Ŧ Tom.

I was one of the only ones up besides Ella, who was reading her book silently on the other side of the table as I sat and flipped through the channels. We have a calander in the back of the bus on one of the walls, and judging by the number of X's that Bill had scribbled on the little boxes counting the days, she had already been with us for about four or five weeks now for it was now February and we had already had about six shows. She made each one to remember and we got some amazing feedback.

Our first concert is when she met her new team and such, which was, unfortunately, made of all guys. Some I thought she would consider good looking, others were just attrocious. She didn't really need to talk to her team much while she was with us, when she gave them their instuctions, they listened. Fear of her catching them doing something wrong and chewing them out for it. It happened once or twice, and when it did, I stood by and laughed.

I also started noticing new little quirks that she had. Like that she always has her ipod in while she works or is writing. She keeps the volume up pretty loud, I'm guessing to try and drown out her team's vigorous and annoying gossip about when and how they banged their girlfriends. I also noticed, that when she was skipping through songs, her eyes went to the ceiling, as if looking for a specific one. If she finds one of her favorite songs, she drums her fingers on the side of a table, chair, or she bangs her pencil on the table top to the beat of the song.

Her outfits range from day to day, depending on what she feels like, so she said when Bill asked her. Yesterday she was wearing a pair of shorts, with a blue t-shirt the kind that fit to her body and she wore blue converse sneakers. Those she considered work clothes, since she was on the set half the day from noon to six. She kept her clothes unusually organized, consiering we have such small bunks and not very much space. The ones she already wore she keeps in a pile, and the ones that are clean she keeps in another. I sat one day just comparing Bill's bunk and hers for about five or ten minutes, trying to see how she can be so organized and he can't. Not that I can talk, my shit is everywhere.

Just yesterday Alex called and told us that we were allowed to give that small room in the back of the bus to her, saying that her bus wouldn't be there in time for the next show. She still hasn't moved her stuff in yet . . . oh . . .cause we didn't really tell her. Oops. Oh well, I'll tell her later.

There were a few problems with Ella staying with us. Problem 1: When we go out to clubs and such and I see a really hot slutty girl that I really wanna get with, and I take her back to the hotel, I always feel this droopy feeling in my stomach. Why? I got no fucking idea. Whenever I'm dancing with them or something, I always hear Ella and Bill laughing at something or I see her walk by to the table, or something else she does distracts me. I'm still having distracting wild sex no doubt, but every time I do . . . I feel like that feeling is weighing me down more and more.

Problem 2: I have never had trouble talking to a girl before. Ever. Not even when I was little, and according to Bill, I was a little player then too. But whenever I talk to Ella, or whenever I'm around her and just making small talk, I always say a little more than I plan. Don't ask me why, cause I have no idea either. It's like when your not supposed to tell a big secret, but it just slips out on accident. Like if I say something that I didn't really plan on, all she does is smile and laugh. Not really the reaction I planned on getting.

Problem 3: Ella is a woman, just like any other. She has everything. Curves, brains, a sense of humor, loyalty, craziness, she's honest, and really good looking. I mean really good looking. Probably better than all of the girls I've been with (so far). And sometimes the things she does . . . like, make me think of certain things I shouldn't. Perverted things I shouldn't be thinking. When she bent down to pick up something she dropped I more than once thought of touching her butt. When she bent forward over the table to grab something I just wanted to take her out of the room and lock us both in. Finally when she's at the club with us I've wanted nothing more than to go over and start grinding on her right then. I'm not a sex maniac, I know where and when the appropriate time is. But she just makes me so crazy . . . more crazy then ever before. I like her, no doubt about it. But I'm a little confused, about how much I like her.

It gets harder and harder to be around her. Sometimes, I don't even know what to say.

I finally got to a channel that I liked after much channel surfing, it was Comedy Central. It was Scrubs so I sat, watched, and enjoyed. Everyonce in a while, Ella would look up from her book and look at her watch, as if she was timing something. I couldn't help but laugh.

I felt something hit the side of my head about thirty minutes into the Scrubs marathon. I put my hand to the side of my head and pulled out a large gooey spitball from my face. I turned to see Ella laughing uncontrollably, her book on the floor and clutching her sides as she watched me remove the spitball.

"You son of a-" I threatened, but I couldn't even finish, I was interrupted by Ella's laughter. It seems like that's all she can do at the moment. Ella moved over next to me and pointed a finger at the side of my face still laughing and now snorting. She stopped and calmed herself down and crossed her legs under the table, staring up at me.

"You asshole." Was all I could say as I threw the spitball somewhere in the room. Hopefully no one will find it. Or sit on it.

Ella started laughing again as soon as I said that and she clutched her stomach and rolled over onto the edge of the seat.

"Sorry. My book was getting boring, had to make my own entertainment." She teased as she sat up again and looked at me wide eyed.

"Yeah, spitball on my face, that's entertainment?" I asked rubbing the side where the spitball hit and she tried to hold in a laugh.

"I thought it was funny." Ella smirked and shrugged her shoulders.

"I can see that." I said looked down at her and then we both stopped and stared for a minute the silence was then broken by our laughter and I doubled over and leaned my head down onto the table and tried to calm down, while Ella leaned back against the chair and sighed.

"So, I never really got to ask, how do you like it here?" I asked nudgeing her as I sat back up and saw that she had stopped.

"It's been . . . interesting. It's like . . . ummm . . . I can't think of a comparison, but if I could it would be good. Will you settle for it's awesome?"

"Sweet. That's good to know.'' I leaned back and turned off the TV, throwing the remote on the chair next to me with a thud.

"Oh, so, do you like that I'm here?" She asked looking over at me with a smile.

I laughed. "It's great that they let you stay with us. Course, Bill pulled some strings, but it's great. I know the others are happy too."

"I just hope they don't move me or anything. I like it here." She stated, pulling her knees up to her chest as she put her chin on them.

"Nah . . . we wouldn't let them, besides, we are friends, right?" I asked raising an eyebrow and looking over at her. I hope to God that we're friends. It would make things damn easier if we were. I think of us as best friends, well in my mind.

"Are we?" Ella laughed, picking her head up and leaning back against the chair again.

"Totally. BFFs." I said nudging her again. She really was starting to be just like one of us, one of the guys and yet, she's still a girl. Not like that girly girl type thing, but a girl, a normal girl. I glanced down and picked up my guitar that was laying next to me and I set it in my lap and started strumming random things. First I started the few riffs to Ready, Set, Go! Then I totally jumped into Monsoon and I kept on switching songs, wanting to play them all.

"How long have you been playing?" I perked up and I saw Ella leaning her head on her knees again, looking at my guitar in my lap curiously.

"Since I was . . . 7? I think."

"Wow."

"What? Thats not that long." I laughed. I did, I started when I was around seven years old and I've been playing ever since.

"What are you talking about? Your 19 now. Thats eleven years already. Thats awesome, you can't say that isn't a long time."

"Yeah well, how long have you been drawing and doing whatever you do?" I smirked as I looked down at her and she smiled up at me.

"Not sure. I guess from as long as I could write. I dont know, I think my drawings are okay, but not that great. You look at half the artists and graphics out there today an-"

"You have amazing talent." I said, interrupting her rant. She does and she knows it. She just showed my her portfolio like three days ago and all of it is amazing. The colors and the shapes and designs, the stuff she comes up with is beautiful. She has that true talent, like Bill does when he sings, he creates masterpieces.

"Uh . . . Danke." Ella looked at me and she caught me staring right at her. Again. "W-what's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh . . . nothing." I quickly turned away realizing that I was staring and I sighed. Woah now Tom, what are you doing? Its just Ella. Calm down. Don't stare. I looked at Ella once again, looking her up and down quickly so that she wouldn't see. I shook my head to snap out of my little daze I was in. What am I doing?

"You okay?" Ella asked looking down at me while I put my head in my hands and sighed big.

"Huh? Y-yeah fine." I muttered through my fingers.

"Not very convincing."

"Really, I'm okay. Just a headache." I lie so bad. "I need a drink. Real bad." I got up quickly moving my guitar, walking over to our mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of vodka. I reached up into our cupboards grabbing two glasses and I swiftly filled them with ice. Thinking that she wanted one too.

"Make that two." Ella said running her hands through her hair and sighing. Bingo, I was right.

I brought over two glasses and filled them to their tops with the vodka. I set the bottle on the table and handed her a glass and sat back down next to her. She took a large gulp and I did right after, watching as she put the glass to her head and closing her eyes.

"Sorry, this is the cruddy kind. Bill went to the store and he bought it, not really thinking." I said setting my glass on the table. She smiled and chuckled, setting her glass next to mine.

"You let Bill buy the Vodka? Are you insane?" She laughed. "But there's a certain thing you think about when you buy it?" I nodded and took another sip, setting the glass on the table with a clunk.

"One: How much you need to get drunk off your ass, or just extremely buzzed, and which kinds will get you to either one of those states the fastest." I held up my pointer finger, and she smiled at me behind the rim of her glass.

"Two: What you will be getting drunk for. What is your reasoning behind this drink?" I asked as I held up my glass off the table and eyed her quickly. There I go again, I seriously have to stop or my body is not going to even think and it's gonna do something it's not supposed to.

Ella smiled again and started to think hard. I know my reason, what's yours? "Well, if it helps, I'm just having a drink for the hell of it." She laughed and I gulped down my last bit, and I could feel the slight touch of the ice against my lips as I consumed my last drop. I grabbed the bottle, but her hands were too quick for me as I saw her grab the bottle right before my hands could even touch it. She filled her glass again and I handed her mine, not wanting to do the work if I don't have to.

"Relationships are my reasoning. Right now, I hate mine." She raised her glass in the air and I raised my arm with my glass in it and I clinked hers. I watched closely, could she take as much as me? I kept on drinking until about half my glass was gone then I slammed it loudly down on the table, huffing and waitng to see hers. She set it down gently, her vodka level slightly under mine. Damn, she got more in.

"Relationships? I thought yours was great with whats-his-name?" I said, taking a small drink and setting my glass back on the table. It seemed like she was really happy with her boyfriend, she called him every other day and talked to him for about a half an hour or so. I don't really see what's going wrong, but if something is, good old me will be always be here for her. A shoulder to cry on if you will.

"You kidding, I don't know about whats-his-face anymore." She said taking another big drink. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ella look over at the clock on the microwave and she cursed under her breath, and sighed a deep sigh. I watched cauciously, looking as her chest moved up and down slowly.

"Shit it's like one in the morning. I had better head in, I'm gonna be way too tired tomorrow." Ella laughed standing up rubbing her head and she turned to me as she was about to walk into the bunk area. "Night."

"Wait!" I said holding the bottle of vodka as I got up, not wanting to knock it over, looking at her as she whirled around to me again.

"Something wrong?"

I have no idea what's going on with me, but for some reason, I just don't want her to leave me alone. Or leave the room without me there with her.

"Its . . . it's only one." I pointed out.

"Yeah . . . that's my limit during the week. We both have to get up tomorrow too." Ella looked at me raising an eyebrow. "Whats wrong with you tonight? I always head in at this time, plus we were drinking."

"Ja . . . never mind."

She probably noticed my face was flushed, because next I got this.

"Maybe you should get some sleep too or stop with the vodka. You look sick." Ella finished as she exited the room and went to the bedroom and I heard her crawl in.

I watched as she did and I went and sat back down at the table, moving my guitar and putting it back into my case over on the other chair and I put the cap on the bottle on the table.

"Shit." I cursed as I sat down and put a pillow up to my face to muffle my vocie as I spoke out loud. "Ugh . . . What is wrong with me?"