Semester Abroad

ch 8

After a few hours on the computer, I had cranked out a short paper and a half, and John was still asleep on my bed. I didn't quite know how to approach this. I tip-toed over to the side of the bed and awkwardly poked him once. He turned over slowly, attempting to open both eyes but only partially succeeding.

"Hey, it's late; I thought you might want to sleep in your own bed," I said to him. I wouldn't have minded if he had stayed, in fact I would have preferred it, but I figured he would be disoriented waking up next to me and I didn't want to scare him.

"Oh, right, sorry," John replied, rubbing his eyes. "Didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

"No worries," I said. There really were no worries. It was comforting just knowing he was in the room, and the fact that he was asleep eased my nerves about saying something stupid or embarrassing in front of him.

"You get anything done?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually," I explained. "Don't know if any of it's usable, though. Who knows how legible my stuff is when I'm writing this late."

John laughed softly. "On that note, I'll let you get some rest. You still up for the studio tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I replied with a smile. He really had NO idea how excited I was for it.

He rolled out of the bed and walked to the doorway, where he paused, leaving me with a 'Good night, Cass' before he flipped the light switch and walked away.

******

I was woken up early (for me, at least) the next morning by none other than John.

"Wake up, Cassie!" he encouraged, his head peeking halfway through the doorway. It was too early for me to be able to disguise my smile. John ran off once he saw evidence of me trying to get out of bed. I got ready and dressed myself in a simple t-shirt and mini skirt. God I love studio days.

Everyone downstairs was already ready to go, so I grabbed another frozen waffle and we all piled into the van. I wound up in between John and Flea in the backseat.

"We already got everything written a few months back, so today is just recording," Uncle Chad explained to me.

"Yeah, should be smooth sailing as long as you don't distract this one!" Flea joked, motioning at John. We glanced at each other awkwardly. What did he mean by that? Did he have to point out that I liked John in front of everyone? Judging by the look on their faces, it was evident this wasn't new information. Great.

After an extremely awkward rest of the car ride, we hopped out at Cello at last.

Flea turned to me on the sidewalk. "Ready?" he asked. I nodded, grinning, and we entered the studio.