The Punchline to the Joke Is Asking

Several days went by, and we’d left Oklahoma, as well as Blaise and Keisha, behind. Aside from that conversation with Pete, nobody knew what had happened, and nobody brought it up for fear of chasing me off again.
“Welcome to Vegas.” Brendon grinned as he and Ryan led me off the bus, out into the desert air.
“Ugh, sunny, hot, burns…” I flinched, holding a hand up to shade my eyes from the glaring sun as the two snickered at me.
“This winter, you two are going to be staying in an igloo with me if you don’t stop laughing.” I threatened, completely serious.
“You’d have to keep me warm.” Ryan winked suggestively, and Brendon wolf whistled.
“Sorry, I think I’m too hot for you to handle.” I grinned back wickedly. Ryan had been a lot less shy around me, so I was used to his teasing by now- he was just as bad as Pete, Gabe, and Bill.
“She’s got ya there, Ryro.” Brendon smirked, then picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, carrying me off.
“Hey! Brendon, where’re we going?” I yelled, squirming. “Put me down!” I could see Ryan smirking at me, waving as his friend carried me away. “Ryan, save me!”
Ryan just laughed, and I opened my mouth to yell again just as someone tackled Brendon, taking us both down.
“Spencer! You’re my hero!” I hugged him happily, and he grinned.
“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’, then picked me up bridal style and carted me off to the Panic! bus.
“Guys, they stole me.” I whispered to Pete and Joe when Spencer dropped me onto the couch between them, wrecking their house of cards. Jon had been shooting rubber bands at it, and his most recent shot hit me in the head.
“We’ll steal ya back, kiddo.” Joe grinned crookedly, ruffling my hair, and I scowled at him, fixing my reddish brown locks.
“My hair’s getting long.” I mused, running my fingers through it. “Maybe I’ll chop it all off again.” I grinned evilly, remembering my shenanigans in New York.
“Why don’t you let me cut your hair?” Brendon asked sweetly, bounding up the bus steps, Ryan hot on his heels.
“Dude, you aren’t going near my neck with scissors.” I said, cupping my hands around said appendage protectively.
“Yeah, you have enough scars.” Pete agreed, and I whacked him.
“I was eight, asshole.” I retorted, like that justified it. Young and stupid, right?
“What?” Brendon asked, his eyes wide. He’d never heard the story. Ryan hadn’t either, but he’d figured it out on his own. Brendon, however, hadn’t even noticed the scars on my arms.
Now, his eyes traced them, then darted up to my face. I just stared back at him defiantly, daring hmi to say something as I tipped my chin up, stubborn. I didn’t care when his gaze followed the thin, twin lines just below the corners of my jaw.
Then Brendon dove on me, hugging me as I was pinned beneath him on the couch.
“Brendon, get off!” I started squirming halfheartedly, and he pulled back, pouting.
“You needed a hug.”
I blinked at him for a moment, then suddenly latched onto him. “Yeah, I did.”

Time passed, and life was normal; Ryan acted like we’d never had that intimate moment in the clearing, and Joe seemed to be pretending that he’d never offered to adopt me. That was easy, right?
Wrong.
I started losing the bit of weight I’d managed to gain, worrying about what they two of them were thinking, what they saw when they looked at me, what I really meant to them. It was the first time I hadn’t known where I stood with someone, and it was driving me crazy.

“Did you get taller?” Gabe asked, hugging me when we got back from our tour.
“What?” I blinked. “Oh, I dunno. I guess I might’ve.” I frowned thoughtfully.
“You’re 17, shouldn’t you be done growing?” Patrick raised his eyebrows, overhearing us.
I shrugged. “I never hit my growth spurt as a kid; I guess now that I’m starting to actually eat again I might get taller.”
“I thought you were eating on the street.” Patrick cocked his head to one side.
“I… made sure Jamie and Trey got theirs first.” I admitted, not looking at them. I was a damn softie, and I knew it. “And not eating… well, I needed to be small to get away. I started again, I can eat a little without getting sick, now.” I grinned proudly up at him, and he just frowned at me.
“You mean we’ve had you for a year and a half and you only just started eating again?” Gabe asked, spinning me to face him.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Why?”
Gabe shot an exasperated look at the sky, then put his hands on my shoulders. “Anorexia is bad for you. You’ve gotta be eating, chica.”
“I am!” I protested.
“Yeah? What did you eat today?” he raised a skeptical eyebrow at me.
“An apple.” I said, but his gaze didn’t waver. “Well… half of it.” I mumbled, and the two men sighed.
“We’ll have you fixed up in no time, kid.” Patrick assured me.
Somehow, I had the feeling this would get back to Pete and Joe.

“What’s the point of this again?” I asked as Bill, Gabe, and Brendon dragged me through the park, Bill clutching a kite.
“It’s fun.” Brendon informed me, in a voice that barely left the ‘duh!’ unsaid.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” I rolled my eyes, then grabbed the kite and took off with it. “Catch me if ya want it back!”
That day really was fun; it didn’t take the three boys long to tackle me and retrieve the kite. Teaching me to fly it was the hardest part, but even that was full of laughs. It was fun, beautiful, perfect.
But all good things must end.