Green and Gray

Landon had left that Sunday to visit his family back in the UK. We spent his last night in his room and I woke up alone. It wasn't a good feeling. I blamed it on his early flight and him being considerate of my sleep. My chest ached a little bit without him there, even though we weren't exactly getting along as well as I hoped. It didn't ache as much as when John was yelling at me in my apartment that day, though. I felt the need to ignore the way my body reacted differently between the two boys.

Like how I felt the need to impress Landon still after almost two months of dating, while on my first date with John, I felt as comfortable as can be. I felt like I had to try my hardest to be the best I could be with Landon, meaning I had to be made up with makeup at all times and wearing my best clothes. Landon's father was rich, so that meant he was rich. I wasn't rich, I only got expensive things sent to me from my closest relative. I felt uncomfortable when I wore something I bought at Forever21 when I was with Landon or when I wore one of my band t-shirts with a pair of jeans and some Converse. I knew it was wrong to feel that way, but I was so desperate for him to want to be with me, that I was almost fake.

The few days I spent alone without Landon and John made me sad and depressed. I was putting every ounce of hope I had on our trip to LA. I had a feeling it would be one to remember. In the back of my mind, I felt like it was a bad idea, but the nagging feeling wasn't dominate enough to keep me home.

John had band practice that Wednesday to get themselves ready for their show that Friday and I had to work, so we didn't get on the road until about four. We took my car, but he drove. He assured me he was a perfectly safe driver since all those early years of the band, he drove a sixteen passenger van with a trailer all across the country.

I was amped to get out there and it felt like he was too, every time he spoke excitedly about stories from the times The Maine played out there or when they were recording their latest album. I smiled at his enthusiasm as I listened to every word that fell from his lips. Any story he told me had me completely enthralled. He told me about Nick and Sawyer and how he wished to be in a relationship like theirs because they were so in love.

“You'll really like Sawyer.” He had said as we passed through Blythe, California, right outside of Arizona, “She's a complete sweetheart and is a really cool chick.”

I nodded, tapping my fingers against the door to the beat of “On The Bus Mall” by The Decemberists. I was in charge of music at the time, “She's our age, right?” I questioned curiously.

He chuckled, not once looking away from the open road in front of us, “She's actually only nineteen.”

My eyes widened, “Whoa.” Realization hit me, “Wait, Nick said their two year anniversary is next month...”

He nodded, “It is. They got married on her eighteenth birthday.”

Once again, my eyes widened, “Damn. That's something I would never do.”

Eighteen was such a young age to get married. When I was eighteen, all I was worried about was graduating high school and trying to move on from Erika's death. Marriage wasn't even in my thoughts when I turned eighteen. It still wasn't in my thoughts and I was almost twenty-two.

He shrugged in response, “But, I mean, they probably knew each other for a long time before, right?”

He smiled and laughed, “Oh yeah, definitely.” I nodded once, but he wasn't done talking, “Four days is a long time, right?”

My jaw dropped, “What?! Four days?!”

He cracked up, “Let me tell you the whole story.” He said through one of his last chuckles, “Sawyer moved out to Hollywood at sixteen because her parents moved to Arizona.-”

“Sixteen?!”

“Yeah. She wanted to finish school there or something. I don't know.” My mind whirled, “So Nick knows Hanley, Sawyer's roommate, from back in Massachusetts, which is where he's originally from, and he needed a place for Rocket to stay for like a week or some shit. Hanley was out of town and, I guess, Sawyer was supposed to be, too. Nick and Sawyer hit if off, he took her to Vegas for her birthday that Friday and they got married without anyone knowing. I didn't find out until May.”

My eyes were wide and I was in shock, “Holy shit. And they're still together?”

He nodded, “They've had a few bumps, but they couldn't be happier.”

How someone could marry a complete stranger baffled me to no end, “I don't plan on getting married until my late twenties or earlier thirties. That's too much responsibility for such a young age.”

He agreed while switching lanes to pass a semi, “Some people make it work, but I'm still young. I would love to start my own family, but not yet.”

We sat in a comfortable silence, ultimately thinking about our lives down the line. I couldn't help but picture mine with him by my side. It was so wrong seeing as I had Landon, but I couldn't help it; it just felt so right.

We were nearing the end of The Decemberists' album “Her Majesty” when John started talking again. “I Was Meant For the Stage” was three fourths the way over and I was slapping my hands against my knees that were curled up to my chest to the beat.

“I noticed the other night that your family calls you Bird.” He said as he glanced over at me then back at the road. The sun was already setting in front of us and we were nowhere close to being almost to Los Angeles.

I nodded, bringing my makeshift-drum banging to a stop, “Ever since I was little.”

“Where did it come from?”

I laughed, “My name? I'm named after a bird, John.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed, “So they just automatically started calling you that?”

Realizing what he was really asking, I backtracked, “Well, no. My dad was the first to call me it, then my mom thought it was cute, so she started calling me it. Now practically everyone calls me it.” I shrugged.

Just then, the line “Ladybird, you are the prettiest song I heard” from the last song on the album-“As I Rise”- sang throughout my Jeep. I couldn't help but laugh and John smirked.

“I'm going to start calling you Ladybird.” He smiled. In response, I chuckled and shook my head, “It makes perfect sense to call you that. It's half of your nickname already, you're a lady, and it just happens to be your favorite band that wrote the lyric.”

I looked over at him. He was smiling and looking over at me every so often, just long enough that he didn't swerve or rear end the BMW in front of us. John had two smiles. There was the crooked one that didn't exactly reach his eyes, then there was the one he was sending my way as we drove down the highway. It was big, bright, and contagious, and brightened his already bright green eyes. That one was my favorite.

There was a lot we could have talked about on the ride to Los Angeles. There was a lot we should have talked about, but we just sat and bullshitted about random things. Only occasionally did we get into serious topics. John knew how to keep conversation light and fun and I was thankful. I knew, though, that we were going to have to talk about our fight at my apartment sooner or later.

We got into Hollywood at almost eleven PM. My body was aching from sitting for so long and John looked pretty worn out. It wasn't as busy as I thought it would be on Sunset Boulevard, but John said it was due to the late hour and the fact that it was the middle of the week.

We grabbed a bite to eat at In-n-Out (how cliché) then made our way to the Santino's apartment building that was on a street right off of Sunset, down the street from The Roxy. I loved Hollywood. It was love at first sight when I went for my senior year's spring break. The shopping was amazing, much better than Tempe or Phoenix. It still amazed me that Sawyer had been living there for three or four years.

We hauled our luggage up to the eighth floor after we parked in the underground parking garage. John decided to be a gentleman and carry my duffel bag up for me while I carried my purse and makeup case. I didn't bring much, but I never went on vacation without my Caboodle.

Nick was the one who answered the door when I rang the doorbell, “Hey! You made it!” He greeted us with a smile.

“Yeah, it was a long drive.” John said as I followed him into the apartment.

“Hey, Sparrow, how are you?” He smiled as he pulled me into a hug.

“I'm pretty good, how are you? I politely asked.

“I'm doing great, thanks for asking.”

“Where's my best friend?” John demanded while I looked around the apartment. It was spacious with gray walls. We were standing in the living room and connected dining room. The kitchen was on the other side, with a bar separating it from everything else. Next to that there was a hallway leading to the bedrooms, I presumed. It was nice and I was jealous.

“JohnOh!” A feminine voice broke me away from my thoughts and wandering eyes. When I turned to where the voice came from, I saw a girl in John's arms. I couldn't stop the jealousy from surging through my veins.

“Okay, JohnOh, that's my wife you're fondling.” Nick said with a laugh.

“Oh, shut up!” Sawyer said to her husband as John let her down, “You know you're the only one I let fondle me.”

I watched as John's face scrunched up in disgust, “Gross.”

Sawyer snickered. It was then that I took in her appearance. She was tiny compared to Nick and John, wearing a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. She had long, black, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes. Her smile spread across her face in a way that could brighten a room. On her exposed right thigh was a tattoo of a dream catcher and when she turned, I caught a glimpse of another tattoo – flowers – on her left shoulder. The work was gorgeous. She was gorgeous.

“You must be Sparrow.” She spoke with a smile.

“Uh, yeah.” I nodded, returning the smile, “And you must be Sawyer.”

She nodded, “I've heard a lot about you from this faggot over here.”

I laughed when John shot her a dirty look, “Oh? Well I heard a lot about you from Nick a few weeks ago when I was kidnapped and dragged to Seattle.”

She laughed, “I heard about that.”

We stood in the entry way for a couple of awkward seconds before Nick spoke, “Well, I'm sure you guys are beat from the drive, so Hanley's room is down the hall.”

“We're going to go to bed.” Sawyer said this time, “It was nice to meet you.”

I smiled at her again, “You, too.” Then they were gone.

“Come on, I'll show you to Hanley's room.” John said softly then started down the hall.

Hanley's room was spacious and had its own bathroom. The walls were red and had a framed picture of Marilyn Monroe on one side of the bed and one of Bettie Page on the other. John set my bag down on the bench at the foot of her bed and I set my makeup and purse next to it.

“Okay, well, I'll see you in the morning.” He said awkwardly.

I was confused, “Where are you going?” I asked, stopping him from walking out of the room.

“I was going to sleep on the couch...”

Immediately, I shook my head, “This bed has got to be big enough for the both of us.” I motioned to the king sized bed in the center of the room.

“But won't that be awkward?” He questioned cautiously.

“We've shared a bed before, John. We're friends, come on.” I reached out and tugged on his right hand.

“Fine, you've talked me into it.” He smirked.

I smiled lightly at him as he shut the door. I went to my bag as he shrugged off his backpack and pulled out my pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt, “I'm going to go change.” I quietly said then walked over to the bathroom.

John was already under the covers of the black comforter, flipping through the channels on the TV when I walked out of the bathroom. I didn't realize how tired I was until I sank into the mattress and pillows.

“Goodnight, Ladybird.” I heard John say while my eyes closed.

I smiled softly at the mention of my new nickname, “Goodnight, John.”