“She’s such a fighter. She doesn’t complain about how unfair life is. She looks forward to going to the hospital to see her friends there so she can make them feel better. I miss her so much.”

Bristol smiled. “She sounds amazing. I’m thankful she’s going to make a full recovery.”

“So am I. She’ll have to wear glasses for a while, which I know she’s not happy about.”

“You have the same color eyes as her, right?” Bristol asked. It gave her the opportunity to stare directly in Annie’s eyes without fear of getting caught.

“Hers have a bit of green in them.”

“And yours are like a tropical ocean. They’re very beautiful.” Bristol could feel her confidence blossoming now that nobody was around. It was nice to sit back and flirt with Annie.

When Lou knocked on the door to inform them they were leaving, neither Bristol nor Annie pulled her hand away. While it was nice to hold hands and talk about normal life, Bristol needed to feel Annie’s warmth next to her. “Can I get you a drink? We have water, soda, or juice.”

“I’ll take anything at this point,” Annie said.

Bristol pulled herself from Annie’s grasp and grabbed two sodas and two waters from the refrigerator. “Oh. We also have lemonade.”

“That sounds delicious.”

Bristol put all six drinks on the table and sat next to Annie instead of across from her. Her body hummed with excitement at the possibilities. When the bus jerked forward as it pulled away from the curb, Annie touched Bristol’s knee, either to keep her from sliding away or falling off the bench. Bristol’s excitement grew. “The first jolt is always the worst. The rest of the trip will be smooth sailing.” Bristol wasn’t sure when it happened, but they were holding hands again and having a nice, easy conversation about family, food, and songs.

“I don’t know how you’re so graceful between chords. I feel like a clumsy monster when I play. It’s the one thing I listen for with other people. You are so incredibly smooth in your transitions,” Annie said.

“Grab your guitar, and let’s see what you’re doing,” Bristol said. She’d noticed, but Annie’s hesitations were so slight that they didn’t bother her like some guitarists’ did. She watched Annie as she carefully opened her case and pulled out her guitar.

“It’s not top-of-the-line or anything, but I’ve been playing her for so long I can’t retire her,” she said.

The guitar had seen better days but still had a beautiful sound. “How long have you had her?”

“About eight years. It was the first major purchase of my life. Who needs a car when you have a beautiful guitar like this?”

“Wait. You don’t have a car?”