Light Luggage, Heavy Feels
1083 Words
The morning was too bright for goodbyes. One of those obnoxiously cheerful Portland days that made it hard to believe anything could be sad. Birds were chirping like backup singers and the sun had the audacity to shine like it wasn’t interrupting something emotional.
Ellie and I stood in the parking lot of the hotel No Name had crashed at for the night, watching the guys load up their gear. Guitars in battered cases, tangled cords, and amps that looked like they’d survived a decade of bar fights. It was chaotic and loud and exactly the kind of energy I was about to get swallowed up by.
I took a slow drag from my vape, minty and sharp in my lungs, and tried not to look like I was spiraling. Even though I was. A little.
Ellie bumped her shoulder into mine. “Don’t look so tragic, Blue. You’re going on tour, not to war.”
I smiled, but my head was already somewhere else—spinning back to last night.
⸻
We met up at the same coffee shop, like it was our thing already. Teddy was already at the corner table when I walked in, tapping his thumb anxiously against a paper cup. When he saw me, he stood up so fast his chair scraped the floor.
“Hey,” he said, grinning like he was trying not to get his hopes up.
I said the word before I could talk myself out of it: “Yes.”
His whole face lit up. Like, sun-through-clouds lit up. “Yes? Yes yes?”
“Yes to the tour,” I clarified, even though I was already smiling like an i***t.
He didn’t even play it cool. Just pulled out his phone and started calling his bandmates one by one, pacing outside the coffee shop like he’d just been handed the final rose. When he came back in, he was still grinning. He told me about their next stop—San Diego—and how it wasn’t too far, but just the beginning. “There’s more. A lot more,” he said. “I want you to see it.”
We sat and talked until the shop started stacking chairs. Then, when we stood to leave, he reached for my hand—not to hold it, but to bring it to his lips.
A kiss. Soft. Deliberate.
Like I was a freaking lady in some vintage romance novel.
⸻
“Earth to Blue,” Ellie said, waving a hand in front of my face. “You’re doing that thing where you look like you’re here, but really you’re on Planet Teddy.”
I blinked and took another drag. “Was I being obvious?”
“Only in the way you just sighed like you were in a Jane Austen adaptation. Hand kiss and all?”
I laughed, passing her my pen. “You’re gonna miss me.”
“I’m already missing you,” she said, taking a puff and exhaling with a dramatic flair. “But seriously, I’m proud of you. This is a big leap. Into the unknown. With hot lead singers and questionable sleeping arrangements.”
“Thanks. I think.”
Ellie looped her pinky through mine like we were ten again. “Text me. Call me. Even if it’s just to complain about tour bus smells or if someone steals your dry shampoo.”
“I promise.”
We stood there for a beat, not quite hugging, not quite letting go.
“I hope he’s worth it,” she said softly.
“I hope I am,” I replied.
And just like that, it was time to go.
⸻
Thomas and Ellie exchanged goodbyes like it was something they’d rehearsed—a hug that lingered too long to be casual and a whispered promise Ellie wouldn’t tell me. I didn’t ask. I just grinned as Brody jumped into the driver’s seat of the van like he was launching a getaway car.
The engine roared to life behind me, but I kept walking toward my sky-blue Sprinter, keys in hand and nerves coiled like a spring. Tyler was already waiting for me inside—probably judging me with those golden eyes of his, because yes, I was doing this. I was actually doing this.
Only… I wasn’t prepared for what I found when I slid open the passenger side door.
“Teddy?” I blinked.
He grinned at me from my shotgun seat, already buckled in like this was his van, like he lived here, like I was the one who needed to explain herself.
“Morning, road dog,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“What are you doing?”
“Going on tour,” he said, spreading his hands like duh.
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re in Tyler’s spot.”
“Tyler and I had a conversation. I offered him a bacon strip and full DJ control of the van playlist. He said, and I quote, ‘Fine, but she’s still in charge.’” He paused. “It was a very serious negotiation.”
I just stared at him, deadpan. “You bribed my dog.”
He smirked. “Technically, your cat—”
I lunged to smack his arm and he dodged it, laughing.
“I’m serious, Teddy. This wasn’t the deal. You guys were supposed to tour together, I was going to meet you at each stop. I didn’t sign up for a chaperone.”
He leaned back in the seat, all casual charm and zero apology. “I know. But we did. The guys and I. It’ll make us feel better knowing one of us is with you on the road.”
“I’ve been traveling solo for a year. I know how to handle myself.”
He turned his head toward me, expression softening. “Yeah. But you’re not solo anymore.”
My stomach did that annoying swoopy thing it had started doing whenever he got sincere. Which was unfair, really. I needed him to stay in his teasing lane. This was dangerous territory.
But he just sat there, already part of the picture I hadn’t quite painted yet. His presence felt like music I hadn’t meant to turn on but didn’t want to turn off either.
I sighed. “You better not touch my air freshener.”
“No promises.”
“And if Tyler bites you, I’m not getting involved.”
“Worth it.”
- Writer
