“Fishin’ in the Dark” filters through the speakers, and a terrible static follows it. The nervous shake of my hand rubs the microphone against my pocket, and I jerk it away from my body like it’s caught fire. When a handful of people in the audience laugh, I look up to find everyone hunkered over stilted tables on stools, watching my every move. I swallow again as the first verse begins without me, wondering why I thought this was such a good idea. I should have just waited for Reed.
Then someone whoops from the back. Thousands of tiny, brilliant lights bounce off the disco ball and scatter across the room. I try to block the light with my forearm, but I can’t see who it is. The cheer sounds again, louder this time, and I giggle.
Stop taking yourself so seriously, Teddy. You came to have fun.
I shake off the jitters, my bob swinging from side to side in front of my face and my hips bouncing to the rhythm of the music. When I feel the energy travel all the way to the toe tap of my suede cowgirl boots, I lift the microphone to my mouth and begin to sing.
My voice shakes at first, but then more and more people join in, singing along and cheering. A grin splits across my face, and it fuels my hips to sway a little more, laugh at myself, have a good time.
My head clears. It feels like I’m floating as I dance down the stage steps, interacting with the audience.It’s working!I forget all about my conversation with my parents or the fact that I was ever nervous to do this in the first place. But most of all, I forget there was someone encouraging me to sing from the back of the room. Someone no longer disguised by bright lights as I descend the bottom of the stage steps.
Miles pushes his way through the crowd of people until he finds a stool to sit on. His eyes track my hips, and he tilts his head—a subtle nod that bolsters me through every new note I sing. He’s glowing as I hit the chorus and I grin, singing right to him.
He looks good. A pair of jeans hug his thighs, and a white T-shirt fits snug against the width of his shoulders.What is he doing here, I wonder as he starts mouthing along to the words, and for a moment, the song becomes a duet. Even though the rest of the room can only hear me, the lyrics volley between his lips and mine, and everyone else falls away.
I don’t just forget about earlier; I transcend to this space where my soul feels connected to someone else. It feels so good to be seen forme. When the song starts to fade, I bend myself in half in a great big bow. I’m breathless from dancing and attempt to restore my lungs, but the inhale turns into more of a gasp. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me as I right myself. I almost stagger backward, and my heart skitters to a stop. Reed is frozen a few feet behind the barstool Miles sits on. His venomous glare murdering him from behind.
I pant a couple of times into the microphone before remembering where I am and drop it from my lips. The crowd continues to cheer as I look around for a place to set the microphone down. I sort of stumble over to the nearest table and deposit it on top of it.
When I look back up again, there’s a hint of concern that has zipped Miles’s furrowed brows together. I’m sure he’s expecting me to come say hello. Iwantto, but I think I owe Reed an apology. An explanation after inviting him here and then forcing him to witness an intimate moment between Miles and me like that. He had to have seen it with the look of devastation that’s on his face. I mouthI’m sorryto Miles as I brush right past him to where Reed stands waiting for me.
“You were great up there,” Reed says.
I want to look back over my shoulder and make sure Miles is okay too.I don’t know what to do.
“Thanks. I’m… sorry I didn’t wait for you. It’s just that, they had my song on the jukebox, and I really needed to let loose.”
His lips lift in a smile. “I see that. Just like the old Teddy.”
My heart crashes from my chest to my stomach at his words. As if there’s an old Teddy that needs to be reincarnated. As if I’m not standing here in front of him as the truest version of me. I waslivingon that stage. It’s the first time Reed has indicated he wants me to be someone else.
As I sort through my feelings, Miles forces his way past us to the exit. Between me not acknowledging him for Reed’s sake and the fact that Reed didn’t appreciate my performance in the way I hoped he would, I start to feel upset.
I press a finger into his chest. “You promised me you wouldn’t get your hopes up. Is that all you want from me?”
Reed stumbles back a step. “What?”
“Is that all you want from me?” I repeat. “To be the old Teddy?” I fold my arms across my chest.
“What? No, of course not. I want you to beyou. Youwereyou up there, that’s all I’m saying,” he clarifies, and then reaches for my hands.
When his warm fingertips snake through mine I feel safe. And I hate that this is the moment reserved as the first time he’s really held my hand. They drown mine in the best way, and I want to be focusing on that feeling instead of this big gaping hole between us. I’m not sure I’ll ever measure up to the Teddy that Reed remembers.
“I just need you to know that I’ve tried,” I say. “I’ve tried so hard to remember that girl you used to know, but she’s not coming back.” I start to cry.
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m sorry,” Reed says, bending over so he’s eye level with me and brushing the tears that fall down my cheeks. “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. Can we go outside and talk?”
A group of teenage girls belt their rendition of “Goodbye Earl” from the stage, and it’s impossible to compete with their volume. I nod into his hands that are cradling the sides of my face, and he leads me to the green Exit sign. We walk in silence across the gravel parking lot to his truck where he pops the tailgate down and hoists me on top of it.
“That surprises me every time,” I laugh through my cry.
“You’re barely five feet, Teddy, I don’t expect you to pole vault.”
The topic change diffuses the tension between us, but I falter in the silence. The night sky matches the mood, shifting into a somber, dusky blue. There’s a group of teenagers piling out of a truck bed near us, but they’re all loud laughter and witty banter, so they don’t even notice us. There’s a girl with them, and her attention lobs back and forth between the two guys she’s walking with. She grins in a light and easy way that makes me jealous.
Maybe that’s where I’ve gone wrong. I can feel myself slipping from the friend zone with both Miles and Reed, and it’s a dangerous position to put myself in. It’s making all three of us insecure.
“I didn’t know he was coming,” I admit.
