Soo...I have like no readers, but I'm gonna keep posting anyways. =P
Chapter 3
Miley awoke the next day with a monster headache seeming to match the hurt she felt in her chest. Although she'd gotten a full night's sleep, when she got out of the bed, she nearly fell over from exhaustion. She regained her balance and went to the fridge, reaching for her morning energy; orange juice.
As soon as she'd downed the juice, she realized that the bus was still moving. It must have pulled out really late last night. She thanked the Lord after she remembered that this evening was the last stop on the tour; Las Vegas, Nevada.
Miley laid back down on her bed, trying to ease the heartache in her chest. How could he have done that, so out of the blue? She didn't want to go on stage tonight and pretend that everything was fine and dandy. The one thing she hated most was acting fake. But before she had time to stew over her predicament, her dad shuffled into the narrow bus hallway and reached for the O.J.
“How are things, bud? You were already asleep when I got back to the bus last night,” he said between gulps of juice.
Miley thought about telling her dad everything, but she just couldn't bare to say everything out load; that would make it real. “I wasn't feeling well. Big headache from the show. I think one of my ear plugs aren't working.”
“Well, we'll have to work on that, won't we?” he said, gleeking juice all over the counter. “Oh, gosh darnet! I keep doing that every time I talk! I wonder if there's something wrong with my spittin' reflexes.” (a/n I'm going to make him seem really dumb. Because I want too. =P)
“Gross, Dad. I don't want to hear about your failing salivary glands,” Miley said with a look of disgust on her face. “I'm so glad this tour is nearly done. I'm sick of being with these people.”
Her dad pretended to look hurt before he said, “What? You mean you're sick of your dear old dad? That hurts, Miles.”
Miley let out an audible sigh. “No, Dad. Not you,” she said, rubbing her temple, trying to make the pain go away. “I just need to get away from the boys. I really need to get away from them.”
“The boys? Why would you want to get away from them?” he asked, screwing up his eyebrows in confusion. “You're so close. What about Nick?”
“Nick and I are no longer together,” Miley said, finally letting the truth sink in. “He broke up with me last night.” She barely finished before her voice started trembling.
“Aw, it's okay, bud. There'll be other boys. Plenty of fish in the sea!” he said while the bus lurched to a stop. “Looks like we're here! Better get your tush in gear! We have a meet and greet in three hours.”
Pushing herself out of bed, she consoled her aching body with the thought of home in less then two days. Grabbing her cell phone, she left the bus and headed toward the hotel to get ready for one of the most AWK-ward days of her life.
