In the Band

Chapter 21

Chapter 21 Carson’s P.O.V.

My eyes slowly drifted open from the faint noises of the morning. Spencer and Jon’s morning conversation, the sound of mugs clinking together, and Brendon’s soft humming was coming from the other room. I stretched my arms behind my bed and brought my feet out of the covers and into my slippers, breathing in the bitter smell of coffee that hung in the air.

As I walked to the other room, my eyes automatically darted around the room for Ryan, while I was greeted with a chorus of morning greetings from the boys. After coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t there, I plopped down on one of the bar stools and laid my arms on the table in front of me.

“Your regular?” Brendon, master of all morning beverages asked.

“Why of course, my good sir,” I answered in a groggy British accent.

He reached for the hot cocoa packets on the counter after pouring some milk into a mug. “And, since you’re wondering, Ryan went out,” he said as he punched some numbers into the microwave.

“How’d you know I was wondering?”

“You ask about him every day,” Spencer chimed in.

I could feel my face growing redder. Before I could make a comeback to their laughter at my blush, Allison came out of the bathroom and silenced the room. She weakly walked into the kitchen and held her hand out for a mug of coffee, which Brendon silently handed to her, and then she went to the other room and sat down on the couch.

When everybody started talking again, I looked over at her. She was curled up on the white couch, mug in hand, staring out the window like a zombie. The extra make-up she’s been wearing lately couldn’t cover up the sadness in her eyes.

Brendon put my mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of me. “There you go, kid.”

“Thanks,” I tried to give him a weak smile. As mean as this sounds, I’ve been trying to ignore Allison lately. I’ve made so many attempts at trying to make her feel better and she’s only getting worse. Her sadness now just rubs off on me when I hang around her, so I’ve been avoiding her. Maybe if I just knew what she was so sad about, I could help her.

“Where’d he go?” I asked Brendon, getting my mind off of Allison.

“He said I wasn’t allowed to tell you,” Brendon said smugly.

“What? Why not?”

He smiled. “Think about it. You know Ryan. He might just be the most cliché person on the planet when it comes to you two.”

“So do I get clues and have to try to find him?”

Brendon’s eyebrow went up. “Well, yes. I don’t quite get how you would figure that out so quickly…?”

I chuckled uncomfortably.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m kind of…”

“She reads a lot of romance novels,” a voice from behind me said. For the second time today, Allison silenced the room. I looked behind me and gawked. She pressed the coffee mug to her lips silently.

Still a little shocked by the first words I’ve heard Allison say in a week, I turned back to Brendon, who also looked a little baffled. “So, can I have my clue now?”

He shook his head slightly to clear it. “Yeah,” Brendon turned to face Jon and Spencer. “Spence? Clue,” he commanded a little hostilely.

Spencer walked over to me, pulling a little piece of paper out of his pocket. “You’re just mad that Ryan didn’t trust you to hold the clue for Carson.”

“Shut up.”

Spencer handed me the paper, chuckling.

Once it was in my hands I jumped up from my chair and threw my fist in the air. “Yes!”

The game has begun and your first clue is near

Especially to your ear

I thought for a moment, and then it dawned on me. “Headphones!”

Rushing to my suitcase, I saw my iPod on top and the next clue was wrapped around one of my ear buds.

This clue is your second, so you’re definitely not quite winning

But prepare to head out the door because your next clue is by the doors that are constantly spinning

Sighing, I ran to the bathroom to get ready for the day, eager to leave and find more clues, but not wanting to go out in my pajamas.

*****

After running around Paris looking for clues for several hours, it was nearly dusk. I headed towards the location of my last clue.

Now only one more, my sweet flower

And you will find it on top of the tower

As romantic as that last clue was, I think I’ll have to give Ryan a talking to for making me climb all these stairs by myself. It’s been twenty minutes and I’m only half way there!

And not only are these stairs making my heart rate go up. Ryan’s probably waiting for me at the top. We’re in Paris, the city of love and we’d be on top of the Eiffel Tower at sunset. My stomach twisted in knots. I’ve kissed boys before, but nothing big or passionate, just a little peck on the lips a few times in my life. But Ryan was some experienced man, whose way more than likely gone far past kissing. What if I leaned in to kiss him and he didn’t want to kiss back or I chickened out at the last second and he made fun of me?

Do I even like Ryan? We have this flirting thing going on and I like that. And he was my celebrity crush for years. He’s also my best friend though and my band mate if we get all serious relationship-y then it’ll get complicated.

Suddenly, I saw the door to the top of the tower and my heart leaped into my throat. This is it.

I turned the handle and as I thought, Ryan was standing right there, his back to me, hunched over the railing in his gorgeous way. His hair was being tussled by the wind and I briefly toyed about whether he was god in human form.

I walked over to where he was standing and leaned over the rail next to him, gasping as I took in the beautiful view of Paris at sunset.

“You can see everything from here,” I marveled. He nodded and I grinned.

“What?” Ryan turned his head towards me.

“You’re just so…cheesy.”

“I like it that way.”

“Me too,” I whispered.

As my heart sped up even more, he slowly leaned closer to me until the gap between us closed and our lips connected.

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Thanks for reading! I apologize for the extreme amount of cheese and corn put into this chapter, but it was Sherri’s idea and I wanted to honor it. Speaking of which, Sherri has been really busy lately, explaining the long wait, and told me I could just write the rest of the story by myself. So, you might have noticed the different writing style between her and my work and that it will be all me, Annie, for the rest of the story. I promise to not have you wait for so long again. I love you all and thanks for sticking with us for this long. Oh and I’m also sorry about how bad the clues are. I’ve never been good at scavenger hunts.