SomeWhere On... (BXB)

...the A3200, UK - January

 "Whaddya mean 'you're going to the U.S.?'" Gavin asks, leaning over the bar's counter.

I blink. "I thought it was pretty self-explanatory."

Gavin growls, but Steve holds him back. "Mate, you sure about this?"

I begin shaking the martini shaker until my fingers feel like ice. I serve the drink, grinning, then look back at Steve. "Look, I know this is kinda insane, - "

"Kinda?" Gavin shouts, then drops his head. Too loud.

"But you'll be back, right?" asks Steve. He actually looks a little sad.

I look away because Steve being sad looks weird. "I mean, eventually, sure." It's only really now that I realise that the bar's pretty much empty. There's, like, three people here, not counting Steve and Gavin. "Look, I just wanted to tell you what I was thinkin'." Because I don't have anything else after it.

"You're thinking of leaving us for your boyfriend?" Gavin hisses. "How long've you been together? Like, two weeks 'r somethin'?"

"Almost 3 years." Again, it doesn't feel like three years. It feels like 11.

"Wha?" Gavin doesn't seem to understand.

"3. Years."

Steve whistles and takes a sip of his beer. "Wow."

I inhale. "I know. It's fuckin' bad."

"Shouldn't you've already, like, bought a house already?" asks Steve.

Okay, now I'm ready to kill him. Because how would we've done that?

"I think long distance relationship rules are different from your fuckin' peasantish dating rules," I whisper, smirking. I take Gavin's glass, which is half-filled with ale, and refill it. "I feel real superior compared to you and Jess. Like, I don't think we've ever really fought bad-like. Argue, sure, but never really fight. Like throwing shit. Or crying." And then I remind myself that I screamed at him until he began crying on the cruise. Or my recent visit with him.

Thanks, brain.

Out from the street bursts in Jess, who's red in the face and her bleach-blonde hair everywhere. "You're going to America?!" She sits down beside Steve and glares, her face twisting in this, like, "WHAT THE HELL" look.

I blink. I stare at Steve. No emotion.

Steve's avoiding me. He's trying to drink his thing without looking at me.

"You can't leave!" she spits, leaning over the counter. "You're my OTP."

"Like I'm gonna stay here for you to, like, droll watching us."

Jess withdraws, horror-struck. "Tom Maguire, I am offended."

"I don't give a..." I click my teeth because I can't swear. I shouldn't, but I want to. I've already been told off for it. "I don't care, Jess. I wanna go be with him, and it's easier than him coming here."

"But we're gonna miss you!" she squeals, tits hitting the table.

Somehow, I'm not gonna miss that. Like, at all.

Unless Lizzie's there.

Then God help us all.

"What're you gonna do?" asks Steve.

"...dunno." Murph's been encouraging me to apply to places all over, mostly in, like, around New York and stuff. I guess he wants to move there.

It's nice that he sees me with this potential.

Honestly, the whole "job" issue is the big thing Murph's been worrying about. He's literally just been sending me any job he thinks I'd be good at, but most of them I'm seriously unqualified for. He's even gone out of his way to find different universities I could apply to as an alternative. But he's encouraging, which is seriously nice.

And I know I should be more worried about all this, but I'm...not.

And it sucks.

"Mate."

I blink and look back at Steve. "Wha?"

"You're just gonna be a bartender?"

I shrug. "Maybe." I know Murph doesn't want me to be. At the same time, I don't want to be that, either. "Steve, it's real confusing."

Jessie purses her lips. "So you're really goin'?"

"There's nothing really here to keep me, besides you guys." I shrug again. "And...it fuckin' sucks...not having him around, y'know?"

Steve side-eyes Jessie and nods. "Do what you gotta, mate."

Except Jess's wide-eyed and crazy looking. "You can't be serious."

"Whaddya want?" I ask, grabbing a glass. "Wine, beer, ale? What?" Because I don't wanna talk about this with them anymore.

I'm skimming through the string of messages Murph left me as I go on break. They're almost all online jobs, scattered with the occasional Murph message that're frantic and in shout-y capital letters. He's apologizing for spamming me with jobs.

I know at least a dozen people who would kill for someone like Murph.

luv, stop spamming me with messages

i'm gonna have to get a new carrier if you keep doing it

I'M SORRY OMG I DIDN'T REALIZE.
I just want to make sure you have options to pick from.

How can you stay mad at someone this sweet?

pup it isn't that
and i think you know it

I can hear him sigh.

I know, I'm sorry.
but I feel like I'm grasping at straws, Tommy. I don't know what else I can do to help you.
Have you even looked at the new jobs I sent you?

I haven't.

ill do it, i promise

can you do it now?
Please?
I can happily sacrifice my time talking to you if it means we're one step closer to being in the same place again.
Please look at them?

I write back I will, and go through them one at a time. The first three are for some kind of abroad program, which I don't know what that is. But if Murph sent three links for it, it must be important.

It's the second one that gets me. It's a work-placement program for summer camps in the US. Except it isn't that bullshitty-type camp where it's, like, for kids who're into theater or maths or some shit. These camps have sailing. Archery. Fuck, even horseback riding.

heywhat do you think if i become a camp counselor?