How Not To Be A Groupie

My hands gripped each other tightly as I sat on the sofa, Phil next to me. He was writing something down but I couldn't see what it was. It looked like he was balancing a checkbook. I hadn't seen anyone doing that in years. After my shower I put Bon's shirt back on and let him take his turn. In the meantime Phil and I sat on his couch, not speaking to each other. Phil was busy and I was occupied. Tension had only increased.

Can he see me looking at him? Better look away. Can he tell I'm nervous? Is he even paying attention? Look away, look away. What if he tries something too? How many others have a thing for me that I don't know about? Hm?

After looking away for the millionth time, Phil sighed. "What?" he asked, not looking up at me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice wavering. "I didn't say anything." Phil closed his booklet and set the pencil down. 

"Every time you an' I sit within ten feet of each other you look at me like I'm gonna do somethin'," he said and I frowned. "First it was you an' Stelle an' now it's jus' you." I remembered how nervous I was when I was in his room a while ago. Stelle and I sat at the kitchen table by the fan while I worried about telling him I was from the future. I felt ashamed for doing it a second time. "You have some other secret to tell me?"

Or do you have a secret to tell me, Rudd?

"No," I said, willing myself to calm down. Me being a nervous wreck probably put Phil on edge. I couldn't do that, it would be....what did Blanche Devereaux say? Unsouthern? "It's just been a busy morning, is all."

"Busy here too," Phil said. "Last night Mal an' all were up an' down the halls doin' God knows what an' this mornin' Mal called askin' if I knew anythin'." Phil clasped his hands together and looked at me at an odd angle. "Apparently it was a whole affair. I missed it 'cause I was asleep."

"I hope the bus gets fixed before the concert," I said. 

"Me too. Or else I'll be sittin' on Mal's lap in the clown car," Phil said and I laughed. "Clown bus is more like it."

"I was thinking so I could get my clothes back," I said. "But yeah, you need the extra room, don't you?" Phil leaned back on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table to prove it. 

"Sure do," he said. "Can't live without it." Then he frowned. "Your clothes are on the bus?"

"Yes," I said, gritting my teeth. "And our room keys too."

"That's rough, hon," Phil said and closed his eyes. "But Bon doesn't mind goin' stark."

Right on cue the bathroom door opened and out walked Bon in nothing but a towel. His hair was much less poofy than usual, except for the fringe in the front. He grabbed a soda from the fridge and drank half of it before acknowledging that we were there. "Finally, a fuckin' towel, right, Hannah?" Bon asked. 

"Right," I said, remembering the lack thereof on the tour bus. I averted my gaze from his, still feeling a bit awkward from before. Phil could only do so much to distract me from the Copacabana I was living in. Thankfully Phil didn't seem to feel anything for me so that was one less I had to worry about. 

What if it were Angus?

I tried to ignore my brain. If it were Angus, I'd decline his advances just like the others, no special treatment. Oh, I'd do it with a heavy heart, though. 

I couldn't finish my takeout salad. I tossed it around with my fork, partially hungry and partially nauseous. We were backstage now after getting a cab to the venue. When we got there the second bus wasn't back yet. Bon's shirt wasn't much against the cool breeze and Phil had to lend me his sandals which were rather big and flopped at the heel. I looked ridiculous. But that wasn't even the worst part.