Four Corners and Two Sides

Scranton was more crowded than any other city we had been to, surprisingly enough. It took us almost fifteen minutes to work our way through the crowd toward our buses, bags in hands. I followed Kellin, almost losing sight of him at one point until I caught the red plaid of his thin pullover. He was walking a bit too quickly for my taste, and I struggled behind him, getting pushed around without notice.
"Kellin Quinn!"
"Hey, Kellin!"
"Holy shit, that's Kellin."
It must have been around 11:30am, I was guessing, because there was no live music coming from either of the three stages, which meant nobody had started yet. It was a good thing we weren't too late coming back, that way the boys didn't suspect anything, and Jeff wasn't going to verbally assault us. When we parked his car at his trailer, he was nowhere to be found.
"Hey," Kellin reared off towards the SWS bus, walking backwards as I stopped to watch him. "I'm going to find Jeff and drop off his keys. Are you going to bring the super soakers to the guys?"
I nodded and he tossed me a bag with the purples ones.
I stood there, opposite ten feet of Kellin, not sure what to say at that point. He seemed like he was waiting for something too. What he said in the car and the way we were staring at each other twisted my insides. After what had happened, things really were going to change. We would amount to something more, or we would fall apart like wilted flowers. There was no longer a best friend inside of Kellin Quinn. It was a hit or miss. I mentally made a note to take care at the party tonight. If I drank too much, I was certain I would screw both of us over.
I wondered what he was thinking as he slowly waved his hand, a goodbye, and then entered his bus. It took me a moment to move my legs, but I eventually began walking to the rest of The Story of How, becoming more and more giddy as I got closer. A super soaker to Mitchell was like watching a five year old meeting Santa Claus for the first time.
It was a little silly, but sometimes I felt like a parent to Mitchell. Yeah, they were all my brothers, but for some reason, I babied Mitchell more than anyone else. I was just so used to calling him out on his attitude and inappropriate behavior. It was natural for the only woman in the band to say something.
"Hello!" I shouted as I walked into the bus, only to see them all sitting innocently on the couch, watching football. "Since when do any of you like soccer?"
"Shh, it's the semi-finals," Sanders pulled my arm and sat me down next to him. Eric, on my left, got up and walked to the bunks. I sighed, wondering when the Hell he was going to come around. He couldn't avoid me forever.
I rolled my eyes at the television and said, "I hardly care for this. I've got the soakers!"
Mitchell fell on the floor and army crawled to me, using all of his efforts not to disturb Sanders and Eddie, whose eyes were glued to the screen.
"I can't believe they're into this crap," I whispered down to him as he sat up and crossed his legs, staring at the bag.
"They suck balls. P.S. Your mom called."
"P.S. Thanks. Here," I grabbed the smallest green one and placed it on Mitchell's lap. His eyes widened, but not for long as he glared up at me.
"This is a pussy soaker," he grumbled.
"Think about what you just said for a second," I laughed, trying my best to suppress my giggles. It didn't work at all, because Eddie snatched the remote off of the bar and turned up the game. English referees spoke even louder and the noisy cheering made my ears pound.
"Okay, fuck, my bad," I tried to apologize but it was worthless.
"I don't give a damn what I just said. Where's the 300?"
"Nope. Kellin's using that one on Jesse."
"Jesus Christ, he called dibs before it was even acceptable."
"His hands won't be attached to the thing all night. Relax, you'll have your turn."
"Yeah, because his hands are gonna be on you," Mitchell snorted. I smacked him upside the head and shoved him over.
"Okay!" Sanders yelled. "We're trying to look for tears from Portugal so if you're not here to watch, go somewhere else, please."
I helped Mitchell up, and he grabbed the plastic bag before I could. He nudged me toward the bunk area.
Eric's curtain was pulled shut, but I could see his shadow peeking through the material. Mitchell made a move to yank the cover, but I grabbed him back. I shook my head when he gave me a look.
"It's not like he's jerking it."
"Go away." Eric poked his head out, looking annoyed, as usual. Was he capable of any other expression anymore? I had my doubts.
Mitchell and I ended up sprawled on my own bunk, which was a tight fit for two people. We made it work, his legs heavy upon mine.
We began admiring the kid toys one by one, both confessing that the 300 would always top the others. It was an unfair advantage, since it was the largest and most powerful super soaker. It made me feel sorry for the weaker ones, the ones that were left behind more often. My thoughts rebounded to Eric, and how I left him behind, all because Kellin had a bigger influence on me. It was unfair to Eric, the way I was treating him. I bit my tongue, absentmindedly ignoring Mitchell's rant over the 300, trying to think of a way to confront my former best friend without him throwing a fit.
"What time are we playing today, Mitch?" I interrupted him mid sentence. He took a moment to think about it.
"I think... around 3, which fucking sucks since that's nap time."
"When was the last time you actually took a nap?"
"Yesterday."
"I don't remember that."
"Well, you wouldn't. Unless you watch me sleep, you creepy mother fucker."
"Ever since we started touring, I swear to god, your mind has been squished and wiped clean."
He placed his middle finger in my palm. "I have a present for you, Eliza, and you're not going to like it."
I gripped his finger and bent it backwards, causing him to yelp in pain. "And I have a suggestion for you. Wouldn't a pair of scissors compliment it nicely?"
"So mean," he pouted.
I admired Mitchell for allowing us to lay in a calm, no noise besides Eric's television. The English commentators followed us into the bunk area, almost as if the game were playing right next door.
"Ronaldo might get his big break at the shootout... looks like Portugal is in favor of penalty kicks... Reina jumps for the ball..."
Mitchell lightly brushed his fingers back and forth over my arm, sending me into a haze-like state. I became drowsy within minutes, sinking farther into my pillows and blankets. I was comfortably forgetting about Warped and all the bad that came with it. My mind rambled all on it's own, dreaming of Koda coming out on stage with me. I smiled. My mom meeting the many different bands, and treating every member like they were her own children. Such a sweetheart. She had always been like that, so caring and motherly. I was very lucky to have her in my life. My heart squeezed at the thought of her so far away from me. I bet she was feeling a little off too, not having her only kid by her side.
But it was okay, I was content. The start of my new life, adult life, began here, at Vans Warped '11. And it wasn't going to be all fun and games. I agreed to that wholeheartedly. Life was there to throw obstacles in our way for a reason. We had to figure out for ourselves whether we were strong enough to deal with them, or not.
Although random surprises kept trying to push me down, I was moving onward, and that was the only place to go. No matter what happened, there was no room to move backward, only forward. I just had to keep thinking that way, because it was the only thing motivating me besides our fans. And as much as I'd love to sit down with every single one of them and talk things out like friends, I wasn't able to see them as much as I'd like, and that practically killed me. What was the point of being on tour if you couldn't meet all of the people you're playing for?

After our set, I felt like passing out right then and there on stage. The sun was beating down on us with all of it's might, melting and scrambling my guts, even with part of the stage cover. Half of the kids out there had half of their clothes on, but I didn't blame 'em. If you feel like getting naked in one hundred degree weather, then be my guest.
When we made it back to the van, drenched in our own sweat, lugging behind pieces of Sanders' drum set, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Immediately coming to the thought of Kellin, I dropped one of the symbols and heard a shout behind me.
"Watch yourself!" Sanders walked up next to me while I ripped my phone out. "Unless you would like to sell your kidney for this equipment, I think you should be more careful."
"Really?" I looked up, adding height on my tip toes, but it was no avail. Sanders easily reached six feet, and I was a hefty few inches over five. "Guess what I think, precious?"
"No." He shook his head, and pulled on my hair, picking up my slack and moving on.
Good thing he said no, because I was quick with comebacks today, all thanks to the relaxation provided by Mitchell.
I flipped open my cell and saw one new text message, but it was from mom. Oh well, still as exciting.
"Call me. Love you-Mom."
I frowned at the urgency the message held. Usually she felt it was necessary to provide some insight into her day. She'd add a tidbit of Koda, and then the rest would either be about her tomato plants, or how far my watermelon had grown. But this was not the usual type of message.
At the most inconvenient time, home phone dialed and everything, I had just received an incoming text from Kellin.
"God damn it," I snapped at my old school device. I was never into the whole iphone, blackberry business. If it could text or call just fine, then I would be just fine. The last thing I needed was a $5o phone bill every month.
"Partner with me tonight? ;)"
The winky face. My mouth went dry and I took a deep breath. Was I going to get used to this ever? I texted back "maybe ;)" and immediately anticipated the next message. In the meantime, I was going to go back to my bunk and finally hear my mom's voice.

"Hey, it's me."
"Thank goodness! I sent that text to you this morning."
"No, mom. I received it literally like, ten minutes ago. You're ridiculous."
"I was sure... hm. Nevermind. Anyways, now don't get worried."
I closed my eyes.
"I'm taking Koda to the vet."
"What? What happened?" Of course something happened to my dog when I was away.
"I think a tick got him, but I'm not too sure. He's been throwing up all morning, so I'm taking him in an hour or so."
"Throwing up?" I covered my eyes with my arms and groaned. "That doesn't sound anything like a tick bite."
"Try to relax and keep busy. I'll keep you updated. I'll let you get back to your thingie. I love you so much!"
"I love you too, thanks mom. Bye."
I felt more than willing to get off of the phone with her, which honestly upset me. But this was no time for my Shepherd to come down with something. Points for mom ruining my afternoon without realizing it. More points awarded to her for calling the tour: thingie.