What Makes It Wrong for Us to Fall in Love?

Nothing changed two weeks later, no one used the internet.

So far.

One morning, though, Tim made an announcement not everyone was happy to hear.

"Flat tire, guys." Tim announced to us as he re entered the bus after we asked why the bus had stopped.

"Flat tire? How the fuck does that happen?! It's a fucking tour bus!" Jawn exclaimed.

"Calm down, okay?" Tim walked to the door on his way to his bunk. "It'll get fixed tomorrow. We're in a safe place, I think,"

"Yeah, because nothing's safer than being stuck in the middle of a fucking highway at three in the morning." Jawn sarcastically agreed.

"Well, I don't know about you retards, but I'm going back to bed." Stephen grumbled as he got up from beside me and followed Tim.

The rest of my band mates followed him.

"Does anyone want breakfast?" Jared beamed.

"You're too nice." Pat beamed back.

--

"Thanks for breakfast, Jare, I'm going back to sleep." Kennedy stood up.

"Yeah, I'm heading back to sleep too." Jared acknowledged Kennedy's gratitude and they went off together.

I looked at Jawn who was wide awake, then at Garrett, who too was wide awake, and to Pat, who sure as hell was wide awake as well.

"So, who can think of something to do at four twenty eight in the morning?" Garrett enthusiastically asked.

"Here or outside the bus?" Jawn excitedly replied.

"What d'you think, Pat?" Garrett turned to his best friend.

Pat looked out the window. "Erm, outside!"

Garrett grabbed Pat's hand and started running off.

"What are we even gonna do? We haven't even decided yet!" Jawn yelled after them.

Garrett and Pat immediately slowed down.

Garrett let go of Pat's hand and looked back at Jawn. "Frisbee!"

"Frisbee!" Pat repeated.

"Fuck yeah." Jawn got up. "It's in my bunk, wait a sec," Then he left to get the Frisbee disk.

"So, Jess, was there any reason Jawn was singing Right Girl to you two weeks ago?" Garrett looked at me.

"What?" My head snapped towards his direction.

"Two weeks ago. The pinky promise show? You don't remember? Tell me you remember, it was one of the most eventful shows in my entire life." He laughed.

"I remember the show, what I don't remember is Jawn singing Right Girl to me."

"We haven't even gotten that into recording yet. Or planned for putting it in the next record. Ahm." Garrett ran his fingers through his hair. "We're going into recording after this tour, do you know that?"

"You've mentioned it." I bit my lip. "So that song.."

"It's about doing the wrong thing to the right girl, have you not been paying attention?" Garrett rolled his eyes.

"I guess I wasn't to not have noticed he was singing it to me?" The statement sounded like a question.

"I'm just wondering why-- Fuck!" Garrett yelled as he took a Frisbee to the stomach.

Pat and I turned to where we saw the Frisbee flying from and saw Jawn at the opposite of the hall as he walked to us.

"What are we talking about here?" Jawn beamed as he picked the Frisbee up off the ground and patted Garrett.

"Nothing, really." I tucked my hair behind my ears.

"Alright, well come on, doll, let's go." He grabbed my hand and started dragging me out the bus with Pat and Garrett.

"Uhm, I think I'll sit out." I pried myself away from Jawn who had just tossed the disk to the opposite of the dusky and lone 5 am highway with Pat chasing it.

"Aw, why?" Jawn sadly asked as he watched Pat retrieve the disk in his hand with ease.

"I don't know how to throw a fucking Frisbee, I'm sorry?" I walked over to the grassy part of the road and sat down, crossing my legs. "Have fun, though."

"Oh, and what, you're just gonna watch the sun rise? That's too cliche." He teased. "And if it means anything to you, none of us are good, we just do this for fun. Ain't I right, Garrett?"

Garrett shrugged and walked over to Pat.

"Come on," He took my hand and forced me up with him.

"No," I groaned.

"Yes, come on." He succeeded in getting me up.

"I don't even know how to hold it." I scoffed.

"This is why I'm gonna teach you." He scratched his head. "Uhm," He let go of my hand.

"How do you plan on teaching me, Sir O'Callaghan?"

"Pat," Jawn wadded his finger, and Pat threw the disk at him.

"Here." He caught the Frisbee easily and handed it to me. "All you have to do is put your middle, ring, and pinky finger on the inside of the rim of the disk, alright? Then you put your index finger on the area where the frisbee starts to sort of curve. And then you put your thumb on the top. That's how you hold it."

I squinted at him as I clutched onto the Frisbee. "What?"

He bit his lip. "You didn't understand that, did you?"

I shook my head.

"You," He put his hands on mine and started guiding my fingers to the position he had explained so unproductively. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Don't mind what?" I looked up from my hands to his face.

"Me sort of touching your hand."

"Nah, it's fine." I grinned at him as he went back to fixing my fingers onto the disk. "Why would I mind?"

He shrugged. "No reason."

"Oh, so helping me hold a Frisbee isn't any more cliche than watching the sun rise?"

He stuck his tongue out at me and my comeback then focused himself on positioning my fingers. Then he finished.

"Now what do I do with it,"

"You toss it."

"How,"

"Just do it like Pat did."

I tried and miserably failed with the disk plummeting to the ground.

Pat laughed and picked it up. "That's not how I did it."

"Well how do you do it?"

"It's all in the wrist." Pat beamed and ran off while throwing the disk to Jawn.

He caught it again. "Doll,"

I pouted. "Sorry."

"It's fine." He pinched my nose. "You're a doll."

I made a face at him as he smirked at me again while he tossed the disk.

"Garrett, heads up."