I Believe in Yesterday

Bailey's POV

Lost in a fuzzy haze of reality and dream, I felt a hand shaking my shoulder lightly. His fingers delicately nudged my sided, rocking me back and forth slightly in the cozy bunk. I would have fallen back into my sleep again if my name wasn’t being whispered lightly and causing a smile to form on my sleepy face. I loved waking up to his voice.

When I finally opened my eyes and focused, I saw Zack kneeling in the squished bunk and smiling tenderly at my snug body. There weren’t any windows in the bunk and the bus was still dark so I didn’t know what time it was, but I felt like it was early.

“Come on,” Zack whispered, tugging on my arm so I would get up. It didn’t really matter if it was early in the morning or almost afternoon, because I wasn’t having a pleasant dream. What I was confused about was why Zack was waking me up so directly, especially since I didn’t have anything to do on tour, officially, besides watch the shows for free every night.

Before I could ask the question, Zack answered in a low voice, “You’ll see. Just come on.”

Willingly, I grabbed his hand and let him lead me through the sleeping bunk area and out into the front lounge, where a couple of people had passed out from exhaustion the night before. We crept on our tiptoes quietly outside into the chilly morning. The sun had barely risen and there was a coat of dew on everything and fog in the distance. It wasn’t quite cold enough to see our breathing, but the air did bring a small layer of goose bumps to my arms.

Still hand in hand, I looked around to see what Zack wanted to do out here. Absolutely no one was walking around outside the new venue. The one tour bus was lined up next to the three vans of The Maine, Every Avenue and Mayday Parade, as well other trucks and trailers.

Zack led me around to the back of the tour bus, in between the bus and Every Avenue’s giant, white van. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and when Zack let go of my hand, I crossed them over my chest to try and keep warm.

Without speaking, Zack jumped up and put his left foot on the side of the tour bus and his right foot on the side of the van, bracing himself with his hands. Slowly, he started to crawl up, like he was climbing a crevice in a wall. I watched him, even more puzzled at what he was doing. Once he got to the top of the van, he cautiously stepped on the top of it, before jumping off and grabbing the top of the tour bus and pulling himself up.

I stared up at the top of the bus, where Zack’s body had disappeared momentarily.

“Um, Zack? What are you doing?” I called up to him, my voice a little raspy and eyes still droopy from just waking up.

I saw his head pop into view, over the side of the bus to look down at me, fifteen feet below. “Come on, Bails. Come up!”

“Are you crazy?!” I whispered harshly, looking around hesitantly.

“Not if you do it with me,” he said smoothly, trying to persuade me. He smiled at me and waved me up. “Come on, scaredy cat.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, it being cut short by one of my yawns interrupting. “Fine. But if I break a leg…”

“You won’t. I swear on your life.”

I had my right foot positioned on the van and my left stationary on the side of the tour bus. Stopping to look up at him, I gave him a surprised look, “Good to know! I think I like you swearing on your own life, Zachary.” I carefully inched up the sides of the vehicles, using my arms to support myself.

“You are my life.”

I stopped inching up the sides to look back up at him. He was smiling, charmingly but I just laughed. “Cheesy line!” He laughed aloud. “Especially coming from the guy who doesn’t eat cheese.”

“Just climb, Bailey,” he chuckled. I finally reached the top of the van and climbed on top gingerly, to not disturb the people inside. Once I was standing on it, I looked up at Zack; he seemed so far away, as my average sized body stood almost eight feet below the ceiling of the bus. Without me asking, Zack leaned down and reached his hand down to help pull me up. In one swift motion, he brought up to the top of the bus with him.

We sat on the edge of the tour bus, our feet dangling off. It was still chilly out, but with our hands entwined and bodies close to warm each other, we watched the sun poke through the trees of Allentown, Pennsylvania. I rested my head lightly on his shoulder and watched the light colors of pink, orange and yellow very slowly start to grow and become brighter. We simply sat in a comforting silence as we watched the morning approach.

After several minutes of peace, Zack whispered, “Bailey?”

“Hmm?” I said, feeling too comfortable against his side, daring to fall asleep.

“I-I-” he paused, as if he was struggling to get out words or having trouble expressing his feelings with the right words. “I love you.”

His words sounded so soft and earnest as they left his lips. There was so much emotion behind his words. I raised my head and looked at him. ‘I love you’ wasn’t enough for me anymore. I wanted a word and a phrase that was deeper than love. With the beautiful scene around us, him traveling around the world, living his dream, and the fact that I could feel so free and happy right now even though we were dealing with some pretty trying events during the past few days, ‘I love you’ couldn’t describe the feelings I had in the slightest.

But there was nothing else to say but that. I turned and planted a sweet kiss on his shoulder and laid my head back down. “I love you, Zack.”

I felt his chest rising and falling peacefully underneath my head, feeling his muscles in his arms and upper body.

I loved that he was so strong, that he could over power me. I was his tiny girl. He could easily crush me or squeeze my sides too tight. However, it made me feel safe. Protection, armor, assurance. Fervor, devotion, passion.

It was the perfect, little things. I loved the way he could stand behind me and loop his arms around my back and his arms fit perfectly around my torso. It was like our bodies just molded together; over time the nooks and crannies in our bodies adjusted so we fit together like puzzle pieces. His neck had formed so every dent and curve of my face could hide in it. Our legs suddenly could fit together without discomfort from lying together, tangled for hours.

Our brains had shaped as one too. By a simple change in the shape of the crinkles in the corner of his eyes, the scrunch of the nose of the amount of teeth showing in his smile, I knew exactly what he was feeling. He could finish my sentences. And not just know what I was saying, but choose the exact word to describe what I couldn’t get out. Sometimes I couldn’t even see what was wrong, how I felt and what was bugging me, and he knew. He could just tell.

I don’t know how, in the whole fucking world I was allowed to have him. But Zack was given to me. Someone saw me on this massive world. I was brought to Lutherville and I was brought to bump into him on a sidewalk. I don’t really know why it was supposed to be me that Zack fell for; I was like an unsolved medical mystery. It felt like Zack was always trying to fix me. But he did it so damn well.

Sometimes I spent hours laying in my bed after we had gotten off the phone with each other at night. I tried to pin what I loved him. But there wasn’t anything that made him amazing. It was everything. It’s like trying to figure out what made a chocolate chip cookie so good. I’m sure some would think it’s the chocolate chips, or the sugar, or the warmth once they get out of the oven. Bu what would happen if you took out the ¼ teaspoon of baking powder? Or the 1/3 tablespoon of vanilla extract? Not so good anymore.

Zack was a collection of incredible. He had minted my life so much that if he left, I don’t think I would be me anymore. We had formed together. You could pile all the ingredients of those chocolate chip cookies together, but someone has to turn on the over, beat the eggs, mix the batter, scoop the dough onto the pans and most importantly, take the cookies out when they’re done.

In the tranquility of the morning, the sun rose fully and the air heated a little. I fell asleep on Zack’s shoulder, his arm looped around my back and planted on the roof of the bus, on top of the world, to support us both.

==========

The smell of heat and burning filled the bus as I stood beside the oven. Judging by the smell it was emitting, I decided that the oven hadn’t been used in a while. It was a pretty crappy one, it being on a cheap tour bus and all, but it would suffice for my cooking ability, or lack thereof.

All Time Low had to do interviews and signings this morning. My morning started off great, Zack waking me up and sharing an intimate moment with each other, but I had to start getting used to occasions like that getting interrupted. Whether it was a cell phone ringing pulling him out of bed, or his obnoxious merch guy yelling at our bodies perched in the sun rise pulling him out of slumber, Zack was always being pulled one way and dragged in another. The more they rose to fame, graduating into a tour bus and headlining tours, the more I had to get used to dealing with it.

“Jack wasn’t kidding when he said you sucked ass at cooking.”

I turned and glared at John, who conveniently didn’t have anything to do this morning. “Shut up.”

“Isn’t this supposed to come natural to you? Being in the kitchen all that? You are a woman.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, scooping batter from the muffin cups that were overflowing and plopping it into empty ones.

“Honestly,” John laughed, picking up the package. “It says “Just Add Milk!” yet you make it look like you’re making a fuckin’ crème brulee.”

Still focused on making each of the muffin tins even with the others, I defended myself, “It just takes a little bit to master,” I shrugged, licking the spoon I was dishing with.

“Yeah, I know pouring milk into the ½ measuring cup took me 20 years to master myself. So, I applaud you.”

I stood up straight, instead of leaning over the pan at eye level, and jeered at him. “Shut up.” I turned to throw the spoon I had finished licking clean and my elbow hit the pan, almost knocking it off the counter. I watched in shock as it teetered on the edge, daring to fall to the ground. Quickly John sprung and balanced it.

“Maybe I should take over, huh?” he smirked, bumping his butt hard into my hip and pushing me out of the way. With an excited spark in his eye, he picked up the muffing batter to put them in the oven, which had been preheated and waiting well over ten minutes.

Not caring if he finished up the cooking, kitchen crap, I stood back and let him do his thing. Behind me, I heard someone clear their throat lightly and I turned to see Melanie having emerged from her bunk finally.

She walked over to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me down on the leather couch with her.

“Um…what’s up, Mel?”

She spoke softly, even though I was sure John wasn’t listening, lost in his world as softly sang Michael Jackson and cleaned up my mess. “What would you do if you kissed someone you weren’t supposed to?”

I looked at her, surprised; no one really came to me for advice. It wasn’t offensive to me or anything, I just wasn’t the best with words. Unlike Melanie, I was the kind of girl who thought before speaking, thoroughly.

“Well um…I guess—wait. Who’d you kiss?!”

“Someone I wasn’t’ supposed too,” she said blatantly.

I eyed her suspiciously. “Alright,” I said slowly. “Um, well was it someone in a relationship of something? Someone you weren’t supposed to?”

“No, just someone I shouldn’t have I guess.” I watched as she rung her hands together and I imagined her palms sweating, having this uncomfortable conversation with me, nervous for what I would say.

“Oh.” I pondered, not really knowing what to say, but wondering fully who this guy was. “I guess, it’s in the past now, you can’t change it. Just don’t do it again?”

She nodded. I could tell there was something she wasn’t telling me, but wanted to. She almost looked confused with herself.

“Did you…want to? Do it again, that is.”

“I don’t know.” I sat silently, just watching her and observing her emotionless face. “I don’t really know what—”

“What’s the question?” John asked, bounding over to us. He plopped himself down on the other side of Melanie. It really looked like Melanie was actually going to tell John. Surprising. It was like John was just so easy to trust. I think it was because he says it like it is. He doesn’t sugar coat. Honest. There was something about that that was very trustworthy. He wouldn’t lie if you asked him a question, yet he could keep everything, locked in his head, not telling people your secrets.

I think Melanie felt that too with John. And I honestly thought she would have said something if the boys wouldn’t have walked in so abruptly.

“Never mind,” she mumbled, turning her attention in the direction of the returning boys with a cheery smile.

“What up!” Alex shouted, walking through to the bunks.

Jack walked in next, sniffing the air obnoxiously as the blueberry muffin scent floated around our heads, “Food?!” Rian walked in next, Matt with him, talking in depth about something and walking around Jack, who had his butt sticking up in the air, as he bent over to peek in the oven at the rising muffins.

Zack entered about a minute later, hanging up his phone after saying goodbye to his mother. I watched Melanie stand up and announce she was going to go help set up merch with Vinny and Jack immediately took her spot, in between John and I.

I studied the five boys that had just walked on the bus. Then I peaked out the window at all the boys bustling around outside; too many to pick through. Any of them could have been Melanie’s mystery.

“That’s Melanie?” John asked after she walked off. I nodded. “Mm mm!” he commented. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen his eyes follow her derrière with every step she took. “She’s single?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“Whoa, JohnOhhh!” Jack said, almost sounding upset. “That’s Lil’ Fly. Keep your hands to yourself.”

I laughed, picturing Matt, Alex, Zack, Rian, Jack, Vinny, Danny, Grieco and Collussy surrounding the helpless, blunt, gangly John. He wouldn’t stand a chance if he even took a jab at Melanie’s heart.

John shrugged, not really taking Jack’s warning too seriously. I noticed he didn’t take things too seriously; he would fit right in on this tour.

A soft beeping noise rang towards us and I looked in the direction from where it was coming. Before shifting towards the cheap oven, Jack and John both sprung up, hollering, “Muffins are fucking done!!!”