Best Kept Secret

The blistering summer heat had claimed yet another day on Warped Tour. It was the kind of heat that made everything stick and put a light film of moisture on every inch of skin.

Staying in your bus for as long as you could was almost a necessity, but between the demands of fans, catering, signings, acoustic sets, your real set, or just watching another band play, that option seemed unattainable. For John O'Callaghan, that option hadn’t even been thought of that day.

He almost wished he had been born a girl, finding their summer fashion a little bit more breathable. If John didn’t have to worry about being mobbed further, he would have been naked. Instead he had settled on a trade mark white v-neck and a pair of black skinny jeans.

With the days events now over and the sun now setting the heat hadn’t let up, it almost seemed like it had gotten worse. The typical end of the day BBQ or after party was in full swing.

John was now on his fourth drink; the liquid in the red plastic cup coated his throat and left a bad taste in his mouth. But he kept on drinking, practically chugging each drop down in one fail swoop.

As he tipped his head back to take another swig, something caught his eye. It was the glimpse of a flame that seemed way too close to his line of vision. Turning his head ever so slightly, he found a familiar face coming through a puff of smoke.

Her blonde hair was thrown over her shoulder in a messy braid, her bangs sweeping towards the side. The pair of black ray bans that she had been covering her blue eyes with all day were placed right on top of her head. She was dressed in a simple pair of denim cut off shorts that were too short for their own good, and a simple white tank top that dipped a little too low in the front.

He had no idea where she was from, barely had any idea what she was even doing with the tour, but he had always managed to pass her several times a day or bump into her side stage while watching some band.

“Zoe,” her name dripped off of his lips with ease as he turned his body to fully face her.

“John,” she smirked back, blowing another puff of smoke passed her lips.

“Not drinking tonight?” He asked, noticing her empty hand and sober expression.

“I haven’t gotten to it yet,” she retorted, a smirk forming ever so slightly on her lips. “You on the other hand, what is that number four, five maybe?”

“Four, about to be five,” he chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck shyly before he downed the rest of his beverage and tossed his cup towards the ground. “You want me to get you anything?”

“Rye and ginger would be great,” Zoe smiled.

The contagiousness of her smile, mixed with the alcohol now coursing through his blood stream made John tingle. It was a feeling he was used to, although his innocent reputation would lead people to believe other wise.

Shifting his stance he took a couple of quick steps and found his footing to be far too awkward. Ever since the first day of his first year at what everyone liked to call “punk rock summer camp”, John had stumbled through the night in a drunken haze, much like he seemed to be doing now.

And somewhere along that sideways walk he always took, there was a blonde who was just as drunk waiting for him. Except now she was far too sober for his liking, nursing the long cigarette instead of nursing a drink.

“Be careful there Johnny boy,” he heard her calling behind him. It brought a tint of red to his cheeks, the nickname she had jokingly given him one night. He still wasn’t used to that damn nickname.

Glassy eyes now carried him through the small crowd of people that surrounded him, as he heard the faint beat of rap music coming from underneath a tent that had yet to be dismantled. He strayed towards the stash of booze, amber liquids, clear, and gold all stared at him, begging for another round, another chance to bring that glassy eyed feeling to a whole new level.

He settled on his old friend Jack for himself, finding Jim not too far down the line. Grabbing two bright red cups and dropping a few pieces of ice in each, John generously poured a couple of shots down. Next he picked up the mixer, adding coke to his and ginger ale to hers.

Once his concoctions were complete, he had the difficult task of wandering back to where the girl was waiting without spilling a drop.

The scene itself was hysterical, John carefully balancing two red cups as he swerved back and forth like a snake in the grass. The laughter dripping from her lips could be heard from about a mile away, and it reached John’s ears in full force.

“Your drink my lady,” he chuckled, holding out the offering to her.

Wrapping her thin fingers around the flimsy plastic, John felt them brush his own. It sent a jolt through his body, startling him for a moment that he hopped wasn’t obvious.

“Thank you sir,” she whispered, bringing the drink to her lips and taking a few long swigs.

He watched as he face contorted at the taste, her top lip curling ever so slightly as she squinted her eyes and scoffed.

“Too strong?”

“A bit,” she coughed, before shrugging her shoulders and downing the rest.

Several more trips back and forth from each of them had now brought them coasting against that line, the line of just a bit too drunk and perfectly tipsy. It was a line that John loved to test, stepping back and forth between them often.

Zoe had stated that she loved to test that line herself, it made waking up the next day fun, trying to remember the previous night’s events, wondering how you lost all of your clothes and how you ended up in some strange bunk.

To say that John liked this girl would be stating the obvious, he was fascinated by her. She lived by the seat of her pants, never seemed to take things too serious or personal, she was almost perfect.

They had been sitting on the concrete ground for a good ten minutes, laughing and talking about nothing in particular. Suddenly, Zoe pushed herself to her feet and began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” John questioned, trying to push himself to his own feet without success.

“You’ll see,” she called back in a sing-song voice, turning her head to glance at him just over her shoulder.

The simple look almost sent John’s head into the spins; deviousness could be seen sparkling in her eyes before all he could see was her back. Within minutes she came sauntering back, holding out another plastic cup for John to take.

“What’s this?” He asked immediately, taking the cup from her hand.

“Tequila,” Zoe answered, licking her lips and smiling wide. “And none of that Patron bullshit, this is Jose, gold. This stuff right here is tequila,” she added before she took a seat once again.

Before John could stop himself he groaned. He had never had the best experience with tequila; he didn’t understand how some people could actually enjoy throwing back shots of the powerful liquid.

“Oh come on, just take the shot with me Johnny boy,” the girl taunted, holding up her cup.

Taking a deep breath, John tapped his cup against hers before quickly downing the shot. His face mimicked the one Zoe had made earlier, smacking his lips together in disgust.

“Thanks Zoe,” he mumbled, stifling a cough.

“You’re welcome,” she giggled, setting the cup next to her feet before she pulled out another long cigarette. Lighting it, she took a few puffs before holding it out towards the boy sitting next to her. He took it, taking his own long drag before handing it back. They repeated this nonchalant action in between some more casual conversation.

An hour had seemed to pass without much notice. Some people started to casually make their way towards their busses, calling it a night. Others were just getting started, beer pong had been set up, and the music was still continuous and good.

For the pair sitting side by side on the now cool concrete, their conversation had started to dwindle. Now long pauses and awkward laughs filled the empty space between them where thriving words had once sat.

“I should go,” Zoe said softly, butting out her final cigarette.

“I can walk you,” John offered, bringing himself to his feet and extending his hand out to her.

Giggling, she placed her hand inside of his and stood. It surprised John when she kept their hands linked, walking just a little bit ahead of him and guiding the way.

They faded away from the light and sounds of the after party, the dark shadows of metal busses engulfed John and Zoe. Their steps were wobbly, sideways at best as he laughed when she stopped to take in her surroundings.

“Lost?” He teased.

He had anticipated her response, knowing it wasn’t going to be a simple no. She wasn’t even going to say a word.

Tugging the drunken boy towards her, she closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his. She wasn’t lost; she was just trying to find the perfect place.

They kept up appearances in public, never sitting too close or laughing too hard at each other’s jokes. This was not the first time that she was leading him towards his bus, his bunk. This was not the first night they would spend together, and it wouldn’t be the last until they hit California again.

After a few moments of drunken kisses, they had managed to find their way towards his bus. It was empty, which was something he had been counting on.

He was now the leader, taking her down the familiar path of the tiny space he spent his days and nights in. He could do this part blind folded, and in his drunken state he practically was.

Once they were securely between the two walls of bunks John smiled, admiring her for a moment before he leaned down. He let his lips brush against hers softly, barely letting them touch. He could feel her suck in a breath, the anticipation almost too much for the girl.

The hesitance from him, the curious nature he took on every single time had seemed to be what she liked. He did everything in time, kissing her softly before he let himself get carried away.

He wanted to explore, observe every small twitch she made, every soft sound she let slip. He felt like a scientist, trying to figure out how she worked, what she liked, what she didn’t. He wanted to know the mechanics, the inner workings of this strange being that stood in front of him almost every single night.

Another brush of their lips lit the charge, followed by another, and then another until it exploded into full on passion.

He quickly got his lust under control, pulling his lips away from hers and brushing them against her cheek, down to her jaw line, and over the side of her neck.

They never spoke, the strong confidence that John exuded seemed to silence her in those moments. But tonight was no regular night.

“It’s my birthday,” she said breathlessly as his lips brushed against the front of her neck.

“Really?” He questioned against her soft skin, a smile forming ever so slightly.

She only nodded, swallowing hard.

He peeled back the flaps on her shorts and tugged, letting the material slip off of her hips. He could feel the goose bumps forming against the delicate skin, the faint sound of a whimper fall from her lips. Sliding his hands up her sides, he caught the hem of her shirt and dragged it along. It landed on top of her shorts, followed quickly by his v-neck and jeans. A pile of fabrics that would easily spill the secret they had been keeping.

They were now a mess of hands, lips and awkward footing caught in the middle of a lust filled and alcohol fueled haze. Through it all John and Zoe managed to fall into his bunk, his lanky limbs getting tangled with hers as they moved around for space and the slightest bit of comfort.

The muffled sound of a bang could be heard, stopping them both dead in their efforts to create the needed space.

“Dammit,” He cursed in a hushed tone, his hand instantly going to the back of his head.

He could hear her gasp. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, taking a moment to gather himself and look at her.

A smile crept onto his face, she was beautiful, all he could ever want. Bringing his hands up to cup her cheeks he kissed her, soft but full on the mouth.

“Happy birthday Zoe,” he whispered against her lips, before he closed the curtain to his bunk and the pair slipped into bliss.

The morning came just as quickly as the night ended. The pounding in John’s head was unbearable and even more apparent with the tiny hint of sun seeping into his bunk. It caused him to live in that dream like state, unsure if he was awake or still sleeping. Her elbow then met his ribs in a sharp jab, assuring him that he was indeed awake.

Cracking one eye carefully open, John noticed that Zoe’s back was facing him. She was trying to get dressed, but the confines of the tiny bunk weren’t helping her cause.

He was used to this, a night together and a quick retreat in the morning. She always assumed that he never knew. She figured that he was always sleeping when she made her escape before the bus stirred and everyone begun the day’s events.

The first time he had been sleeping, lost in a dream world he couldn’t remember. But every time after that he always woke up to the slight brush of her leg against his, or in this case an elbow in the side.

She let out a sigh, her body slipping fully from the bunk before she closed the curtain, engulfing John into darkness yet again.

The smile took over his face as he shifted to lay flat on his back. He had gotten used to waking up like this, a tiny blonde sneaking out of his bunk only to sneak back in the next night. It was the one thing he looked forward to.

Zoe, she was his best kept secret.