You're No Good At Lying

Chapter XVIII

Spencer didn’t sleep well that night; she tossed and turned on a mattress that she had once found incredibly comfortable. Now, though, her bed on the bus felt like a pile of sharp, uneven rocks. While the rational part of her constantly told herself that Andrew didn’t know what he was talking about, the suddenly more dominant part that loved Zack more than she had ever loved anyone else told her otherwise. What if he really was cheating on her? Spencer had never bothered with serious relationships solely for this reason: she didn’t want to get hurt.

At about 3:30, Spencer got out of her bed and tiptoed to the bed diagonal from hers. Shaking the sleeping lump with more force than was probably necessary, she saw Andrew’s bright blonde hair emerge from out of the covers.

“What did you mean last night?” She asked through gritted teeth.

“What’re you talking about?” He muttered, rolling over towards the wall so he couldn’t see her. Spencer just shook him again; this time harder.

“You said that you think he cheated on me. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” groaned Andrew, and he pulled the covers around himself. “Because I’m a jealous bastard, and any guy would be stupid to ignore you.”

“It’s only been two days,” pleaded Spencer, though at this point she didn’t know if she was trying to convince Andrew or herself.

There was a moment of silence, before Andrew sat up abruptly. The covers slid down his pale chest, and Spencer was surprised to see that he wasn’t completely skin and bones like she thought he was. Of course, he was no Zack, but his chest certainly would have been appealing at one point in time. “Were you listening in on our conversation last night?”

“Well, yeah,” responded Spencer, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Morgan said I’d be kicked out of the band if I told you. He can’t kick me out just because you’re a little snoop.” Spencer chuckled, and momentarily, she forgot all about Zack.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she muttered quietly, adjusting her crouching position by his bed. “I – Andrew, I’m sorry about everything. About how I treated you, and all.” Andrew just shrugged.

“I’m an easy target, I know. I’m weird, I’m socially awkward, I don’t look anything all at like Merrick –“

“That doesn’t mean you’re not good looking, though,” countered Spencer, her tone expressionless – like it was a scientifically proven fact. Had Spencer been able to see better in the dark, she may have noticed the blush that was creeping up Andrew’s neck.

“Really?” Squeaked Andrew.

“Yeah,” she pressed. There was an awkward kind of silence for a moment, before she asked quietly, “What’s your real hair color?”

“Blonde. But like, a brownish-blonde,” Andrew paused. “It looked like every other hair color in the world. I wanted something that made me… stand out.”

“That makes sense,” she said quietly, looking down at the ground. Spencer stood up slowly, feeling the joints in her knees snap back into place. “I should go back to bed,” Spencer mumbled softly, pulling down the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

“Wait,” Andrew suddenly said. “Why don’t you sleep here with me? I can tell you’re freezing.” Spencer wasn’t going to refute that – in her shorts and sweatshirt, she was the coldest she’d been on the entire tour. With a slight nod, Spencer climbed over Andrew, lying down in between him and the wall. She brought her arms close to her chest, feeling Andrew get comfortable next to her. When he finally found a spot that he could sleep in, he moved a bit closer to Spencer, pressing his chest against her back. His arm draped across her waist, resting just above her hand – in an ideal situation, he would have held it. “Sleep tight, Spencer,” he muttered softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

As Spencer drifted off to sleep, she knew that was a promise he would keep.

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For some reason or another, the first Chicago show was beyond packed. Spencer had never seen so many teenagers pushing and shoving for shirts and other band memorabilia. As the day began to wind down, Spencer became increasingly glad to start packing up the merchandise like she always did. And yet, something alarmed her. There weren’t nearly as many shirts as there was when tour first started a month and a half ago.

Tour was nearly over.

Spencer couldn’t decide if she wanted to jump with joy, or feel instantly upset.

She pushed an empty cardboard box to the side, realizing she could fit all of the leftover merchandise in four and a half boxes instead of five full ones. With expert-like movements, Spencer taped the boxes shut and stacked them on top of each other, waiting for her brother and Andrew to help her transport them back to the bus. The girl slumped back into the blue foldout chair, rubbing her tired eyes with the back of her hands.

“Hey, Spence,” a voice said, shaking her out of her thoughts. Standing directly in front of her was Zack, clad in a pair of red basketball shorts and a white t-shirt.

“Hi,” she said softly, standing up. Zack walked around the table and brought her into his embrace, and though Spencer missed his inviting hug, she wouldn’t have admitted it at the time.

“You need help with the boxes?” He asked, and Spencer nodded. With ease, Zack lifted two of the cardboard boxes, while Spencer barely managed to pick up one. They walked back to the bus in silence, knowing that they would have to return for a second trip. Throwing his two boxes into the storage under the bus, Zack immediately reached for the box in Spencer’s arm. She allowed him to take it from her and put it under the bus, before they started walking back to the merch table for the last two. “So how’ve you been lately?”

Spencer shrugged. “Pretty good.”

“That’s good.”

There was silence for a moment, until Spencer asked, “How come you haven’t been around much?”

Zack opened his mouth to respond, and then shut it. “I’ve just been busy with band stuff, is all.”

She looked up at him from the corner of her eyes, only to see Zack looking straight ahead. Spencer hated that she couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. “Maybe we can hang out tonight, then?” She suggested, and Zack shook his head.

“I don’t think so, Spencer. We’re having another band meeting.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, the girl nodded while picking up the lighter of the two remaining boxes. In silence they made the final trip towards Spencer’s bus, and in a continued silence Zack assisted her in putting her box in under the bus.

“I spoke to my mom a few days ago,” Spencer said quietly, looking down at her feet. “She got a letter from the college out in California. I’ve – they’re going to allow me to trans –“

“I have to go, Spence,” interrupted Zack, kissing her cheek quickly. “I’ll talk to you later.” He sped off in the other direction, leaving Spencer with her mouth still open, as if there was any point in her finishing her sentence.