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You woke slowly, rolling over in your bunk and opening your eyes blearily. You could feel the gentle sway of the bus as it drove forward. Yawning, you slipped your feet out of bed and looked to the window over Myra's bunk. A highway breezed past outside. 

You grabbed your phone, checking the time. It was around noon - you had slept long than normal. But then again, you had been up on the bus roof with Clay until about three in the morning, so maybe it was excusable. You heaved yourself fully out of your bunk, walking to the front of the bus with your phone in hand. 

You found Myra in the kitchen, surrounded by the smell of syrup. She turned around when you walked in, presenting a plate of mini waffles to you with a grin. "Morning."

"Morning." You returned, taking a waffle from the plate and popping it into your mouth. "What's got you in a good mood?"

Myra shrugged, taking a waffle for herself. "Just happy, I guess."

You hummed, shooting her a knowing look and taking another waffle from the plate. "You never make waffles."

"I'm not allowed to be in a good mood?" Myra asked, taking the plate and plopping down on one of the couches, leaving room for you to settle in beside her. 

You shrugged again. "I'm just saying." You said defensively, a slow mischievous smile coming to play on your lips. "What time did you and Nick get back last night anyway? I didn't see you guys come back-"

"Now you're just being mean." Myra said, rolling her eyes. "What did you get up to last night anyway?" She asked, turning the tables on you. 

"Just hung out with Clay for a while." You said. "He's still working on a new song."

"Oh yeah?" Myra asked. "What about?"

"This and that." You said, definitely not thinking about how he had lazily released a circle of smoke into the sky and declared to the world that he wanted to fall in love. The way that he had talked about it so easily, and how he had an innate sense of who he was going to fall in love with before it even happened. How desperate hope had bloomed in your chest at his words - that possibly, maybe, he had looked at you and known.

Myra just hummed, leaning back to rest against the couch and stretch her arms above her head. "Long day of driving ahead of us." She said. 

You hummed in agreement. "Dallas, right?"

"Yup." Myra said. "We'll probably stop a couple times before we get there though. I was going to work on writing today, if that's alright with you."

"Yeah, that's fine." You said. "I was going to just watch a move or something today anyway. What do you want for dinner by the way? I figured I'd make something since we'll have time to actually sit down and eat."

"You don't have to-" Myra started. 

"No, I'm going to." You said. "You've made dinner the past couple of times, let me."

Myra smiled, getting up from the couch, taking one last waffle. "Whatever's good. I don't know what we have in the fridge, but knock yourself out."

With that, she headed back to the bunks, no doubt to curl up around her laptop and slide her headphones on, getting lost in the world of music. You were curious as to what the song she was working on was about, but you were sure you would be the first to hear it when it was done. You took another waffle from the plate, opening your phone again. You navigated to Instagram, scrolling through your feed for a moment until you came across Clay's Instagram, his latest photo popping up in front of you. 

A simple picture of his notebook and his guitar, but it was the caption that caught your attention. 

when you know, you know, right?

Your mind immediately darted back to the conversation you'd shared last night. It had to be in reference to that, right? The picture of the notebook and the guitar made you think you might be right, but it was just vague enough that you couldn't be sure. 

You closed the app with a sigh, and opened the running journal you'd been keeping, scrolling to the bottom of the page. 

You began to write, just pouring all the things you'd been thinking and feeling down onto the page in short little phrases. How you had spent long hours under the stars with him, talking about love while he exhaled smoke rings into the sky. How this new post made your heart flutter with hope, even though you really had no idea what he was talking about - it could have been anything. How Myra - who was the most judgmental and high standards person you knew - had only said good luck. His smile, his laugh, but most of all, the line when you know, you know over and over again. 

It felt a little silly, writing everything down like a middle schooler keeping a diary, but after you were done and you read it back, you felt significantly better, like everything was off your chest now. It was sort of like unloading after a long day, after everything had built up. 

Reading it all back, you were starting to realize what this little journal was trying to be. It made sense, when you thought about it. Surrounded by so much music, of course it would seep into your writing, and even if you had never written one before, at it's base, it was just poetry. 

Plus, how hard could a love song be? You were already more than halfway there. A little refinement, maybe some changes so that the lines rhymed and fit a melody better, and you would have it. 

You looked back down at the long string of words and phrases on the page, all about Clay. You understood what he meant now, about wanting to fall in love so that he could write. It was like the words had written themselves.

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