Chapter 34. Micah
MICAH
Brynn sees the SoHo bistro, with its green-striped awning and cluster of potted plants outside, first. “Ooh, they’re open!” She tugs me toward it.
Inside, rows of white globes hang from the ceiling like an airport runway. The simple tables and curved-back chairs cluster in front, with a small bar in the back.
The servers, dressed in non-matching striped shirts, yawn at us as they buff glasses and set out silverware. The stench of stale beer from last night and freshly brewed coffee battle it out for dominance.
I can’t stop touching her. A magnetic force keeps drawing me back to wherever she is—beginning with our knees, which keep meeting under this ridiculously small table.
She doesn’t move her legs away.
I end up hugging hers with mine like a love-struck puppy who can’t stop wagging his tail.
The trajectory of last night—from my anxious worrying that she’d take off again to then watching her pleasure herself in my living room to at last having her in my bed—has my mind exploding.
This girl, this girl. I haven’t wiped the smile from my face since last night’s unexpected sleepover, outside of the moment the Shadow People decided to join us in my bedroom.
I worked so hard to tune them out, I fell sleep.
I find the way she orders her tofu frittata and avocado toast mesmerizing.
When the server leaves, she catches me staring and does a double take. “What?”
“Nothing.” I tone down my giddiness and strike a serious face. “So, how long have you been a virgin? Vegan. I meant vegan.” Shit.
She smirks and makes a show of perusing the drink menu, seemingly confident we won’t get carded.
“In answer to your second question . . . My class went to a farm in elementary school. I got bored and wandered off—and ended up watching an axe come down on a pig’s neck.
Its little legs kept moving as they dismembered it. ” Her body recoils from the memory.
She casts a spell on another passing server with her radiant smile and orders a Bloody Mary, extra spicy. Like her.
He forgets the part about seeing her ID. I can’t say I blame him.
“My mom and dad called it a phase. I didn’t know anyone who cared about animal cruelty.
When people started researching where their food came from, that it doesn’t magically appear on a supermarket shelf, veganism became trendy.
Then my parents got on board and posed naked for PETA.
The headline read something like, Ink, Not Mink. ”
“Nice, they wanted to support you.”
She rolls her eyes. “More like get publicity for their club.”
“Was your boyfriend vegan?”
Her lips twitch. “No.”
“He’s the surfer-looking guy in the photo next to your bed, right?” I work to keep my tone neutral like I’m asking about the weather. “You’re prettier without all that makeup. No offense.”
“Cody liked it. Um, let’s talk about something else.”
I’m not ready to drop it. “Sounds like he had his claws in you.”
Her eyes flash. “You know nothing about him.”
“So, what happened?”
She winces a little. “Can we drop it?”
I raise my palms. “I just want to get to know you.”
She gives me a blank stare. After a long beat, she exhales. “We met in high school; both of us were impatient to get our music careers going. Cody’s band put together a tour the fall of our senior year and invited me to join them.”
“So, less than a year ago.”
“The first night of the tour, a car hit him.”
I take a sharp breath. “You saw it happen?”
She shakes her head, looking away.
I dated a few girls in high school. Never once did I plan to run off with any of them. I can’t even imagine it now, at twenty. She’s so young; what was the rush with this guy?
The server arrives with our food. “The plates are hot,” he cautions.
I wait for him to leave before asking, “If you studied voice, why aren’t you singing now?”
“Just no desire to.” She shrugs and takes a bite of her frittata.
“You could still tour with his band. Could be cathartic.”
“You don’t get it.” She lowers her fork.
I reach for her other hand. It disappears into her lap.
“That same night, my dad lost control of his car driving to Westchester to see our first show. Both my parents died.” Her voice drops.
“Wait, he hit your boyfriend?”
She narrows her eyes. “Why would you say that?”
I tilt my head. I need more coffee and a better timeline. “Sorry, I misunderstood.”
She rubs the side of her face. “Someone else hit him outside a music store.”
“Two car accidents on the same night?” I shake my head. “Weirdly random. Do you have other family?”
She clenches her jaw. “It’s just me now.”
“How about your friends?”
“I haven’t seen them since graduation. Both of them headed off to college, anyway.”
“I get that. I don’t talk to my high school friends either.”
She swirls her celery in her glass. She bites the end like it’s my head.
“How’s everything tasting?”
We nod in silence, waiting for him to leave again.
She brings her Bloody Mary to her lips. “Are you in college?”
“I took a few classes in San Diego.” I glance away, unable to look at her. “I hoped to see my dad more if I went to school in Cali. I didn’t. Our relationship’s kind of complicated.”
She pushes the food around on her plate. “What about your mom? You said she wasn’t really around?”
“My mom . . . well . . .”
The morning sun shifts behind her, filtering through the glass entry door and windows and creating a tunnel effect. My ears clog, muffling the sounds around me. Brynn’s head becomes backlit like a halo, her facial features concealed in shadow. She could be anyone right now.
Someone asks me to repeat what I just said. Problem is, I haven’t a clue.
Does she think about Cody when I kiss her?
Do I even want to know?
Am I merely the rebound guy?
When I touch her, does she think about his hands on her?
Am I a casual fling, something to fill time?
Am I attracted by the fact that her heart seems unattainable? Some macho notion she’ll become more obsessed with me than she was with him?
Did the last twenty-four hours mean anything to her?
I’m afraid to see the answer in her eyes.
I’m sort of grateful her circumstances led her to me. Pretty sick, I admit. Selfish too. We wouldn’t have met. Does she think I’m the one silver lining?
“Micah? Micah.”
My eyes refocus. “Yeah,” I say, my tone confident, like I’ve been with her the whole time.
She cocks her head. “I asked about your mom.”
“Ah, I never knew her.”
She blinks. “You look angry.”
“I’m not.” I smile wide, rewriting the moment.
We walk outside afterward. Holding my breath, I intertwine my fingers with hers.
She sidles closer to me and I’m wagging all over again.
“Down for a little adventure?”
She glances up at me, shielding her eyes from the ball of fire high in the sky. “I think so?”
“We could trek uptown for some music in the park.”
“It’s already boiling out here.”
“We’ll get some floppy hats and sunscreen along the way.”
Her skeptical look softens. “What time does it start?”
“We have time.” I grin.
We come up empty at the first couple of thrift stores so we walk west to catch the subway. After transferring a few times, we arrive at Seventy-Second and Broadway.
I gesture up the street. “Isn’t there a thrift store up here?”
She squints ahead. “A few blocks up, I think.”
Inside, we skip past the store’s rounders of clothes organized by decade to the hats and accessories displayed in the back. My nose twitches from the mix of floral air freshener and that musty thrift store smell.
“I like this top hat.” The corners of her eyes crease as she picks it up. “Bet it’s full of stories. Can you imagine wearing this for a night out on the town?”
I slap on a hat and turn to her. “How about this?”
“Nice, amigo. It suits you.” She laughs at the pile of straw on my head and puts a wide-brimmed number on. “Ooh, how does this one look?”
“Like Janis Joplin headlining at Woodstock. Perfect.”
She steps up beside me at the register. “So, where’s the concert?”
“In the big shell.”
Her eyes expand. “Naumburg Bandshell, on a Sunday?”
“Ever perform there?”
She shakes her head.
“Let’s take an Uber.” I clasp her hand. “We don’t want to be late.”