Page 43 of The Only Thing That's Real
After sneaking away I got on the bus and climbed into my bunk. I put in my earbuds to block out the world and fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. But, as usual, my earbuds weren’t charged and died much sooner than I liked. I was about to pull open the blackout curtain of my bunk, hiding me from view, when I heard voices coming from the back bedroom. Voices I recognized.
Knox was talking to Angus, and then I heard Mia’s voice. I’ve been friends with Mia and Knox’s sister, Daisy, since we were kids. I’d know her voice anywhere. Strange, she would call with Angus. Admittedly, I was curious and listened a fewmoments too long. Their call was none of my business and I knew I needed to make my way off the bus. But when I realized how serious the call was the last thing I wanted to do was make noise and interrupt them. There was no way I could get off this bus without making noise. I have a broken bunk curtain that screeches when I open it, not to mention the sound the bus door would make.
This conversation sounded like it was a long time coming. Who was I to ruin it?
Because holy shit, Knox is Sawyer’s dad. And Mia and Angus are not just together, they are very serious? What in the world? Daisy mentioned Mia and Angus were dating, but I didn’t realize it was this serious and she kind of left out the part about Knox during our catch up when I was home for Mom’s birthday.
Their talk is a fricken big deal.
Life-changing.
What I’ve overheard explains the change in Knox everyone has been talking about. He’s been keeping Sawyer from them. I could hear the shame in his voice and all the pieces are falling into place.
As horrible as I feel for being in his space during such a personal conversation, I couldn’t bring myself to distract him.
I waited in my bunk for him to leave, but there was no immediate movement in the back bedroom. Like an idiot, I thought if I jumped down and ran for it, I could be off the bus before he saw who was fleeing the scene. This is why I’m frozen mid-escape with an enraged rock star heaving in front of me.
“Knox—”
“No! I don’t want to hear it. Get off this bus and don’t come back. You’re fired!”
“Knox! Please! Let me explain!”
“Fucking journalist. You’re all the same. I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”
“I was asleep. I woke up, and you were on your call. I had no clue you were going to be in there.”
Jumping out of the bunk, I land with a thud. Then I step on the bunk below mine so I can lean in to grab my things, shoving them in my bag.
“You should have left!”
“I didn’t want to interrupt such an important call,” I plead, as I throw my bag over my shoulder, my feet now back on the ground.
He hovers over me, so close his breath moves my hair when he repeats his original request. “Get. Off. My. Fucking. Bus. Now!” He stabs a finger in the direction of the main cabin.
“Of course. I’m so sorry, Knox.”
“Fuck you and your sorry. Fucking leech,” he says under his breath, sounding defeated.
“I swear it’s not what you think.”
“Not another word.”
Lowering my gaze to the ground, I give up explaining myself and exit the bus. His reaction isn’t outrageous. I get it. A journalist just heard one of the most private calls of his life and he’s terrified.
God, I wish he knew how sorry I was.
Jim, the bus driver, is leaning against a concrete wall smoking a cigarette when I emerge in a daze. “What the hellwere you doing on the bus? Knox said nobody was allowed on until after his call.”
“Yeah, well, I was on the bus before him.”
“Shit.” He throws his smoke on the ground, smashing it with his shoe.
“You got that right. Can you open this for me?” I ask, pounding on the side of the bus. “I need to get my bags.”
“Uh, sure. One sec.”
I don’t need to look to know I’ll find Knox watching me. I felt his heavy footsteps behind me as I rushed outside. His lethal stare is burning a hole through the back of my head.
