Chapter 10
Micah Barrett
Cricket comes into the family room in her parents’ basement and twirls in front of me, her skirt flaring out. She’s wearing a floral blouse and a white skirt that looked fine on her before, but now I’m worried it’s far too short for her date with River. I point to the skirt. “You’re going in that?”
Her eyes widen as she looks down at her clothes. “What’s wrong with it?”
I don’t want to sound like a grandpa, so I make something up. “What if you spill food on it? Or sit on something? White is such a bad color to wear on a date.”
She nods, her face reflecting what a horror it would be to get a stain on her white skirt. “You’re totally right. I didn’t think about that. I’ll go change.”
She comes back in an even shorter jean skirt and tank top. Where did she even get these clothes? I never see her wear skimpy anything. I try not to snarl at her. “Isn’t it cold today?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, it’s warmed up again. It’s in the seventies.”
“Where is he taking you, again?”
She shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “I told him to surprise me.”
“What if you feel overdressed? Don’t you think your normal T-shirt and jeans would be better?”
She frowns as she looks down at herself again. “No, I think this is better. Is my outfit that terrible?”
Great. I have no more excuses. I sigh. “No. It’s good,” I admit.
She grins at me and grabs a small purse. “Thanks.”
I hold out my hand for her glasses because they’re dirty again. She instinctively knows what I want and leans down so I can slide them off her face.
“No seagulls here,” I mutter as I clean them then put them back on her face.
She giggles. “I still can’t believe that happened.”
The doorbell rings and Cricket’s face lights up. “That’s him.”
My stomach clenches for reasons I don’t want to examine. “I’ll get it,” I say, jumping up before she can protest. I run up the stairs.
I open the door to find River standing there in dark jeans and a button-down shirt, holding a small bouquet of flowers. He looks… annoyingly perfect. His hair is styled just right, his smile is confident but not cocky, and he actually brought flowers. Of course he did.
“Hey, Micah,” he says with that easy charm. “Is Cricket ready?”
“Almost.” I step aside to let him in then immediately regret it. Now he’s in Cricket’s house, looking comfortable and at home. “Nice flowers,” I add, though it comes out more sarcastic than I intended.
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure what her favorites were, so I went with daisies. They seemed… Cricket-like, you know?”
Actually, he’s right. Daisies are perfect for Cricket. They’re simple, cheerful, and natural. The fact that he picked up on that after knowing her for two days irritates me more than it should.
Cricket appears, and River’s whole face changes. His smile gets softer, more genuine, and his eyes follow her as she enters the room.
“You look beautiful,” he tells her, handing her the flowers.
She blushes and buries her nose in them. “Thank you. They’re perfect.” She takes them into the kitchen to get a vase.
I clear my throat. “So, where are you taking her?”
River glances at me, probably picking up on the edge in my voice. “I thought we’d grab dinner at that new Italian place downtown then maybe walk around the harbor if the weather holds.”
It sounds… nice. Romantic, even. Exactly the kind of date Cricket will love. Cricket comes back into the room.
“Sounds good,” I say, though my jaw feels tight. “Just, uh…” I look between River and Cricket, suddenly feeling awkward. “Be a gentleman, okay?”
River’s eyebrows rise slightly, and Cricket stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Micah,” she says, her voice carrying a warning.
“I mean it,” I continue, even though I know I should stop talking. “She’s… she’s important to me. So… treat her right.”
River nods seriously. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”
There’s something in his tone that makes me feel like an idiot. Like I’m the overprotective brother who doesn’t trust anyone with his sister. Except Cricket isn’t my sister, and I have no right to be giving River lectures about how to treat her.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t mean to… I just…”
“It’s okay,” River says, and he actually looks like he means it. “I get it. You care about her. That’s what good friends do.”
Cricket grabs her jacket from the closet. “We should go.”
“Right.” River offers her his arm.
She takes it, and they head toward the door. “I’ll text you later,” she calls over her shoulder to me.
“Have fun,” I manage to say, though it feels like the words are being dragged out of me.
The door closes behind them, and suddenly, the house feels enormous and empty. I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, trying to figure out why I feel like I just lost something important.
I shake it off and head back to the basement, then I pull out my guitar and the notebook where I’ve been working on a new song. I’ve had this melody stuck in my head for days, but I can’t seem to find the right words to go with it.
I strum a few chords then scribble down a line: She’s got a smile that lights up the room…
No, that’s terrible. Too cliché. I cross it out and try again.
When she laughs, the world makes sense…
Also terrible. I work on it another fifteen minutes before I throw my pencil down and lean back against the couch. This is useless. I can’t concentrate.
I pick up my phone and start to text Cricket.
How’s your date going?
I stare at the text, feeling terrible for thinking about interrupting their date.
I’m being rude. I delete it and set my phone down, trying to figure out why Cricket going out with River makes my chest feel tight.
I should be happy for her. He seems like a decent guy, and she deserves someone who appreciates her.
I pick up my guitar again, but five minutes later, I’m checking to see if Cricket has texted me. She hasn’t.
I try working on the song again, but all I can think about is Cricket sitting across from River, probably laughing at his jokes and looking beautiful in that tank top and skirt that shows way too much skin.
I grab my phone again and type out another text.
You enjoying your date?
I know I shouldn’t, but I hit send. I’m too curious. If River isn’t treating her right, I need to know. She doesn’t answer back for a few minutes, but when my phone chimes, I grab it and read her text.
River stepped away from the table for a second. He was telling me about the indie film he’s auditioning for. It’s actually really interesting.
I stare at my phone. She’s having a good time. That makes my throat feel tight, but I don’t know why. I send a one-word response.
Great.
Are you okay? You seem weird.
Am I okay? I don’t know. I feel restless and irritated and like I want to drive to that restaurant and… what? Interrupt their date? Demand that Cricket come home with me instead?
I’m fine. Working on a song.
Ooh, can I hear it when I get home?
It’s not finished yet.
Well, when it is. I love hearing your new stuff.
I smile despite myself. Even when she’s on a date with another guy, she still wants to hear my music. She still cares about my dreams.
Sure. Have fun on your date.
I will. Talk to you later.
I set my phone aside and force myself to focus on the song. But twenty minutes later, I realize I’ve been strumming the same three chords over and over while thinking about Cricket.
About how she looked when River handed her those flowers. How her face lit up when he complimented her. How natural they were together walking out the door.
I try a different approach with the song, starting with a minor chord progression that matches my mood better.
She’s slipping away and I don’t know why…
I pause, my fingers frozen on the frets. Where did that come from? Cricket isn’t slipping away. She’s just on a date. One date. It doesn’t mean anything.
Except… what if it does? What if River really is as perfect as he seems? What if Cricket falls for him? What if she starts spending all her time with him instead of me? She told me she wouldn’t leave me, but how realistic is that?
I can’t help it. I pick up my phone and text again: Did you eat dessert yet?
Again, it takes her a while to answer.
We finished dessert. I’m in the bathroom. The tiramisu was incredible. I told River we need to try the gelato place down the street next time.
She said next time. This date must be going really well.
Sounds fun.
I wait for her to respond, but she doesn’t. She’s probably too busy getting lost in his perfect blue eyes to text me back.
I look down at my notebook, at the few pathetic lines I’ve managed to write, and I know what the song is really about.
It’s not about some random girl. It’s about watching someone you care about fall for someone who might take them away from you.
It’s about realizing you might lose the most important person in your world and not understanding why that thought terrifies you so much.
I start writing, the words flowing faster now.
She’s slipping away and I don’t know why
All I know is I can’t say goodbye
To the way she makes everything right
When she’s here by my side—
I stop, staring at what I’ve written. These aren’t just song lyrics. They’re… they’re how I actually feel.
About Cricket.
Not that I want her for myself. It’s not like that, even though the lyrics kind of imply that. We’re just friends. I look at the lyrics again, confusion making my head hurt.
The lyrics are too intimate. This song can’t be about Cricket after all. Which is good. Because no one would understand my true feelings for her.
Speaking of which, she should have come home by now. I glance at the clock. It doesn’t take that long to eat dessert.
I pick up my phone again without thinking. Before I know it, I’m texting Cricket again.
Are you still at the restaurant?
I wait for her to text back, but no text comes. I imagine they’re too busy talking for her to even notice my text, and my insides turn to stone. I don’t want Cricket to fall for River. I don’t want her to start spending all her time with him.
I’m afraid of losing her. As a friend.