Breaking Hearts Still Looks Pretty Cool

Part 12

  As I had originally expected, my college work had trickled off into nothingness, paling in comparison to the vivid excitement of tour and all of the exhilaration it brought.

'It's your own fault' I said to myself as I speed-read a paragraph of James Joyce so quickly my eyes hurt, 'you shouldn't have let it get this far,'

I had studiously neglected 5 essays, and I had only gotten 2 of them done. I could hear everyone else having fun on the other side of the room as I tapped away at my laptop in irritation; there was the tantalising buzz of laughter and excitement, the distant sound of drinks being opened.

"If I don't find a quotation to support my point I will explode," I groaned under my breath in frustration, "never again am I leaving essays this late,"

It was no use; Ulysses was practically impenetrable.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked, and the question coincided with a weight sinking into the couch next to me.
"An essay," I said through gritted teeth, deeply resenting being disturbed. It seemed unfair to me that when I was implored to abandon my studies so many times for the tour, I still wasn't allowed to keep up with them even after I had agreed to all requests.

I glanced up reluctantly, and my annoyance melted away when I saw an inoffensive Mikey sitting there with a small smile curving his lips like an archer's bow.

"What is it on?" he asked, and I appreciated his interest even though I knew that he probably had no care for James Joyce whatsoever.

"Exploring the works of James Joyce," I answered, holding up Ulysses as if by explanation,

"Ahh," sighed Mikey, clearly unaware of who James Joyce was.

I smiled, "I can't actually do it," I sighed angrily, letting my head drop theatrically to his shoulder

"You should take a break," he advised, for some reason glancing furtively at where the rest of the group was congregated around the tiny picnic-style table. I looked over there too, and was surprised to see the way things were laid out. Frank was sitting on Gerard's lap (well, that part wasn't a surprise), and Ray was sitting next to them munching contentedly on a pop tart. The perplexing part was that Annabelle was sitting on Bob's lap, apparently drawing something on his face. I knew that it couldn't have meant anything, but it seemed like they were too close, and there was a flirtatious smile playing on Annabelle's face that made me wary. I turned my gaze to Mikey, wondering if he was looking at Annabelle in annoyance, berating her behaviour, but he was actually looking at Gerard, almost curiously.

"The reason I'm in this mess is because I've taken a giant, week-long break," I smiled, hoping that continuing our conversation would draw Mikey's gaze away from the others; it was making me nervous for some unknown reason.

"You deserve it," Mikey said confidently, sweeping my copy of Dubliners aside and moving a little closer to me on the couch, "It's been really nice seeing you every day,"

For some reason, he glanced furtively over to the others again; I gave up on adding an extra paragraph and started to type out a weak conclusion to distract myself from mirroring Mikey's almost reflex action. The last thing I needed was to confuse myself by continually looking at Gerard from across the room; I hadn't been alone with him since the revelation about Matt.

"Yeah," I agreed, genuinely meaning it, as I attached the newly completed and saved essay to the email I would be sending to my tutor. It had been better than 'really nice,' seeing the guys every day, it had been almost like Heaven (aside from the confusion and the minor fight with Annabelle). I truly felt as though the past three years were all a myth and we were just the same 7 kids with crazy hopes and ambitions, and nothing better to do than just hang out and enjoy each other's company.

I realised with a jolt, as I involuntarily looked over to him, that Gerard had never really been a 'kid' when we were. He was always three years older, always a cut above the rest of us; he wasn't as intrinsic to our group, even though sometimes it felt like he was the lifeblood of it...or maybe that was just to me.

"Connie?" Mikey's voice brought me back to earth,

"Yeah?" I responded dazedly, not making a concerted effort to tear myself from my thoughts,

"You've been pressing the send button for the past-" he checked his watch, "four minutes, I think it's gone now,"

I started and looked down at the screen; he was right, a 'message sent' note was on the screen. I shook my head, "yeah," I agreed vaguely, "I'm glad that's over,"

"How much do you have left to do?" he asked, and there was a look in his eyes that bordered on desperate,

"You know what?" I said, knowing that I would regret my rash decision in the near future, "I can't be bothered to do any more just now, I'll do some more tomorrow...it's not as if my tutor can come and get me for not doing it, right?"

Mikey grinned, "Now that's what I like to hear!"

He stood up, and I enthusiastically shut my laptop and did the same. He smiled again, and started to walk towards the stairs, gesturing for me to follow. I shook unsteadily, still unused to the sensation of the juddering bus in motion.

"We're not hanging out with everyone else?" I asked, looking over to the table, where no one seemed terribly concerned that we weren't going over to them; Gerard paid us a fleeting, unreadable look, Ray was happily and obliviously tucking in to a new pop tart, and Annabelle was so immersed with drawing what looked like a clown mask on Bob's face that she didn't even seem to be aware of her surroundings.

"Don't you want to hang out just us?" he asked with a grin, "remember Mikey and Connie days?"

I smiled nostalgically; in our senior year, we had indeed developed 'Mikey and Connie days,' when we would ditch everyone else to go on long drives with just each other, and to go out for ice cream...or even to the movies, or anywhere.

"Of course I do," I answered, the fond remembrance probably clear to see on my face,

"And it's not as if we can go out for ice cream when the bus is moving,"

I nodded in understanding, "very true," I said, following him up the stairs.

I looked quickly over my shoulder as I went, as though I was slightly scared that the scene behind me would somehow have changed; it hadn't. Secretly I was glad to get away from Gerard for a while; my feelings for him were getting too convoluted and confusing.

"I've missed this," Mikey said, flopping on to my bed with an enthusiastic thudding sound,

"We've not done anything yet," I giggled, doing the same and landing next to him. I remembered my feelings of days before, when I had observed that it felt odd sleeping in a bed when there was a space for someone next to me, and blushed profusely. There was an awkward silence, and I wondered if Mikey was thinking anything along similar lines; a quick study of his face, however, yielded nothing, he just seemed happy to see me, as he usually did, if a little uncomfortable.

"How do you like being on tour, really?" I asked, knowing that Mikey sometimes withheld his true feelings,

"I actually really enjoy it," he answered, sounding as though he meant it, "it's worlds better than I thought it would be, to be honest, and I just – love it!"

I grinned, "Yeah, it's pretty cool," I paused, fiddling with my t shirt hem, "and Green Day – well, they're unreal, Annabelle and I saw them in Starbucks the other day,"

Mikey's arm, which was touching mine slightly, tensed up next to me, "you did?" he asked, and his voice matched the tension in his muscles,

"Yeah," I responded, allowing my curiosity at his reaction to filter through into my voice,

"Did you talk about much?"

I opened my mouth and then promptly shut it again, unsure if I should mention their odd allusions to my affinity for the Way brothers, Gerard in particular.

I was just about to spill, when some heavy footfalls on the stairs stopped me.

"Hi guys," said Gerard, stealing my breath away with his unexpected appearance,

"Hey," I said breezily, and Mikey just sat up, looking imperceptible and blank,

"What are you two doing holed up here by yourselves?" Gerard enquired, sitting on the edge of my bed. My heart thundered in girlish excitement; Gerard was touching my bed!

I giggled lightly, "we've hardly been 'holed up' here, Gee," I told him, my heart aching when the nickname I hadn't used for three years slipped out, "we've been up here all of 10 minutes,"

Gerard looked slightly wrong footed and took a while to choke out his next words, "Yeah, well, we were all wondering why you didn't want to hang out with us down stairs,"

It seemed like a reasonable explanation, and I drew breath to respond, but Mikey got there before me.

"Sometimes we like to hang out by ourselves," he said, with the tiniest harsh edge to his voice,

"Well, would you like to come downstairs with us now?" asked Gerard with an almost threatening politeness, "we're going to watch a movie,"

"What kind of movie?" I asked, cutting Mikey off from answering for me. I was remembering fondly all of the times Gerard and I had watched films together when we were an item.

"A really scary one," he grinned evilly, and stretched his hands out to me like a zombie,

"I'll only watch it if you let me grip your arm tightly in the really scary parts," I said in a teasing voice, fully aware that it was not a world away from something I had said to him before, a long time ago,

"You can grip any part of me you like, Sugar," Gerard answered cheekily, with a joking wink. My heart spontaneously sped up and blood thundered in my ears; I was thrilled, and as he offered his arm out to me to lead me down the stairs, our eyes met, and I knew that he was fully aware that he had once answered me in the same way before.