Gabe's hung over, and I have no money, even though he didn't ask.
You’re Hung Over- And I’m Broke
AKA “What the Fuck, Tiny Dancer?”
Okay. Okay okay okay okay. I know, what are the odds of Gabe Saporta letting you sleep in his bed, while (illegally) secretly tagging along, and who what now? I am so not pulling this out of my ass, though. So CHILL, and listen. Arg. People.
When I woke up, the bus wasn’t moving, and I couldn’t tell if it was morning or afternoon, or what. I didn’t sleep well last night, and so my guard wasn’t down. I knew exactly where I was. And how uncomfortable I should be. Gabe was crushing me, and I’d gone cross-eyed looking at him so close up. At least he didn’t have rank breath.
Outside of the bunk, I heard people moving around. Things bumping the walls, and floor. Low voices talking (over coffee, no doubt.). I tried to make my self as small as possible (haha. Get it?) and closed my eyes. There was a loud rap on the wall by the outside of the bunk.
Gabe groaned, and tightened his hold around my waist. I could tell he was waking up because he smiled like a big goof and began massaging my wrinkled tee with his thumb. I raised an eyebrow, I mean, c’mon. He’s acting a bit like a weirdo.
Gabe realized he wasn’t really rubbing me the right way, and stopped to find skin. I moved back from him about half a centimeter.
“Did I rock your world, baby?” he asked in a scratchy voice. I’d heard him once use it in a YouTube video (the one with Sanchez and Ryland trying to wake him up? Yeah.).
“It’s okay. They have no idea.”
“No.” Gabe stopped trying to find some skin and frowned.
“I didn’t rock your world?”
“No. We didn’t even… y’know.” I felt my cheeks warm up at the thought of sex with Gabe Saporta. That was a very unexpected (and, admittedly pleasant) thought.
“Candy, were you mad at me?”
“I’m not Candy.”
“Well shit. If she isn’t mad at me now, then she will be. I have a girl friend.” I pulled Gabe’s arm off of me.
“Don’t care. Open your eyes.” I blew into his face, and he opened his eyes, startled. It took him a minute to process who I was, before he jerked back with a yelp. I sat up and watched him fall out of the bunk, and he landed with a pretty solid and painful thud. Slightly worried I stuck my head out of the bunk to see if he was okay.
“You okay?” I asked. From the floor he waved me away.
“Get back in the bunk. OW!” From the other part of the bus several people asked if Gabe was okay. Only one came back to see for themselves. She saw me trying to get behind the curtain. Vicky sighed, and I could see her looking disapprovingly at Gabe.
“Candy is gonna be mad,” she said. “And how is she going to get home? We’re in Maryland.” I peeked out and watched Gabe scramble to his feet and shush Vicky.
“She’s my stow-away. She begged me to take her with us. I didn’t sleep with her.”
“Her. Who is her. Show your face, her.” I poked my head out of the bunk curtain, trying on my new look; sheepish.
“I’m her,” I offered, feeling myself blush. “I’m also known as Zoë…” Vicky raised an eyebrow at me.
“How old are you? Fifteen?” I narrowed my eyes.
“No. I haven’t been fifteen for… three years!”
“You had to think about it.”
“Math isn’t my strong point.” I smiled hopelessly at Vicky, and she smiled back.
“Okay… But. I don’t know if I want a maybe 18 year-old who is bad at math on the bus.” I grimaced. “But don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” She nodded and patted Gabe on the back, whispered something in his ear before heading up front. He turned to me, his eyes wide.
“What the fuck, tiny dancer?” I quirked an eyebrow.
“What the fuck did you call me?” Gabe groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. I rolled my eyes and proceeded to straighten my clothes and put my shoes on. I fished around for my glasses, and found them on a book half hidden under Gabe’s pillows. I smiled before pushing the curtain back.
Gabe was glaring at me when I returned from my adventure. I furrowed my brows and cocked my head. “What?”
“You know what,” he said from his position against the wall. “You ruined the whole stow-away thing. And now everyone knows. And it’s embarrassing. What if you’re a mass murderer, who looks like a cute little girl but is really out to rid the world of sexy Latino singers?”
“Mmm, no.” I said, pulling my hair into a pony tail. “The jig is up, Gabe. And I figured you’d want them to know that, weather it is by being kind and letting me ride along, or seducing me in your drunken stupor, you can still get a girl other than this Candy into your bed. And she’s young.” I stopped before giggling. “Ew, Gabe. You’re a dirty old man!”
“Shut up,” he said pointing at me. I reached out for his help down, and the ol’ softy obliged.
“Aww, Gabe. Don’t talk the talk, if you can’t walk the walk.”
“Don’t talk all mean and hard to me if you’re gonna be a perfect gentleman.” I gave him my patented Look. My Look is me with my hands on my hips, turning my torso slightly to the right (so I can look over my shoulder. Kinda.), dip my head, and raise my right eye brow. As if to say; “Don’t fuckin’ try it. Nothing gets past me.”
“I don’t even know you, and you’re a pain in my ass,” Gabe grumbled. I beamed (ooo. I like that word.) at him.
“So, I guess I’ll go ahead and commence the awesomely bad fan-fic that is currently my life and meet the rest of the band. Thing?” Gabe looked at me like I had a third head. I shrugged, as if to say I had no idea what I was talking about. I think I confuse him. He sighed.
“I guess since Victoria knows… c’mon,” he said motioning for me to walk to the front of the bus. After he gave his balls a good hearty scratch.
Okay, so. I blame Katy Perry. This is based off he song by the same name and a dream I had. Oh please tell me if the idea of Gabe allowing an “18” year- old as a stow-away one night while he was drunk is a bogus idea. PLEASE. Kthnxs.