Even Lovers Drown

Dull heat seeped through Saylor's clothing from the surface of the U-haul truck. Above her, the sun rays beat down, far hotter than the heat radiating from the truck. Sweat threatened to trickle from her hairline. Less than fifteen minutes in the obnoxious heat, waiting for Davy to return with their merch booth location, and her skin already felt like it was cooking.

But she ignored her discomfort the best she could, continuing to lean against the U-haul's side. Sarah and Jenny had long since run off to find shelter from the sun, were probably chatting with the opener's drummer they adored so much. Saylor was alone in the sweltering heat.

She watched people pass her carrying equipment and nodded a greeting to the lighting and effects workers she recognized. They dealt with the heat the only way they could. By getting rid of their shirts and rolling up their shorts as high as they could. Some donned swim wear, some donned workout clothing.

In the growing heat, wearing as little clothing as possible in public was an idea that enticed Saylor. The tank top and basketball shorts she wore weren't helping her. Her ever-present sweatband over the scars on her wrist suctioned to her from the sweat accumulating underneath it. She wanted to roll up the tank top, let her stomach tan and hopefully cool her body. She wanted to toss the wristband to the side, get rid of the contraption turning her wrist into a sausage.

And she would have if she could, but the cigarette scars that decorated her wrist would make people ask questions and she wasn't in the mood to unveil the scar that stretched the length of her right side. Not even her family knew about that scar. She hadn't told them Katie pulled a knife on her and made the long cut, a threat more than a punishment. They knew about the burns on her wrist, knew that Katie occasionally put out her cigarettes on Saylor's skin when something was done wrong. Saylor couldn't risk the questions that would come from her fellow merch workers, her brother, workers she did and didn't know, or the band members. Blake and Davy would be the first to notice, she had no doubt, and they were the two she least wanted to ask questions. She would have to remain uncomfortable for the time being.

Sighing, Saylor laid her head back against the U-haul and closed her eyes. She listened to workers bustle about. Laughter, jokes, snide remarks, friends interacting while they worked, their fun unaffected by the heat and heavy lifting.

"Hey."

Blake's voice startled Saylor, breaking her calm. She jumped, eyes snapping open. Blake stood in front of her. Sun light bounced off her blonde hair, her blue eyes shined. The smile on her face, friendly and inviting, added more light to her face. Her customary cargo pants and tank top didn't clothe her, instead a black sport's bra and matching shorts hugged her body greedily, showing off her tight stomach and shapely legs. A hint of excited energy ignited in Saylor's stomach and pulsed lightly through her. She didn't stifle it, couldn't ignore it, but tried not to act on the urges it created.

She would not break her own barriers to touch Blake. No fleeting hand movements, no hugs, and definitely no slamming her against the U-haul and shoving her tongue down her throat.

As calmly as she could, she met Blake's blue eyes again, hoping she hadn't been staring. "Hey," Saylor said, voice friendly, "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be warming up in an air conditioned room or something?"

After a successful first conversation with her, Saylor wasn't going to ignore her or tell her to get lost like she had been since the beginning of tour. She may not have been ready to let go of the Katie comparison, but she would try to talk to Blake, let her keep proving the comparison wrong. She figured her mind would stop making the connection the more she got to know Blake. Logic could overrule irrationality if there was enough to back it up.

"I was helping unload the instruments," Blake said, motioning to one of the nearby storage trucks. "A few of the crew members aren't feeling too well."

Hence her choice in outfit. Blake wasn't going to work in the heat for any period of time in pants and a tee-shirt. She didn't need the extra sweat that would accumulate on her clothing. Her peppermint sprays would have no effect on her stench soon enough and she would have to pull out the car fresheners. She didn't need her laundry bag to smell just as bad.

The extra promise of a shower after the show may have helped sway her decision. There happened to be a couple locker rooms in the venue for the basketball games occasionally held inside. They would be taken advantage of later in the evening by the whole crew. Even Saylor would take a stall at some point. Naked behind a closed curtain, water and soap suds running down her body, an image that Blake quite liked playing through her head. Maybe she would let Blake help soap the hard to reach places if she asked nicely. Or she could get angry with Blake for asking, storm off, and never speak to her again.

Blake wasn't dumb enough to risk it.

"How sweet," Saylor said, a teasing hitch to her sultry voice. "If I say I'm sick, will you unload merchandise for me?"

Blake chuckled. "Cute. I prefer unloading instruments. Plus, Davy can pick up your slack." She paused, searching the area for him, expecting him to cut into the conversation and agree. But he wasn't there, nor were Sarah and Jenny. That explained the lack of high pitched squeals at her outfit. She looked at Saylor again. "Where is everyone?"

"Davy is finding out where the table spaces are, and Sarah and Jenny are..." Saylor shrugged and waved her hand in a nonchalant fashion. "Somewhere."

"Good to know I can come to you if I need one of them," Blake joked.

"They'll show up when we start working."

They always did. Sarah and Jenny would disappear for hours but returned in time to load or unload. Demands implemented by Davy let them know of their duties. Ridiculous threats happened to keep them on track.

"So, um," Blake hesitated a moment. Asking again would risk another defeat, no matter how much she begged. But she would get a proper response this time. She at least deserved that. "Since you're not busy right now, do you think I could get your number?"

An uncomfortable flutter tickled the inside of Saylor's stomach. The beat of her heart sped up. Air left her constricted lungs. The reasons behind her body's reaction were mixed, torn between the excitement of Blake wanting her number and the fear she felt at what that would lead to.

"Blake," Saylor started. She opened and closed her mouth, hoping for the right words—whatever they may be—to form. None came to mind and she settled on the only ones that seemed suitable. "I don't know."

Crushed, that was the only word that could describe the expression that flitted across Blake's face before the rehearsed smile replaced it. The change happened so quickly, Saylor almost missed it. She probably would have if she wasn't looking for Blake's reaction, trying to see if she would get angry like Katie would have.

And Saylor felt a bit of guilt. She hadn't been trying to hurt Blake. She just didn't know how to respond. The friendship Blake was asking for, the one Saylor was sure she wanted to grow into something more, was more than she could offer. At least, for now. They had been getting along well, and she wanted to keep things comfortable. Saylor didn't want her to be upset, especially since Blake had no idea where her reactions were coming from.

"Yeah, no, I understand. Totally. You don't like me that much, I get it," Blake said.

Another failure, second of the day. The denial was inevitable. Blake had already been refused Saylor's number, and a couple of hours wouldn't change Saylor's mind. Asking again in the short time span was asking for the answer she received. She knew she should stop, let her relationship with Saylor slowly blossom, but she was impatient. And though it hurt, the efforts would be worth it in the long run. Hopefully. Assuming their relationship did blossom.

"Blake, it's not that."

"No, it is. I know we're not that close. I just figured, you know, since we don't have that much time around each other, we could text or something." Blake's shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug. "I really want to get to know you, but I understand."

Blake was wrong. How close they were or weren't had no effect on her confusion. And Blake was taking the answer the wrong way. "I don't know" didn't mean "no." Saylor didn't know what to say, how to feel, how to react. She didn't know.

Maybe not being close to Blake truly was the problem, maybe Blake was right. Saylor didn't know Blake enough to stop comparing her to Katie, and that was keeping her from rattling off her number. And if she knew Blake better, then Blake would know enough about Saylor's demolished past relationship to understand her reactions. She wouldn't be standing there with a fake smile on her face, trying to pretend she wasn't hurt.

"Blake," Andy's voice carried across the parking lot, forcing both women to look in his direction. He propped the backstage door open with his foot, clipboard in his hand and headset in place on his head. "Get to sound check," he commanded and disappeared into the venue.

Saylor looked back at Blake, who smiled sadly at her. Their conversation was cut short for the second time that day. Blake wasn't happy with it, and Saylor wasn't all that happy either.

"I'll talk to you later," Blake said, nodding a farewell.

She started walking toward the venue, possibly knowing that any extra time wasted would result in Andy giving her lectures on time management even if the time was spent listening to a quick goodbye. Saylor watched her, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth, the mental battle pounding in her head. No resolution, just conflicted thoughts. She released her lip, took a deep breath, and chose her side.

Saylor jogged the short distance after Blake. "Blake, wait."

Blake looked at her, eyebrows drawn. She said nothing, but waited for a reason to the demand. Saylor stifled the second thoughts she had, the ones that questioned her decision, and ignored the nerves jumping around in her stomach.

"Give me your phone."

The breath-taking, excited smile that lit Blake's face told Saylor she was making the right decision.