How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Fifty Nine: Talking It Over

After tossing and turning in bed for a few minutes I figured out there was no way I was getting back to sleep just now. Pulling myself out of bed, I wrapped the blanket we stole around my body and walked to the door, stopping just once. 

Am I smelling....food?

Peering around the corner I heard water running and the smell of food was stronger. I was taken by surprise to see Bon at the sink, sleeves rolled up, washing dishes. He looked up at me once before focusing on his task. "Jus' gettin' up?" he asked.

"The sun is barely up," I told him, hardly believing that he looked so refreshed. "How long have you been awake?"

"All night," he smiled, keeping his voice quiet. We were the only two in the room, there was no need. I opened my mouth to say something but he waved me off. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Ninety nine percent sober, one hundred percent me." He rinsed his plate from soap and grabbed a towel. "Not even tired."

"Wh-I...." I stammered, wondering how on earth he could be so....bright eyed and bushy tailed. "How?" I asked.

He shrugged and grabbed a glass that used to have orange juice in it. He tossed it in the soapy water and got to work. "Used to it, honey," he said. "Sometimes a friend calls you up or ya' get busy writin' or chattin' up a woman..." I put on a smartass expression and he laughed. "I've been busy, that's all."

"I always feel sick if I don't get enough sleep," I said, hoping I wouldn't start feeling it. "Like, 'about to puke' sick." 

"You're not....about to, are ya'?" Bon asked. I shook my head. "Good. Jus' did some laundry." He nodded at the kettle behind him, sitting on the stove. "Want any tea? Had a bit myself with a splash o' somethin' here an' there."

"Sure," I said, not wanting Bon's trouble to go to waste. Food didn't sound appealing despite the delicious smell still in the room. Bon must have just finished eating. He dried his hands off before grabbing a small floral cup from a cabinet above him and poured out the tea. He didn't pour any milk in it and I didn't care. I wasn't sure how much I was up to drinking anyway. "Thanks."

I took my tea to the couch and curled up, taking notice of all the books Bon left scattered about. Along with some hefty books on the floor were some comic books on the cushion next to me. 

"What are you reading?" I asked, scanning the titles. I couldn't read the loopy writing from where I sat but the comics were obviously Superman. 

"Oh, same ol' stuff," Bon said. "Most of it isn't mine. Found some books lyin' around the place. Some I borrowed off Ang, some from Cliff." I recognized the covers of a couple from the first time I stayed the night. There were more now, and I wondered where he found the time to read it all. Like he said, you got to make the time. "Ang's got a book from me he hasn't returned."

I sipped the tea that was now lukewarm. It was bitter and I set the cup down on the coffee table. Bon had a mug himself when he took a seat on a chair across the living space. Snuggling further into my blanket, I debated whether or not to bring up what happened between us. Talking it over with Malcolm had proved productive. Would it be the same with Bon? Or would it only make me feel worse? Had I misunderstood something? Maybe Bon didn't feel anything for me and kissed all his friends on the mouth.

Yeah. That's it.

"Bon?" I said, waiting for him to look up at me. His gaze was directed at something on the floor. He didn't look away. 

"Yeah."

I didn't know what to say. I found myself tongue tied. At least Malcolm had been the one to bring it up last time. Maybe we should talk about....I don't mean to turn you down....you understand why it couldn't work... I sighed. "Never mind."

It was my turn to look at the floor. From my peripherals I could see Bon leave his chair and push a few books aside to sit next to me. I glanced up at him and he took a drink from his mug. "I'm not bothered," he said. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to explain. "Is what it is, ya' know?"

I tried to remember exactly what Malcolm told me when I admitted I didn't feel the same way. But I wanted to make sure Bon and I were on the same page before continuing. "What is?"

"Ya' think I've never been turned down before?" he asked, smiling wide as ever. "I'm flattered ya' think so."

"That's not-" I sighed, trying not to smile too much. This was serious business. "I never meant to come here and stir anything up. Every last one of you I consider to be a good friend of mine."

"That so?" Bon asked. He patted my knee which was hidden under the blanket. "I think I can speak for the band an' say you're a friend." My heart swelled. This was more than I could have dreamed of. As a teenager just discovering this band back in high school I would have killed for something like this to happen. And now it was. And I couldn't do anything but hold in a fangirl squeal. "Been a rare pleasure havin' ya' with us."

Straightening up and putting on my calmest voice, I said, "Thank you," and quickly covered my face again with the blanket so I wouldn't burst out into giggles. Instead of giggles though, a yawn escaped. 

"You ought to get back to bed," Bon said. "I've seen possums get better sleep."

"What about you?" I asked. Bon stood up from the couch and I stood up with him in case he tried to leave. 

"I'm meetin' up with a friend in an hour or two," he said, checking his watch. "Figured ya'd rather stay here an' sleep." He wasn't wrong about that. And it still amazed me how he could go from one place to the next without so much as a nap. 

What was that he put in his tea?

"No hard feelings?" I asked, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over me. If i didn't get to the bedroom soon I'd probably collapse on the living room floor. 

"Course not," Bon said, lifting me to my toes. With a friendly kiss on the cheek he set me down and I dropped back down onto the couch, curling up and falling asleep. 

The hotel room was empty when I woke up. By now warm sunlight poured through the window. Heavy traffic droned outside along with some construction and people yelling. I stood from the couch and stretched, feeling a little more refreshed than before. Still not hungry I forgot about food and went straight to the bedroom where my bag was. Pushing aside all the clothes I grabbed my Wonder Woman notebook and pen and returned to the living room. 

On the coffee table was a book I hadn't noticed before. It looked like a work of nonfiction. On the well worn cover was a note with scribbly handwriting. 

Back in a flash, hon

Bon

Well, it was considerate of him to leave the note. I sat criss cross on the couch and opened up the notebook, careful to not let anything fall out of it. Starting on a fresh new page, I began to write.