The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

Ari

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I do my makeup in the bus’s cramped bathroom, regardless of the fact that it annoys everyone else to no end. I’ve just finished straightening my hair, even though it raises the temperature in the bathroom like you wouldn’t believe.

“What are you getting so made up for?” Adie asks, popping her head into the bathroom as I rearrange my bangs.

“Adie, this is Warped Tour,” I point out.

“Yes, Ari, it is…” my sister answers me sardonically, studying her nails. I roll my eyes as I finish applying eyeliner.

“Do you know the percentage of girls compared to guys here?” I continue, regardless of her sarcasm.

“No,” Adie replies with an air of nonchalance. “And I’m guessing you don’t, either.”

“No, but it doesn’t hurt to look nice, you know?” I grin suggestively.

I’m not shallow or vain, I swear…I’m just very conscious.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I ask her for the tenth time tonight.

“Pretty positive,” she answers, causally picking at a loose piece of skin near her thumbnail. She tucks a strand of magenta hair behind her ear.

“What are you going to do then?” I ask curiously, turning to face my twin. She shrugs innocently in response, immediately arousing my sense of suspicion.

“I don’t have anything planned,” Adie remarks, to which I respond with a disbelieving snort.

“Right,” I state sarcastically, not pushing it, even though I know she’s lying.

She doesn’t have a response for me.

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He’s tall.

That’s my first thought.

Skinny. A little too skinny. But fit. Definitely fit.

My object of observation laughs at something William Beckett says and takes a gulp from his plastic cup.

Cute laugh. Tan, curly dark hair- probably Hispanic…I can’t help but list in my head as I pretend to listen to the conversation Leo and a few guys are having next to me.

Chocolate eyes-

Chocolate eyes that meet mine from across the bus, but I don’t look away. My lips curl up in a half smile automatically, which he returns immediately with a goofy grin.

I choose this moment to break eye contact and make my way toward the counter laden with plastic cups and various types and volumes of alcohol.

As I’ve predicted, he follows and leans against the counter next to me without saying anything after he pretends to refill his cup.

“Got to be a singer,” he suddenly speaks. I shoot him a curious side-glance. “Oh, and five minutes,” he adds, smirking. I raise an eyebrow. “First impressions,” he answers.

“Right,” I reply. “But five minutes?” I repeat, confused.

“Five minutes it would take for you to talk my clothes off,” he smirks playfully. He takes a sip of his drink. “Your turn.”

“Bassist,” I guess, playing along.

“Close,” he allows. “Played bass and sang in my last band. Now I just sing.”

“…and you’d have to work a little harder for that last one,” I add. He laughs.

“I’m Gabe,” he remarks, smiling and taking my smaller hand in his.

“Ari,” I state confidently, sending another smile his way.

“Ari,” he repeats. “Que nombre bonita pa’ una mujer tan bella,” the words roll off his tongue as smooth as syrup, but I don’t understand them.

“I forgot my Spanish-English dictionary back on my bus,” I inform him with a smirk. He laughs.

“Maybe I’ll tell you what it means sometime.”