable to hide some of his enthusiasm of touring despite the dull, severely shortened summary. “We just now got back in the bus from dinner at a Denny’s in some small town off the interstate somewhere in Texas. Zack has the late shift of driving us to Louisiana.” He snickered.

“Don’t you boys be messing with my Zackary now,” I ordered playfully with a Southern accent. “I will not tolerate this kind of behavior from my fully grown boys.”

Ryan started to laugh, but suddenly stopped. A moment of rustling from the other end of the line crumpled in my ear until Ryan’s heavy breathing came back. “Emie? You still there?”

“Yeah. What was that all about?” I asked, confused.

“What? Oh, nothing. Nothing is going on,” Ryan answered a little too fast. But before I could question this odd behavior, Ryan said, “Uhh--Emie? I gotta go. Apparently, Spencer found Jon’s water gun case, and you know how that goes.”

I laughed nervously and said, “Okay. Call me when you can.”

“Sure thing. See ya, Ems.” With that, Ryan hung up, leaving me feeling more alone than ever.

Why didn’t I go on tour with them? Oh, yeah. That’s right. Because of Brendon.