Even Lovers Drown

Happiness glittered in Blake's blue eyes. Her toothy smile lit her face and forced her nose to crinkle. A genuine smile, all because Saylor liked the same house pet, and it made her already attractive features even more attractive. Gorgeous, stunning, and Blake was too excited to add a cocky flare. Saylor couldn't keep from smiling in return, couldn't contain the flutter of her heart. That smile was for her.

She would have questioned the happiness radiating from Blake, would have wondered why the question was so important. But this was the first time her likes mattered so much in awhile. Sure, her parents cared and her brother cared. They weren't her problem, though. Women like Blake and Katie, who were interested in her to some degree and who she found herself drawn to, were her problem. To have Blake so happy and smile so broadly over sharing their preference of dogs helped Saylor. A small push in the right direction, encouragement that she could keep talking to Blake regardless of how anxious she may have been.

"Yeah?" Saylor asked.

Blake nodded happily. "Our compatibility level just rose. Looks like I don't have to teach you how to play the clarinet."

"You lucked out. I'm miserable with instruments. Davy tried to teach me how to play guitar in high school. It didn't go so well."

His name drawn into the conversation, Davy turned to the pair. Eyebrow raised, he looked from Blake to Saylor, noting that they seemed to be getting along well enough from the tidbits of conversation that he had heard. Bringing up his name hadn't been a ploy to make him join the conversation and save her. But the topic did demand he make a comment.

"You had to be trying to be that bad," he stated.

"We talked about this, Davy. I gave it my best effort."

"Oh, yeah?" He looked at Blake. "What she did was a crime against music."

"I was not that bad," Saylor argued.

Laughter flowed from Blake's lips, warm and cheerful. Saylor's heart fluttered again, her stomach flipped. Blake's laugh was pretty, reminded Saylor of her expressive singing voice. And Blake wasn't mad that someone else wormed their way into the conversation and that Saylor willingly turned her attention away from her to talk to him.

With a raised eyebrow, Davy shook his head and turned back to Andy. Clearly, he thought Saylor's musical skills had a great deal to be desired. Saylor's mock-exasperated eye roll in return, an action that Blake found adorable, proved she didn't think she was as bad, though she did admit to not being good with instruments. A silly sibling argument that Saylor let her guard down long enough for Blake to see.

"Let's see, no musical talent, Italian food over Mexican, but you do like dogs," Blake said, "How about—"

"Okay, everyone," Andy yelled over the noise, cutting her off before she could ask her next question and catching the attention of the large group of people. "We need to head out or we'll be late."

Various affirmatives were thrown in his direction from the group. Workers ready to get setting up out of the way, opening bands excited to get ready in their dressing rooms and warm up, Say Goodbye members going with Andy's schedule, they were all ready to get the pre-performance necessities taken care of.

But Blake glared at him, the pleasant conversation she had been having broken by his announcement. Saylor was actually talking to her, just barely opening up enough for Blake to get to know her. And he ruined it. The moment could never be recovered. The pleasant Italian restaurant with its delicious smells and flavors that housed their conversation, the force that compelled Saylor to talk to her, and the excitement of getting her to open up for the first time couldn't be recreated. Their conversation was getting somewhere. Blake was sure that if she had more time, she could erase whatever preconceived notions Saylor had of her and at least reach a sort of friendship. Cut short, Blake didn't think she had gotten that far.

It had to end at some point though, and there was nothing Blake could do about that. She would have spent the whole day in the tiny Italian restaurant, talking to Saylor and making her laugh, if she had her way. Unfortunately, she couldn't skip the concert. Too many fans were looking forward to seeing Say Goodbye, and she couldn't disappoint them by missing the show to spend the day with Saylor.

Reluctantly standing, Blake looked back at Saylor, prepared to give a joking farewell that would hopefully end them on a good enough note to keep her on Saylor's good side but stopped short. Saylor, the sexy redhead Blake so desperately desired, was shoving the last bites of pasta into her mouth, her cheeks expanding to accommodate the food and deep red sauce staining her lips. For a moment, Blake was silent, watching food disappear into Saylor's mouth. And then she laughed, a hearty laugh at how silly Saylor looked stuffing food into her mouth so quickly when she could easily ask for a "to go" container. Saylor's wide green eyes snapped up at her. She swallowed the pasta filling her mouth, her cheeks shrinking back to normal size.

"What? I'm hungry," Saylor stated, grabbing her bread and standing.

"I see that," Blake said, laughter filling her voice. She eyed the loose-fitting fabric of Saylor's tee-shirt, wondering just how much space existed between it and her skin. "Maybe you should get pasta made for the road. You look like you need it."

With a friendly smile and parting wave, Blake followed her band mates out of the restaurant. Saylor stared after her, eyebrows drawn. Instead of telling her to stop stuffing her fat face, something Katie would have told her in a heartbeat, Blake told her to get more pasta. But was that meant to be a joke, hinting that Saylor didn't really need to eat anymore?

"You coming?" Davy asked.

Saylor looked at him. "Was Blake being sarcastic?"

He would know if there were negative intentions behind Blake's statement, and Saylor could trust him not to lie about this.

"About you needing to eat? No," Davy said. He watched Saylor's fingers fiddle with the hem of her shirt and the nervous tug of her teeth on her lips. Something about what Blake said bothered her, though there was nothing that should have. She was reading too far into the statement. "What did you think she was trying to say?"

"That I need to lose weight."

"Why would..." he trailed off, realization striking him. "Did Katie tell you that?"

"Yeah."

"You just had a decent conversation with Blake. How can you still think she's like Katie?"

Saylor did enjoy talking to Blake. As awkward as it had been in the beginning, the conversation was comfortable, funny. Blake made her laugh and she made Blake laugh. Each burst of anxiety had been quickly squelched by Blake acting in the exact opposite way Katie would have. Saylor shouldn't have immediately assumed Blake was calling her fat through her parting statement.

But one successful conversation couldn't change her whole opinion. Blake was nice to her, sure, but as long as Saylor was drawn to her, she didn't think she could stop assuming she would act like Katie. Saylor hadn't forgotten about Blake hitting the table in frustration, hadn't forgotten the cocky smile or the invitation to sleep with her, hadn't forgotten what reminded her of Katie.

"Davy, you know I need time. One conversation can't change everything."

"But it is a good start, right?"

Childish hope glinted in his eyes, forcing a smile to Saylor's face. The wait for her stop comparing his friend with her ex was killing him, and he needed reassurance that she was starting to get better, even if only a little bit.

"It's a wonderful start. Thank you for pushing me to talk to her."

"Good, I'm glad it helped." He draped an arm over her shoulder. "Let's get out of here before Andy starts to worry."

He didn't give her time to respond, simply lead her out of the restaurant and into the crowded parking lot, and Saylor let him lead her. A burst of sweat-induced body odor hit her as they entered the crowd. She held back her cringe, knowing she was likely adding to the smell regardless of the amount of body spray she doused herself in. Davy weaved through the crowd with Saylor tucked under his arm, not as put off by the overwhelming smell as Saylor and far more concentrated on leaving on schedule to notice.

They emerged from the crowd, the air barely cleaner than it had been in the, now dispersing, throng of people. But before they could reach the van, seal themselves away from the smell, and depart from the parking lot, a call of "Hey, Saylor" forced them to stop in their tracks. Saylor recognized the voice instantly and assumed Davy did too by the curious look he gave her. They turned and watched Blake jog towards them.

"Hurry up. We only have a couple minutes," Davy said to Saylor, letting his arm fall from her shoulder and walking to the van where Sarah and Jenny waited.

Anxiety didn't engulf Saylor as Blake approached, though it brewed in her veins, waiting for the proper moment to spread through her body. Even when Blake stopped in front of her, nervous smile tweaking the corners of her lips, the anxiety remained dormant.

"Hi," Blake said.

"Is something wrong?" Saylor asked.

"No, I was just wondering if it would be okay if I, uh," she hesitated, "could get your number so I could text you sometime."

Saylor stared at Blake, eyes wide. The anxiety that had been brewing in her veins shot through her, escalating her heartbeat and forcing her lungs to clench. Her number. Blake wanted her number. She waited outside of the tour bus and caught Saylor before she made it to the van to ask for her number. Their conversation couldn't have been so entertaining that Blake needed her number immediately to continue it. This wasn't an extended hand in friendship, this was Blake finding a way to slowly work her way into her life and become something more. Casual texts would morph into consistent good night texts to good night calls to Saylor falling asleep in Blake's bunk while she whispered a "good night" in her ear. Giving Blake her number was a step towards something she wasn't ready for.

"Saylor," Davy called from the van, shattering her thoughts, "We have to leave."

"I have to go." Saylor pointed over her shoulder towards the van.

"Oh, yeah," Blake said, hiding her disappointment with a mock-understanding tone and broad smile. But her blue eyes shone with it. "Me too. I'll see you at the venue."

"Sure, yeah," Saylor mumbled and turned to walk to the van.