I Am the Boy on Your Girlfriend's Lips

I walked back to the tour bus around six to get ready for the party. My heart was still beating fast from talking Josh. He was hot. No, he was sexy. I let out a sigh when I noticed no one was around me.

"Tristan!" I heard Garrett yell.

I stopped and turned around, smiling at him.

"Did I see you just hit it off immensely with Josh Franceshi?" Garrett raised his eyebrow.

"No. He's just nice." I lied convincingly. “And it wasn’t just Gare, it was quite a bit ago.”

"Oh." Garrett mumbled.

"Are you going to the party? I asked him, changing the subject.

"Everyone is." Garrett laughed.

I nodded and opened the door to the bus. I stepped up and slipped off my shoes. It felt good to be in an air-conditioned environment. Garrett followed my suit, slipping off his shoes. He immediately went for the couch, piling down.

I went for the bathroom, spraying myself with body fragrance and perfume. I let my hair down from the bun I had put it in and turned on my straightener. Soon, the bus was filled with boys hollering. I could hear John complaining about his throat.

After I finished straightening my hair I went to my bunk. I picked out a loose-fitting, t-shirt that had the sleeves cut off and that had been cut down the sides that read San Jose Soccer, put on a black sports bra underneath that and a pair of short shorts. I applied tons of mascara and liquid eyeliner on the top lid and decided that was all the makeup I needed. I stopped in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water.

"Hot date tonight?"

I turned around to see Jared wiggling his eyebrows. I laughed and shook my head.

"No. I just want to look good." I giggled, walking past him.

When I entered the living room everyone turned to look at me. John's mouth dropped open, Garrett's eyes went wide, Pat dropped his hot pocket and Kennedy covered his mouth.

"Geez guys don't stare anything." I said sarcastically.

"Sorry." They all muttered.

I sat down next to John on the couch, intertwining our fingers. He barely held my hand, I looked over at him. I felt my heart sink into my chest. Our relationship had completely crashed, he wouldn't even hold my hand, or look me directly in the eye. What had I done wrong?

"Tristan go put on some clothes." John sighed.

"It's hot outside. I'll pass." I rolled my eyes.

"You're practically walking around in your underwear." John scoffed.

"I'm pretty sure I'm wearing clothes." I snarled.

“I can see straight through your shirt,” he grumbled.

“That’s the point, genius,” I argued. “That’s why I cut it down the sides.”

“It looks trashy,” he rolled his eyes.

The rest of the guys looked around awkwardly.

"When does the party start?" I asked, standing up. I threw down John's hand.

"Seven. It's six thirty." Kennedy looked at his watch.

"You're going to the party?" John looked up at me.

"Yes." I muttered. "What does it matter to you anyways?" I scoffed.

John didn't answer me. In frustration I stomped off the bus, slamming the door shut behind me. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked around me.

Tour managers were walking around with their radios, talking to each other. Band members walked in one direction. I slid down against the bus, pulling my knees to my chest.

I was so angry with John. It was like he expected me to not go to the party and stay cooped up in the tour bus, with nothing to do. The tour bus door opened, I looked up seeing Garrett. We seemed to get along pretty well. He was the one I could talk to.

Garrett walked over to me and held out his hand. I took it and he helped me up off the ground.

"It's alright, Tristan. John just needs some time." He said comfortingly.

"He needs to get his shit straight." I mumbled.

"He'll come around." Garrett assured me.

Garrett wrapped his arm around my shoulder and dragged me in the other direction.

"Where are the other guys?" I looked up at him.

"They're getting ready. Don't worry about John. Have a good time."

"I will." I smiled.

We got to the grassy area. There were three coolers, a big blue and white tent, a big pile of tree limbs and a ping pong table. I laughed.

"’Aye, Tristan!" I looked up, seeing Josh approach me. I smiled; the same thudding heart beat came back.

"Hey Josh," I grinned.

"Ready to drink?" Josh wiggled his eyebrows.

"Yes," I nodded my head quickly.

Josh pulled a beer bottle out of his back pocket and handed it to me. It was still nice and cold. I popped the cap off with the button of my shorts and took a sip.

"That's amazin’!" Josh exclaimed.

"Skill," I told him jokingly.

As the night progressed, every band on the tour was there. Even the merch guys/girls, and girlfriends of the band members. I stayed by Garrett, Josh and Kennedy the whole time. Pat had talked to me for ten minutes before spotting a girl wearing a bikini.

"So, does anyone ‘ave yer heart?" Josh asked after we finished a game of beer pong and lost miserably.

I thought about it for a moment. Did John really have my heart anymore? We barely talked. He was always grouchy. It broke my heart to say it, but he didn't. He just didn't give me that spark anymore.

"Nope, no one," I smirked.

"That's a darn shame." Josh winked.

I had six beers running through my system, but I was fully aware of what I was saying.

"Any bird have the key to your heart?" I giggled.

I signed us up for another game of beer pong. I peered around as I wrote down our names. I saw John with the guys and Garrett and Pat were talking to the girl in the bikini.

It took him a moment to respond, "Er, well not really, but there is this bird I met today, she’s quiet the catch, she ‘as eyes that sparkle, wild blonde 'air, kinda looks like she just rolled outta bed, but in a good way, an’ she even ‘as a nose ring. Very cute. Funny, too, she is. Opens ‘er beer on ‘er shorts an’ everythin’. She’s the whole package.” It was more than obvious that Josh was talking about me. Well, at least I thought he was. And I couldn’t decide whether or not that was a good thing. It actually made my stomach knot up and my palms grow clammy. “I fancy ‘er a smidgen… Okay, okay, maybe a little more than a smidgen.”

Playing along, I asked. “Oh she sounds wonderful. Do tell. What’s her name?”

“Tristan.”