Even Lovers Drown

Eyebrows drawn, Saylor leaned against the box tower. She scanned the note again, slowly taking in each cursive word. Her heart thumped against her ribcage, her stomach flipped. Thoughts swirled in her head, clashing and colliding till a dull pain stabbed her temple.

Blake went out of her way to write her a note and hide it in the U-haul. Just to apologize, to extend her hand in friendship. And she thought Saylor was beautiful. The word stood out in Blake's cursive handwriting. No "buts" followed, no statements that Saylor need to change anything. All she wanted was a chance to get to know Saylor.

The giddy excitement that coursed through her veins, clumsy as it would have been in high school, came to a crashing halt. Images of Katie and the notes they passed in their English course behind their professor's back flooded her memory. Sweet notes to get to know each other. Favorite animals, favorite movies, favorite colors, everything had been learned through notes swapped in the back of class. Each one had been kept in a binder that Saylor looked through frequently before and while they were together. And then, each note had been burned by Saylor's reluctant hands so she wouldn't be tempted to reminisce what would never be again.

Lungs constricting, tears perking in her eyes, Saylor was forced to remember. Blake's kind words and apology meant nothing, were only reminders of what she wanted to get over. She was still Blake, womanizing, cocky, peppermint-wearing, golden blonde, sapphire-blue-eyed Blake. No amount of apologies could change that.

But Saylor wanted them to. She wanted an apology to be able to force Katie out of her mind so she could move on and give Blake chance. Her heart ached for the relationship, though her mind warned against it. She didn't understand, the mix of fear and want far more confusing than anything she had dealt with.

Shaking her head, Saylor refolded the note and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans. She wasn't going to attempt to work through her feelings now. More important things needed to be done, like getting back to the merch table and finishing set up before the start of the show.

She grabbed the box of accessories, hopped out of the U-haul, and shut and locked the sliding door. Sweltering heat beating down on her, Saylor rushed across the parking lot again, this time to the venue. She pushed the door open with her back, hands full with the slightly heavy merchandise box. A cool burst of air hit her, chilling her with soothing relief. With a content sigh, she reveled in the venues air conditioning, just what she needed after her brief battle with the heat and her mess of emotions.

Blake's note held her up longer than necessary in the stuffy U-haul and would probably distract her while she was supposed to be working. Some fan would get the wrong change or shirt. She would lose much needed sleep over this, deciding what she should do. Give Blake a chance and try to force her healing to quicken or keep shutting Blake out without explanation, her options. And she would debate over them all night. But that was fine. Nightmares of her time with Katie wouldn't get the chance to plague her.

Saylor continued through the venue, returning to her task. She nodded to a few people she recognized, lights and effects workers that she helped out earlier. Ignoring Blake managed to gain her some acquaintances. Not quite friends but people she could acknowledge and occasionally talk to. She was becoming a bit more social, making progress. She lost all of her friends while with Katie. Now, she had the opportunity to make new ones, and she felt she was taking the opportunity. And that made her feel good about her decision to travel.

Granted, the lightening and effects workers she met were all men, and her problem was with women. The technicality didn't make her new acquaintances feel any less like progress to her.

She spotted Davy at the merch table staring up at the display. His critical eyes searched for any visually unappealing flaws in the setup of the band merchandise. A neat display was important in catching attention and selling more merch. Or according to Davy, it was.

"Back," Saylor announced, as she reached the table.

"I don't feel so lonely anymore," Davy returned, smiling at her. "Where have you been all my life?"

Laughing, she placed the box on the back table. "In the back of a merch truck. Here are your keys," she said.

She tossed the U-haul keys to him. With one hand, he caught them and shoved them into his pocket. His smile broadened, Saylor assumed at his sudden hand-eye-coordination. Chuckling, she grabbed the accessories box again and placed it in its proper spot below the table, making sure it was out of the way so no one tripped while working. While she worked, she could feel Davy's green eyes on her, burning imaginary holes into her skin. Almost unnerving. Clearly, he wanted to talk. About what, she wasn't too sure. But he was waiting for her to tell him something, expected her to say something.

Turning to look at him, she asked, "What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "Anything interesting happen out there?"

Saylor tilted her head. The question seemed strange, unprompted. She didn't think Blake's note had thrown her off enough to show physically. Her nerves weren't running rampant, her body hadn't succumbed to shakes, she wasn't tense. She felt strangely relaxed, though the sea of confusing emotions threatened to drown her. There shouldn't have been any reason for Davy to be suspicious.

Unless he already knew and was waiting for her to dish.

"No, why?"

"No reason. You were just out there for awhile."

A lame explanation. She hadn't been away long enough to warrant questioning. Davy knew about the note but he wouldn't tell her that. He wanted her to tell him on her own, to spill the details of finding the surprise on the accessories box that he must have left in the U-haul on purpose, to tell him what she was feeling about the note. But he wasn't going to tell her that he helped Blake get the note in there. How else would Blake have managed to get the keys the U-haul?

But that was all speculation.

"It took awhile to find where you hid the box," Saylor said.

Too bad for him, Saylor didn't have her emotions in check enough to willingly talk about the note. Maybe she would later, but not now.

"Oh," Davy said, confused, "Okay."

Brows furrowed, he turned his attention back to the merch display. The corners of Saylor's lips tugged upward in a small smile. He would rather flounder in his own bewilderment than admit to knowing. Various situations were running through his head, possibilities of what may have happened to the note, whose hands it may have ended up in, what kind of damage control he would have to do. He preferred worrying to confessing to conspiring with Blake.

She didn't understand why he wouldn't tell her he knew there was a note from Blake waiting for her in the truck, that it was on top of the box he sent her to get and that he knew she would have been too curious not to read it there. She wouldn't be mad. Davy had made it clear that he thought Blake was good for her, and Blake was his friend. Of course, he would help her. Saylor wouldn't expect anything less from him.

Letting Davy muse, Saylor grabbed the tip jar from one of the many boxes tucked neatly under their back table of folded merch and placed it on the front table. Directly in the center, handmade label reading "Help feed the unicorns" in rainbow letters facing outward, just the way Davy demanded it be placed.

She started to turn away from the delightfully decorated tip jar with the intention of helping Davy finish decorating the display but stopped short, eyes hooking on the blonde walking towards the table. Her heart raced, her lungs constricted, the note in her pocket felt like it was burning a hole in her jeans.

She wasn't ready to face Blake so soon. She hadn't had time to think yet, hadn't figured out how she felt about the offer to fix things, hadn't decided how she wanted to act around her. Burrowing under the merch table seemed her best option to avoid the situation entirely, but it was too late for that. Blake's blue eyes were already fixed on her. She knew Saylor was there.

Blake stopped in front of the table, small, almost timid, smile on her face. "Hi."

Saylor remained frozen in her spot, staring at Blake. Her body refused to move, her vocal cords refused to work. No immediate solution pushed its way through the mass of thoughts in her head.

"Blake, what are you doing here?" Davy asked.

"Just thought I'd stop by," Blake said.

"I thought you were busy getting ready, you know, for the show."

Code words for Blake was supposed wait till later to talk to Saylor again. Blake caught on and she knew Davy was probably right. But she was afraid Hayden would get a hold of the candy bar meant for Saylor, the one Davy said was Saylor's favorite. Anything chocolaty in the kitchen area was fair game for Hunter's never-ending sweet tooth. Blake wasn't in the mood to risk it.

She was risking a lot more by coming to the table so soon over the fate of the candy bar. Buying another at the next stop wouldn't be difficult. But it wasn't just the possibility of having the candy bar eaten that worried her. Blake wasn't a fan of chocolate and asking her band mates where a missing chocolate bar she bought was would make them ask questions. She would have to tell them that she bought it for Saylor, hoping to soften her up by buying her things she liked. They would tease her, Sage would bring up her failure to win over a girl in high school again, Andy would get angry. The chocolate bar was better off a secret.

"I finished early," Blake said, motioning to her attire. It wasn't too hard to throw on clothing and slap on makeup so she could stop by the merch table early. "Actually, Saylor, I bought you this." Blake pulled the chocolate bar out of the pocket of her black cargo pants and held it out to her. "I heard caramel-filled chocolate is your favorite."