I Am the Boy on Your Girlfriend's Lips

It was time for us to go to the next city. Which meant spending several hours in a bus with five very loud, obnoxious, and idiotic teenage boys. To say I was excited would be an understatement.

That was sarcasm, in case you couldn't tell.

It really wasn't the fact that I knew I'd be suffering a headache from all the shenanigans the boys would pull for the next few hours that bothered me, it was the fact that I'd have to face John for the next couple hours that made me dread this bus ride.

After what happened between me and Josh, I hardly could look at John without feeling guilty. But on the other hand, I couldn't help but think it's what he deserved. He was after all being a complete and total ass to his beautiful, wonderful, amazing, blonde girlfriend of two years. And I hadn't even done anything to him! Still... sleeping with someone else while you're in a relationship is a pretty slutty thing to do. I wasn't a slut, though! Honestly. I was just... Having emotional troubles and made a serious mistake. Except I actually enjoyed what Josh and I had done. And not just because we had sex. It was because I actually enjoyed being with Josh. Which was so wrong on so many levels. But hey, there was already so much wrong in my life, what harm could one more thing do?

"Pat just scrubbed the toilet with his own toothbrush and then proceeded to use the same tooth brush to brush his teeth for five dollars," Garrett informed me as he sat down on the bus's couch next to me.

I had decided to sit up front so as to separate myself from the boys' "adventures", as Jared called them.

"Ah, he's done worse for less," I said, closing my laptop and looking over at him. Call me a whore, but I couldn't help but notice how gorgeous he looked with what had to be at least two days worth of stubble on his handsome face.

"Yeah, like that one time Kenny gave him two dollars to ask out Ms. Bershaw in front of the whole class," he said, a nostalgic look in his eyes. “Remember she had a mole the size of Alaska on her face?”

I laughed at the memory. "There's not much that boy won't do for money."

"Except have sex," Kennedy chimed in, now sitting at the table located across from the couch. "He said he'd never ever have sex for money."

"Well, my respect for Pat just went up ten points," I teased.

"The kid is wild," Garrett said. "But you have to fucking love him."

"I don't," I replied. "See, 'cause I have a boyfriend." Or two.

I don't know exactly why I said that. But it sure made Garrett and Kennedy go from friendly to awkward in zero point three seconds.

"What?" I asked, a little pissed off at their reaction. “It’s not like I just said I secretly have a penis or something."

Garrett avoided my glare and rubbed the stubble on the side of his face. Kennedy however was not so lucky and managed to receive the full potency of my glare.

"If you want us to play stupid, we will," he timidly said.

"Play stupid? About what?"

"You and, uhm, John," Garrett dared to say.

"What about us?" I pressed. If they noticed what had been up with me and John, I wanted to hear them say it out-loud.

Kennedy gave me a look of sympathy. "You know, Tristan."

"No, Kennedy, I am sorry, I do not know," I played innocent and oblivious. "What about you Garrett? Do you know?" I turned my ten thousand watts of fake smiling at him.

"It's not your fault, Tris, John's just being an ass," he tried to smooth over. But I wasn't satisfied.

"I don't know what you're talking about," My temper was rising as each second ticked by. "Maybe I should go ask John about it."

That got them. I think Garrett's eyes almost popped out of his head and Kennedy's jaw almost hit the table top. They exchanged a nervous a bewildered glance. Kennedy was the first one to say something.

"If you wanna act like nothing's wrong, that's cool," he said. "We can play that game too."

I don't know why Kennedy's words hurt so much, but they did. It felt like he'd stuck a vacuum hose down my throat and sucked out all the air in my lungs. Making my throat burn and eyes fill with tears in the process.

I had nothing more to say—what could I say? So I picked myself up from the couch, ignoring the sudden weakness in my legs, and started to make my way back to my bunk.

But of course my life's not that simple because I smacked, hard I might add, right into all six foot something of John O'Callaghan. That's when the dam burst and the tears started pouring.

He looked like he was about to say something nasty, but his expression immediately softened when he caught sight of my face.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?" he wiped a tear away with his fingers, like he actually cared.

"Nothing," I sniffled.

"Eh," he imitated a buzzer noise. "That ma'am is the wrong answer."

He was smiling. He was being silly. He was trying to make me feel better. He wasn't completely heartless. But all it did was make me feel worse.

"No," I mumbled and pushed past him and crawled into my our bunk.

If John was an animal, he'd be a cheetah, because not two seconds later he was crawling in beside me. Damn him for being so quick.

What was he doing? Had he so conveniently forgotten those awful words he'd said to me only two days ago? Had he forgotten the state of our relationship? Yet again, he had acted like nothing was wrong before. So what did that mean? Our relationship was only normal and functioning when he wanted it to be? Oh hell no, that was so not going to happen.

"Get out, John," I hissed, trying to push him out of the bunk.

He grabbed my hands to stop my attempt. "How about you tell me what's wrong first."

"You can't act like I'm dog shit that you stepped in while running barefoot through your yard one second and then the next second you act like I'm the mystical prize inside of the cereal box," I blurted, regretting the analogy I used instantly.

“That’s a lovely image you’ve just created in my mind,” was all he said with a little smile on his lips. I didn’t know what bothered me more; the words he said, the way he said those words, or the smile he had while he said it.

“Seriously, John, that’s all you have to say?”

“Tris, I don’t know what you want me to say.” The smile disappeared.

“When have you ever cared about what I wanted you to say?” I asked rhetorically. “Never, John. You’ve never cared about what I wanted to hear. You'd never say things, things that weren’t true, to please you. You’ve always just spoke your mind. Even if it was a little bit hurtful, you still did. And I’d rather have that than have you saying what I want to hear.”

He let out a sigh. “But see, I don’t really have anything to say. Or rather, I don’t know what to say. There’s so much—and it’s not just all about you. I'm dealing with a lot of shit right now, Tristan. Some of it I have no idea how to deal with. That’s why I’ve been…off lately.”

“Babe,” I found his hand and took it in mine. “I'm here for you. You don’t have to deal with this stuff alone. Talk to me, okay? Communicate. I don’t care if all you have to say are complaints. I don’t care. The only thing I care about is you.”

Okay so that last part may have been a lie. Because I also cared about Josh—as well as myself—but that was neither the time nor the place to say so.

Something in John switched, like the new norm for him had become, and he became distance. His face got hard and any ounce of friendliness had evaporated. “It’s my shit to deal with. Not yours. I'm fine on my own.”

Trying to remain composed, I said, “But you're obviously not. Fine on your own, as well as on your own. I'm your girlfriend, John. We’re in a relationship. We’re together. And something like this that has taken such a toll on our relationship is not something you keep to yourself.”

“We may be in a relationship, but that doesn’t mean we need to tell each other every single detail and aspect of our lives. There are some things that we keep to ourselves. Some things we keep private,” He responded, his face as hard as ever. “I'm sure you don’t tell me everything, Tristan.”

My breath caught in my throat. That was way too accusatory to not have something hidden behind it. He knew about Josh. One way or another he had found out. Maybe it was Josh and his big mouth who just couldn’t keep his latest debaucheries to himself and felt the need to shout that we fucked to the heavens. Or maybe someone saw us leave the bus together. Or… something, I don’t know, but someway John found out.

Before I could make my case and then proceed to defend myself, John said, “Honestly, this is the last thing I need right now.” And shimmied out of my bunk and left, but not before giving my forehead a kiss and saying, “Just please don’t ever forget that I love you.”