Learn to Spell, God!

Brian’s POV.

Relief. The bus is positively oozing with it. Even Papa Gates has moved back! But I think he’s planning to leave the tour before anymore drama can happen. Knowing our track record, it’ll escalate to levels unimaginable. More reason for being cautious with our relationships really. Thinking of relationships, I don’t know what’s happening about these engagements. I’ve decided not to say anything just yet. We’ve only been back together for just over a day.

The lounge was back to its normal, loud self. Magazines were currently sliding off the coffee table as we drove down the winding highway. I believe we were in Wyoming on our way to Cheyenne. I don’t think we’ll be doing much exploring of the area though because our geographically challenged other halves didn’t even know there was a state called Wyoming. How American are they?!

“I’m not even American you noob!” Sophie hit my arm playfully.

“Me either! God stop discriminating against the migrants.” Pippa joined in.

Myself and Matt exchanged confused glances. I honestly didn’t believe them. They had Californian accents and showed no sign of being foreign. The girls rolled their eyes and settled in for what was looking like a long story.

“I’m British, Brian. Both my parents are too and I was conceived and born in England.”

“And I’m Welsh.” Pippa announced with a smug grin on her face. Sophie had to stifle giggles by shoving her fist into her mouth. No one else seemed to understand the inside joke that was present. “Shut it ginger.”

“I’m sorry you’re a sheep shagger, Pippa!” Sophie laughed, snuggling up to me in her fits of giggles.

“Pippa takes sheep up the ass?” Matt asked with a look of pure shock directed at his girlfriend.

“It’s a joke that kind of circulates about the Welsh and their over population of sheep.” Sophie explained. I still didn’t see the joke. “Anyway, I moved to California when I was five and a few years later I met Layla. Then Danni moved to Venice. Pippa came along at the end of middle school and we found Jenn in high school when she moved from Canadia!”

“Confusing much? I moved to the states at the same age as Sophie, but not to Cali. I’ve lived all over really.” Things seemed to be making sense now, though how sheep came into this I will never understand.

Their life stories were explained, in brief thankfully. I dread to think how long the extended edition would have been because it took them each an hour to tell us about life in Britain and moving to the states. It was pretty interesting, and I don’t know if Matt’ll agree with me, but British girls are seriously hot. Not to mention their accents too. Sophie gave us her best attempt at the accent after it being dormant for about ten years, and Pippa’s welsh one was by far the funniest thing I have heard in a long time.

It was around two o’clock when I decided to put my mini master plan into action. We – that being Sophie and I – were in the bunks with nothing to do. I put my book back under the pillow, and yes we officially share the bunk again, and shuffled closer to her, reading the book from over her shoulder. She was re-reading ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’, again. I swear she’s read that at least five times now.

“Boo!” I whispered in her ear. I didn’t mean to pick the name of the character, which happened to be main focus of the kids in the book.

That’s right; Brian Haner has read a novel that doesn’t have copious amounts of sex. I have Sophie for that now. Maybe I’ll not say that out loud, I don’t think I could handle loosing her again. Its bad enough I still haven’t told her I started smoking again in those few days of the argument. I was stressed, and nicotine was the only way I could keep my head clear.

“Holy fudge! You scared me. I was just at my favourite bit.” Her eyes were wide with excitement.

“Your favourite bit is the end of the first chapter Sophie! Don’t you think there are better bits later on in the book?”

“Nope.” She snapped the book shut and leant across me to put it under the pillow, just like I had. “Oh! I have something to show you.” A broad smile consumed her face, quite literally reaching from ear to ear.

She stuck her head out of the bunk, diving underneath to where out suitcases were kept. She returned with her laptop. I pulled her into me as she began a series of clicking, highlighting and renaming files. Eventually she came across a music file, opened it and let it play. I listened carefully; it sounded like ‘Warmness on the Soul’, but I couldn’t be sure.

“You should know this song, Brian.” A female voice began singing the familiar lyrics and I knew my first guess had been right. Whoever they were, they were good.

“Wow. Where’d you find that?” I finally said once it had finished playing.

“That was me and Pippa.” I felt my face drop in shock. “We recorded it back before the tour started . . . we changed the key you guys did it in, to suit Pippa’s vocals. I was on the piano and she did the guitar parts.”

“Seriously? Umm I . . . I don’t know what to say!” I laughed.

“That’s a first.” Sophie rolled her eyes as she closed her laptop and then replaced it underneath the bunk.

“So . . . do you want to go shopping?” I tried to make it as casual as possible. My acting had failed miserably as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at me.

“Since when do you offer to go shopping? But yes I would, to spend my own money.”

“Uh uh, wrong answer! The plan was to spend my money. You’ll be broke before the tour ends if you keep wanting to spend your own money.”

“Of course, and you wont will you?” I was determined to win this battle.

“Hello! Famous, rich rock star boyfriend. Money isn’t an issue . . . unless you need a new phone. ‘Cus I’m not paying for another one you break in a fit of temper.”

“Shut up and grab your wallet. I want to go shopping for prom dresses.” She said, pecking my cheek and climbing out of the bunk.

*

We were walking down a stupidly long boulevard of dress shops. I don’t mind shopping . . . to an extent. But we’ve been in, wait for it, thirteen dress shops. Sophie raked through the rails picking up dresses and holding them up to her, then asking for my opinion. It was okay to start of with, but I’ve run out of synonyms for nice and pretty. Not to mention it’s taken all my self restraints not launch myself at her when she tried some of them on.

She had pulled me into another shop. A very expensive looking shop. Knowing her she’d pick a dress that would cost all her savings. Sure enough a purple one had caught her eye immediately. The woman in the quiet shop showed her the dressing rooms, talking excitedly about the dress and its designer and so many things that to me didn’t matter. You’d think these people would have a Starbucks along the street for guys to retreat to.

“Tada!” Sophie jumped from behind the curtain in a short, puff ball dress. I think my eyes pop clear out of their sockets.

“If I were to run at you now, and screw your brains out, would you have any objections? Because if so you’re leaving me a deprived man.” Her eyebrows knitted together in a concerned look.

“Urmmm, I may have some reason to deny you sex. But my brain just turned to melted cheese.” I laughed at her and patted my lap for her to sit on. Now was time to put this plan into action.

People have no sense of timing do they? Sophie’s phone began singing away to itself. She ran back behind the curtains and returned with it held to her ear. I couldn’t make out what was being said on the other end, but it was frantic. She gave me an apologetic look and began calming the voice down.

“Layla, breathe! I err . . . I’m not sure. Just tell me it in brief, only the important bits.” Her eyes kept flicking back to me as Layla explained the mystery subject. “No . . . I err, yeah we’re still shopping. Nothing was mentioned . . . Okay and now you’re making me feel terribly uncomfortable.” She met my gaze for a second before walking off further down the shop.

“That dress looks lovely on your fiancé, Mr Haner.”

“She’s not my . . . How’d you know who I am?”

“My son’s a fan of your band. He’s been trying to get tickets for your concert tomorrow since they went on sale.”

“How come he hasn’t got any yet then?”

“The box office weren’t too organised and ended up double booking them.”

“Well that’s crap isn’t it? In fact . . .” I grabbed Sophie’s handbag and went straight to the front pocket. “Here, have these for him. They’re blank tickets. It means he could have come to any of our concerts, and they double as backstage passes.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I’ll knock some off the price of that dress for you in return. And I’d decide whether you want to propose to her again quickly. By the sounds of her conversation, some one may be getting engaged too.”

“How’d . . . I guess wearing the ring around my neck isn’t the most conspicuous way of hinting.”

“I’m pretty sure that will be the subject of conversation when she returns.”

She left me just as Sophie returned shaking her head. The conversation with Layla obviously hadn’t been the highlight of her day. She sat herself down on my lap carefully, not saying anything. Instead her hands reached straight for the ring on my chain. Oh shit . . . I knew I’d have to face this soon enough.

She laughed lightly once.

“Who knew such a small thing could leave such a nasty mark.” She brushed her fingers across the now fading bruise on my forehead. She’d made a good job of hiding it with makeup earlier.

“If your right hook is anything like that throw, I’m glad it was the ring that got me.”

“Layla was on the phone . . . panicking because Zack proposed to her, again.”

“Why was she panicking? If she loves him then she’d say yes, even if it is second time round.”

“She wasn’t sure because of the argument . . . she didn’t know if it were too soon.”

“No one wanted that argument. And it was all just drunken mistakes, so there shouldn’t be anything stopping her from saying yes.”

“That’s what I told her.” She chuckled to her self before continuing, “It’s so easy to give advice to others and not follow it yourself.”

“What would stop you?”

“I, I don’t know. Maybe because . . . you’re right. There wouldn’t be anything major to stop her. It’s just nerves I guess.”

“Are we talking in third person now? So if he proposed to her, even if it were after an argument, would she say yes?”

“I . . . she?” She took a deep breath. “She’d say yes. Without a shadow of a doubt, yes.”

“She’d need this then, wouldn’t she?” I unhooked the chain around my neck, retrieving the ring.

She twirled the ring around and around her finger, admiring it and making it catch the light. She got bored of that and began following where its reflection was on the walls. She then discovered that moving the ring meant its reflexion would also move; she shone it straight into my eyes.

“Goal!” She giggled. “I’m gonna buy myself this dress by the way. It’s too much to ask you to pay.”

“Not a chance. I gave the woman those spare tickets you carry around, because her son couldn’t get any and she knocked the price down.”

“What it is to be engaged to a famous man.” She sighed.

We were making our way back to the bus after I’d bought Sophie the dress. I won our mini squabble over whose credit card would be handed over. I did take hers and throw it to the other side of the room so I could pay whilst she fetched it.

“So when is your prom? Just so I know to make a guest appearance.” I chuckled, hugging her shoulders.

“July . . . the sixth.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?! Brian it’s never good when you say ‘oh’!”

“Yeah . . . I-I think our last show – the home coming one – is on the sixth . . .” Her face fell and was drained of all emotion. Prom is like the biggest event in high school and they’re going to miss it.

“Oh, okay. Its fine, I mean we can’t disappoint the fans, and we are not going to cancel any shows! We already missed a few shows with the funeral, and it’d just be stupid to cancel the very last date on the tour list. We’ll still get to see our friends, and they’ll take lots of photo’s I’m sure. I didn’t have anyone to go with anyway.” She smiled weakly up at me. “Guess we better return this dress then . . .”

“Whoa no! I did not just trail through nearly twenty different dress shops and watch you try one near one hundred dresses for you to return the dress you chose! You’ll find another time to wear this. We’re always going to formal dinners so you’ll get to wear it.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go reply to the email my mum sent me. She was asking if you’d done something horrific enough for me to call off the wedding. I’ll tell her the good news, then how they still have an obligation to disown me.”

She ran up the stairs of the bus to the bunk area, whilst I had another plan formulating in my mind. Upstairs I heard cries of disbelief and someone yelled:

“We can’t miss prom!”

“Hey, did you guys know our last show is the same night as their prom?” I jerked my thumb in the direction of the disgruntled chatter.

“No . . . it isn’t is it?” Zacky asked. I nodded my head.

“I know what I’m gonna do . . . anyone have the number for their school?”

Jimmy threw his phone at me. Upon searching the contacts, I found the number of their school. Why he had that number, I won’t ask. I knew exactly what I now had to do.