Breaking Hearts Still Looks Pretty Cool

I tried in vain to push my luggage into submission, neatly by the side of my bed. The problem was that there was so much of it that it just seemed to be in a haphazard pile that nearly took up all the space between my bed and whoever’s was opposite mine.

I tried to stack one case on top of another, and it fell spectacularly to the floor with a resounding thud.

I jumped and looked guiltily to the floor, hoping that they weren’t too confused by the sound downstairs
“That is it,” I said out loud to myself, “They’re just going to have to stay!”

I got to my feet with some difficulty and stood back to look at the damage, hoping that they weren’t too messy. I was unlucky, though; they were in a bigger tangle than they had been in before, and would almost be blocking someone’s way to their bed.

“Ah well, chances are they won’t mind,” I said out loud to myself, guessing that the person most likely to be occupying the bed opposite me was Frank.

I flopped unenthusiastically on to my tiny, hard little bed. It was hardly luxury, but as I lay back with my head on my small pillow, it didn’t feel too bad. Despite my reservations, it still felt amazing to be there. I could hardly believe that I was actually on a tour bus – in fact, if it hadn’t been for the fact that the bus was moving, I wouldn’t have believed it.

There were curtains that could be drawn around the beds, and I began to play with mine, pulling them completely around and shrouding myself in darkness.

‘This is nice,’ I thought, guessing that if I talked out loud to myself and someone heard it would be pretty embarrassing, ‘very private,’

It was. The darkness behind the shield of the curtain was such that I needed my cell phone to provide myself with a little bit of light. I lay back again, trying to get used to the strange feeling of lying down on a bed whilst in constant motion. It was a small bed, but there was still room for a second person in it. My stomach jumped worryingly as I contemplated the sadly empty space next to me, filled with the irrational urge to have someone fill it.

‘Stop being stupid,’ I told myself, not allowing thoughts of Gerard to get anywhere near my mind. ‘At least no one else here is loved up,’ I reasoned with myself, trying to find as many reasons as possible not to feel alone, ‘except Mikey and Annabelle,’
‘Ew.’

I made a face and tried not to imagine what use they would make of the privacy the curtain gave. Just then, as I tried to steer my thoughts back to contemplations about the bed (Was it too hard? Just hard enough? Would I need an extra pillow?), I heard soft footfalls drawing near me and a slight creak as someone sat down on the bed opposite mine.

I grinned at the thought of leaping out of the curtains on to Frank, so I crept to the very edge of my bed and burst out.

“HI FRANK,” I yelled as I sprang forward, and fell out of the bed comically, landing painfully on one of my many suitcases, “Yeah, sorry about the cases,” I hadn’t looked up at him yet, I was too busy rubbing the spot on my back that had come into contact with a particularly sharp corner, “I just figured you wouldn’t mind too much not being able to get to your bed, and I couldn’t exactly be bothered to tidy them away...”

I slowly got to my feet and turned around, expecting to see small, friendly Frank, and being met with something very different.

Gerard was sitting on the edge of the bed opposite mine, his feet awkwardly placed at the side of one of my overbearing cases. His face bore a look that was a mixture of heavy amusement, shock, and something else I couldn’t quite work out. One thing that I could easily work out, though, was that he looked better than ever. His hair was a bit longer than it had been when I was with him, but it was still messy and beautiful as ever. Maybe it was because I hadn’t allowed myself to look at him properly in so long, but he seemed just as attractive to me as he had done before – maybe even more so.
And I had just completely embarrassed myself, right in front of him. As soon as his divine hazel eyes met my own plain, dark brown ones, I could feel the heat in my cheeks turning me into a human beetroot.

“G-Gerard,” I stuttered out awkwardly, “I didn’t realise that it was you,” I said very quietly, with my eyes fixed at my bare feet. I noted, as I stared intently, that my dark red nail polish was starting to chip away, leaving the vulnerable peachy nail beneath.

“No,” replied Gerard, and I didn’t need to look up to tell that he felt just as awkward as I did, “I guessed as much,”

“Sorry,” I said, working very hard to keep the franticness out of my voice, “I didn’t mean to...” I paused; reliving the misguided leap out of the curtain was a somewhat painful experience, “make a complete fool out of myself,” for some reason, I bizarrely felt like crying. Was I not capable of acting like a normal person in Gerard’s presence anymore?
I carefully suppressed the odd crying urge and continued, “and about the cases, I mean, they’re everywhere...do you want me to move them?”

Gerard chuckled, and with that magical sound, I felt my heart leap over-enthusiastically, “You didn’t make a fool out of yourself,” he said, and his tone sounded light and breezy,

I looked up, meeting his eyes with a small disbelieving smile on my face,

“Ok, you did a bit,” he conceded, “but it’s ok, it was only in front of me,”

‘Making a fool of myself in front of you is the very worst thing,’ I thought dejectedly, but I smiled at Gerard, still a little uncertain.

“Don’t worry about the cases,” he said, “you never were the tidiest person in the world, and lord knows we all expected you to bring a lot of clothes,” he looked down at my luggage with what I thought was a fond look on his face,

“Are you sure?” I asked tentatively, hardly daring to believe that we were having a normal conversation,

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. I analysed the way his lips curved, and the straight white teeth on display. It was just as I thought; it was exactly the same as it had always been, his smile was genuine, and it hadn’t changed a bit. Including in the way it made my heart hop, jump and generally act like it was having a dance party in my chest.

“Let’s go downstairs,” he suggested, and for a fleeting moment I wondered if he didn’t want to be left alone with me. Then I reminded myself that we were trying the friends thing.

“Sure,” I said, sliding of my bed, and trailing along down the stairs behind him, trying to ignore my racing pulse and fluttering stomach.