Chapter Twenty-Eight
Micah had forgotten how much she enjoyed talking to other musicians—the common language of gear and production and personnel, the excited appreciation for fellow artists who were crossing genres.
Somehow she’d gotten it into her head that every interaction she had with anyone in the industry would have this giant elephant sitting right in the middle of it, like she wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the eye without seeing her own failure reflected back at her.
But when the Silver Cuties’ drummer asked if she’d ever consider doing some vocals on one of their songs as a feature, she didn’t automatically jump to assume the question was in bad faith, that he was making fun of her somehow.
And even if she knew her maybe was just a soft way to say probably not , still. It had felt good to be asked.
By the time John made his way over to her, one of the members of the Silver Cuties had already moved on to get another drink and the conversation was coming to a close anyway.
She smiled at John as he approached, and there was a brief awkward moment when it would’ve been natural for him to put his arm around her or lean over to give her a kiss.
She could tell he wanted to. She wanted him to, wanted to pull him closer herself.
She’d been watching him out of the corner of her eye, the whole time he’d been talking with Tatiana.
At one point, he’d shrugged out of his hoodie, and she couldn’t help but track the motion, taking in the flex of his biceps under his T-shirt, his exposed forearms lightly dusted with hair, the knob of bone at his wrist.
At the same time, there was still an entire day left on this cruise, and she didn’t know if it made sense to introduce this new variable into the mix. With their fellow bandmates, with the audience, even with themselves. She was trying to hit all the right notes.
So she settled for keeping things casual. “Did you smooth out all your differences after shuffleboard?” she asked.
“For sure,” he said. “And you will not believe this, but Tatiana has been dating Library Dead Girl for months now.”
Micah searched her brain for what that could possibly mean. “That has to be the name of some performance artist or something, right, because you don’t look sufficiently weirded out if that’s literal.”
“I forgot you’re not the hardcore Nightshifters fan I am,” John said. “She’s an actress who was in one episode as a girl who got murdered on her way home from the library—Mallory something.”
“Ohhh,” she said, less because she remembered anything about the episode John was referencing and more because she finally got what he was saying. “Damn, that’s cool. People would lose their minds.”
“That’s exactly what we said.” He grinned at her, like he was proud of her for reaching the same conclusion he and Tatiana had. It wasn’t even like it was that big a deal—it was an extremely easy conclusion to reach—and yet she still felt his approval like a warm glow.
“I didn’t realize she was…gay. Or bi, or pan. In a same-sex relationship. I only remember hearing about past boyfriends.”
“I don’t know how open she is about it,” John said. “So we’ll just keep it to ourselves to be on the safe side.”
“Definitely.” Micah had been out as long as she could remember—she’d admitted to crushes on girls as far back as fourth grade, and she’d matter-of-factly told her parents because at the time she didn’t even think there might be a reason why she might not want to.
She’d been fortunate to have a loving family who didn’t blink at something like that, who never made her feel like she was different or wrong or anything other than just…
a person who happened to be attracted to more than one gender.
“Does it bother you that I’m bi?” she asked John now, the words flying out of her mouth before she could think about taking them back.
His brows drew together. “No…I hope I’ve never given you any reason to think it would.”
“No,” she said. “But some people…I don’t know. I’ve dated people who seemed confused by it, or intimidated by it, or who didn’t even believe it was a ‘thing.’?”
She probably didn’t have to tell him that Ryder was one of those people. He vacillated between fetishizing her sexuality, when it suited him to picture her with another woman, or erasing it, when he tried to convince her that she probably wasn’t really bisexual.
“I’ve always thought it was cool that you knew yourself that way from a relatively young age,” John said.
“I’m glad you felt safe enough to share it with people.
It doesn’t confuse me or intimidate me, and I do believe it’s a real thing.
I also believe in climate change, while we’re laying all our cards on the table. ”
She knocked her shoulder against his, the closest she could get to a bit of PDA while they were literally on a stage surrounded by hundreds of people. “I believe in climate change, too,” she said. “But speaking of cards on the table…I think I have an idea for our next stop.”
—
The ship’s casino was a cacophony of flashing lights and various electronic sounds, and it was hard to get through the crush of regular people, much less the ones wanting an autograph or picture.
But Micah was gratified when she saw the top of Frankie’s tightly curled hair behind one of the machines, and she assumed Steve was nearby, too.
She’d thought she might find them there.
“How do you feel about group activities on a date?” she said into John’s ear, trying to get the volume right to where he’d hear her over the din but she wouldn’t be blowing out his eardrum.
He raised his eyebrows. “Normally I’d save that for the sixth, maybe seventh, but I can be adventurous.”
She pinched his arm, wishing she could linger over that spot, rub the wound she’d just inflicted. But instead she separated herself from him more, pulling ahead as she led him over to where Steve and Frankie were standing in front of a couple slot machines.
“Heyyyy!” Steve yelled when he saw them, stretching out the word in a way that suggested he was definitely at least a little lit.
“Still spending your vouchers?” Micah asked.
Frankie gave Steve an indulgent look, like he was a child who’d been on the same carousel all day in a theme park full of rides. “Those ran out a long time ago.”
Micah wanted to bring up what had happened with Ryder, wanted to thank them for taking a stand against him.
But she didn’t know how to mention it without getting emotional in the middle of the casino, which would be a jarring experience on multiple levels.
So instead she just patted Steve on the back.
“What’s the damage so far?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve broken even,” Steve said. “House money.”
“You have not broken even,” Frankie said. “And you don’t know what house money means. What have you guys been up to?”
For some reason Micah’s brain went first to all the X-rated stuff she and John had gotten up to, all the things she absolutely could not tell her bandmates about. There were several beats of silence while she just stood there, trying to figure out how to even answer that question.
“We were rehearsing ‘If Only’ for prom,” John said finally, and of course , that was the thing to say. She felt her cheeks heat and just hoped Frankie didn’t notice.
“I think it sounds really good,” Micah said. “I’m excited about it.”
“I imagine. This performance is going to be iconic.” Then they seemed to hear what they’d just said, and they quickly backtracked.
“In a non-pressurey kind of way. Iconic like it’ll just be a bird floating on the breeze, not a care in the world.
Iconic like one of those crop circles that just naturally happens without anyone needing to do any of the work for it. ”
“Those are made by aliens,” Steve put in. “I watched a documentary.”
“The point is,” Frankie said, “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
Even a couple days ago, Frankie’s words would have made Micah freak out.
She was aware of the stakes of tomorrow night’s performance, the fact that they had been scheduled to provide the climactic moment of the cruise, four minutes that were meant to be the most magical of the entire trip.
But she really didn’t feel nervous about it anymore.
She was looking forward to being on that stage with John, to showing everyone what they could do.
Micah slid her and John’s casino vouchers from her back pocket, holding them up. “Now,” she said. “How do we go about using these?”
A few minutes later, they were both set up on slot machines—not because Micah particularly enjoyed the experience of pushing a button over and over, or because she cared about the extremely low odds of winning anything, but because they were open and it was something to do.
John took a turn on one, the lights flashing across his face while he waited to see what images the machine would land on.
“I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” he said. “Three cherries in a row? Isn’t that the usual thing?”
“I don’t see any cherries,” Micah said. “But number seven is lucky, right? And the diamonds look promising.”
She kept hitting the button, and random things would light up and tell her when she’d won some kind of bonus, but it truly was baffling to figure out what was happening.
Steve stood over her shoulder and tried to tell her when she’d hit a multiplier, but she didn’t know what that meant and then she quickly lost it again.
“I hate gambling,” John said. “I never do it. I don’t even like white elephant gift exchanges and stuff like that. They make me so uncomfortable.”
John liked certainty. She’d always known that about him, and now that she knew a bit more about what he’d been through as a kid, it made even more sense to her—that he wouldn’t like that feeling of not knowing what to expect.