Chapter 15 #2
“Shrimp. With pink sprinkles and lemon garnish.”
Pushing the menus back into the rack, Cosmo said, “And did you drink this shrimp milkshake?”
“Of course. But I failed to mention that I have a shellfish allergy, so we had a bonus trip to the hospital.”
“I know that isn’t true, because we ate lobster toast together at the bistro.
” Cosmo rolled his eyes. “And if you’d like my opinion, I think we’re now in a parallel universe.
If all of time exists at once and always has, that would be the only way to change the trajectory.
” Cosmo looked at both of them and apparently didn’t get the confirmation he was hoping for, because he said, “It makes sense. I read about the many-worlds theory when I was looking up information about spacetime. Supposedly, a new universe is created each time anyone makes any decision.”
“I don’t know,” Micah said. “A new universe budding every time I debate whether to brush my teeth or not feels egotistical.”
“You should be brushing your teeth twice a day.” Cosmo huffed. “And flossing.”
“Flossing is against my religion. And I kind of feel like we’re making something out of nothing.
We don’t know if what we experienced were premonitions.
If Other Micah shows up again, I can compare notes with him about the future, but that’s about it.
I kind of hope he doesn’t, though. He’ll just tell me about some other future event that I’ll screw up. ”
“It’s not nothing,” Déjà said. “And you shouldn’t be ignoring this new ability, even if it seems benign now. This could be serious. You altered time. And you’re being flippant about it. Don’t you think that’s a dangerous thing to mess around with?”
“I don’t know! I’d say I’ve never done this before, but maybe I have. Who knows how many Micahs have fucked up how many universes!” God, he needed some fresh air. He was too on edge. “Will you excuse me?”
“Micah–”
He waved off their protests and hurried outside, rounding the side of the building and pacing the sidewalk beside the parking lot.
A cardboard drink cup rolled across the asphalt, tumbling in the breeze.
He was treading water again, and the dark icy sea always at the fringes of his consciousness was just waiting for him to give up so it could swallow him.
It was so tempting to stop fighting and embrace the numbness it would bring.
His car sat nearby, and he considered climbing in and driving home. Texting Cosmo that something had come up, then climbing into bed and never getting back out would be easy. He’d managed to ignore the world for nine months. What was the rest of his life?
As he strode for his car, a strange feeling overcame him that he should be at home right now. At home putting the final details on that godawful landscape painting. Focusing on the blades of grass was making his eye hurt, like it often did, so he’d get up to mist his Thai constellation, and–
He rushed back into the soda shop and dropped next to Cosmo.
“I– I think I just had another premonition, or whatever we’re deciding they are.
Maybe they’re Other Micah’s memories? Because…
They’re wrong, like your premonition was yesterday.
I couldn’t predict what flavor of shake I’d get because I never went here with you.
I was at home, painting and watering my plants.
We had plans to get milkshakes later in the day, but then you got a text that–”
Cosmo’s phone vibrated, and he startled, eyes wide. “What’s it going to say?”
“I don’t know. I just know that you broke off plans with me because of it, and I didn’t see you until late in the evening. Do you know what it’s going to say?”
He shook his head and fought to pull the phone from his tight jeans.
Micah glanced at Déjà. “How weird is this for you? On a scale from one to ten?”
“Considering that I’ve gotten over my initial shock and can sense ghosts and auras, like a four?
No matter how pointless you think this might be, you altered something by intercepting Cosmo yesterday, and by calling me to come help.
I mean that as a neutral statement, not an accusation.
” She lowered her voice, twisting a gothic cameo pendant between her acrylic nails.
“I’d like to think I’d help Cosmo in any universe or timeline too, but I don’t know if that’s true.
Just… Pay attention to this sense. I ignored mine for a long time, and I wish I hadn’t. That’s all.”
He nodded. He was bringing his own baggage and experiences to this situation, and Déjà was only doing the same. It couldn’t hurt him to stay aware of this sense in case it meant something eventually.
A little of the color left Cosmo’s cheeks as he stared at his phone.
After tapping out a reply, he said, “Hina, the gallerist, wants me to come remove all my art and supplies from Identical Dog. She liked my sculptures enough to give me a spot in the gallery, but I guess she doesn’t like them that much. ”
That was a bummer of a reason for Other Cosmo to cancel plans. Micah said, “I’m sorry. It’s probably for the best that you have everything out of there, but I know that sounds like hollow consolation.”
“I figured trying to work at Night Gallery would be the easiest, since Hina and Simone are friends. But I get the feeling Hina thinks Simone has stolen me out from under her.” He turned up his nose.
“Well, if she’d given me a promotion in any of the years I’d been there, maybe I wouldn’t be leaving. ”
“I hope you’re treated better at Night Gallery.” Micah’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the text. It was from Déjà:
Other Micah hadn’t done that, he was quite sure. Cosmo shouldn’t have to bear all of this alone, and if Royce was there, the idea of Déjà having to stand up to that pervert was as worrisome as Cosmo doing it.
“I’ll go with you,” Micah said. “I’d love to see some of your art and know what this poor gallery is depriving itself of.”
Cosmo tugged on his polymer clay earring, and there was so much gratitude in his eyes that it made Micah’s heart ache. “I’d love that. But what if you don’t like my art?”
“I know I will.” He soaked in Cosmo’s appearance, then tentatively poked one of the glittery bangles on his bony wrist. “You look like a Peter Gabriel video threw up on you.”
“Thank you.” His smile grew a little bigger. “I’m in a Memphis Milano phase right now.”
“He only put on fifteen different outfits trying to decide which one was the cutest.” Déjà winked at Micah.
Why was she winking? This look couldn’t be for Micah.
Shouldn’t be. Their worlds were too different.
What Cosmo had said about Micah’s PTSD during their argument had only hurt because it was the truth.
He was too similar to his monsteras and his Chinese evergreens; he wasn’t acclimated to these conditions.
Bring him out of the dark and safety of his apartment and he’d wither and crumble.
If they kept this up, there would only be more arguments where Micah’s trauma, or his age, or being out of the art scene was the problem. The fantasy of Cosmo in the comfort of the studio had been perfect, but reality was harsh and messy and wouldn’t spare his feelings.
The waitress returned and set a huge ecru-colored milkshake before him. Black sprinkles and pieces of candy corn adorned the whipped cream.
Oh, gross. This was a mistake. “Not shrimp, huh?”
Cosmo gasped. “Candy corn! How delightful.” He struggled to suck his pumpkin milkshake through the straw, exaggerating his already defined cheekbones, then gave up and used his spoon.
Déjà picked up her backpack. “I’m going to take mine to go.” She slid out of the booth. “Keep me updated on the spacetime stuff, huh? And Cosmo… Maybe we can hang out again sometime.”
Oh no, she was leaving them here alone together.
Micah gave her a weak goodbye, then turned back to his milkshake.
He dug up a spoonful, hoping the candy on top was merely a garnish, but he was met with the overwhelming flavor of marzipan and craft paste.
He gagged. There was no pretending he could like that. “I hate candy corn.”
Cosmo squinted. “I don’t like you.”
“It tastes like someone blended a book of stamps with stale sugar cookies.”
“Do you like pumpkin pie?” Cosmo carved out a scoop of russet shake and offered it to Micah.
Micah attempted to take the spoon, but Cosmo lightly touched his jaw and pushed the bite into his mouth.
Nutmeg and pumpkin melted on his tongue.
Cosmo brushed whipped cream from Micah’s bottom lip with his thumb; it sent electric pleasure tingling through him, and he threatened to melt just as quickly.
Abort! Abort!
Sitting back, Cosmo slowly licked the remainder off of the spoon. “Did you like that?”
He could have fed Micah a heaping spoonful of mustard from the condiment rack and he would have said yes. “Uh, yeah.”
Reaching over, he dug into Micah’s milkshake, then sucked the spoon clean.
“The sprinkles are turning the whipped cream gray, but it’s delicious.
” He pulled the shake to himself and slid the pumpkin one in front of Micah, then plucked a piece of candy corn from the shake and pushed it between his lips.
Micah jabbed the straw into the pumpkin shake and swirled the cream around. It was a struggle not to think about Cosmo’s mouth. And his eyeshadow. And that he’d tried on fifteen different outfits before settling on one he thought Micah would like.
His mind mercifully switched topics when they left and he followed Cosmo’s ancient sedan to Identical Dog.
No matter what his feelings for Cosmo or his sudden new ability to peek into a window of a future that wasn’t his, he couldn’t allow himself to screw up Cosmo’s safety again.
He’d said he was fine, but Micah didn’t believe it, and he was determined to be support in the gallery.