"Next." I called out. Chris stumbled foreward, sleep clouding his eyes, and passed me his black luggage. I shoved it into the activity bus and slammed the lid. 350 band kids. Five busses.

I had double and triple checked our arrangements into the city. We had symphony shows planned, trips to the empire state building, and art museums. I checked my phone. No calls, no texts.

"Sorry I'm late," a voice behind me called out. Relief flooded every bone in my body. I would of hugged Jay it I wasn't so damn mad at the idiot. "Why are you so late?" I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

"Overslept," the false cheerfulness was evident on all corners of his face.

I nodded and followed him onto the bus. "Window seat?"

"You know me too well," I joked and sank into the plush chair. He passed me a breakfast bar and sat down on the adjoining chair. The bus was mostly silent, no one had grasped where we were going, too tired to pay attention. My mind however was wide awake.

"Cleo it wasn't like that." He protested.

"Then what the fuck was it like. Last time I checked people don't accidently end in eachothers pants."

"It was nothing, it means nothing to me." He protested.

"I stopped before it went to far," he protested grabbing my wrists and pulling me closer to him. I fought to get away from his iron grip, "Jay, I can't right now and I'm so tired of playing this game," My voice cracked, jolting him back to life and causing him to drop my wrists.

The bus ran over a speed bump, bring me out of my mind and back to reality. The sickning feeling in my stomach felt as someone had stuck a branding iron down my throat. My chest bobbed up and down, like a drowning person fighting for air. My temples throbbed, the intense pressure of my hands pressed aganist them gave nothing to soothe the feeling.

"You alright?" Jay asked, placing a hand on my upper thigh.

I nodded and desperately tried to get the panic stricken look off my face. I settled back into the chair, plugging music into my ears. The only person I wanted to talk to about this was Seth. The dull ache for my brother had only increased with the start marching band. I loved Jay. But I of all people knew the repercussions of bring something past tense back into the present.

****
"We rented out the top three floors," the man behind the desk handed back Mr.Pittman several cards. "Alright," I called out as the group gathered by the elevators, "we have compitition first thing tomorrow morning. Dinner is being served on the third floor in thirty minutes. Take your bags up and get changed."
Needless to say that it took thirty minutes to just get everyone into the elevator.

"We're sharing then," Jay remarked after the last pair of two trombones and two clarinets were settled in a room. I nodded and flung my bags on the nearest twin bed.

"I'm going to take the bathroom first." He walked toward the manilla door and disappeared behind it, humming something that suspiciously sounded like Ariel.

"Hey Cleo," he called out several minutes later, "can you pass me my shower bag?"

I ruffled through the small luggage and pulled out a pink pastel bag.

"This one?" I asked passing it through the doorway, failing to keep the humor out of my voice.

"Hey," he rerourted, his face peeking out from behind door,"I told you I over slept."

His bag was strewn out all over the floor. I could feel the organization freak inside of me rise up staring at the mess. I began piling shirts back into the suitcase. My fingers brushed over a coffee colored folder. I could of sworn I told him not to pack his music in the suitcase. Inside the folder was a thick stack of music. Execpt it wasn't any of out contest stuff. It was a collection of songs.

September 13, For Cleo.

I flipped pages through the stack and landed towards the end.

May 25, For Cleo.

I finally flipped toward the end, the last piece he wrote was from a day before our marching meeting.

"It was the only way to fill the silence," I whirled around to find his face not more than 6 inches away from mine.

"When you stopped talking to me it was unbearable. So I wrote a piece for every day you were missing from my life."

He fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt.

I stepped closer.

3 inches.

He placed his hands on my lower back.

2 inches.

I could see all the storms brewing in his eyes.

1 inch.

His warm breath on my lips.

Zero inches.

Ok so I think this is one on my favorite chapters I've written thus far. Love you all, thanks for reading.