Niko wasn’t sure what was so funny about it.
Once he was alone in his room later that night, he’d thought about looking for more. Niko wasn’t the most tech-savvy person, but he knew even his limited search skills would probably yield more information than he’d know what to do with. But half-buzzed, sprawled on his bed with his thumbs poised over the cracked screen of his phone, he hadn’t been able to do it.
It wasn’t because he wasn’t interested. It just felt wrong. Likehe’d discovered something deeply personal about her, without him having to open up at all in return. He didn’t want to learn anything else if it wasn’t straight from the source.
If only he could untie his tongue long enough to ask.
For the first time since they’d arrived, they fell into step side by side, leaving the flea market and heading back toward the main street. Silverton was a few times bigger than Crested Peak—though it was hard not to be—and had much of the same scenic Colorado mountain town atmosphere, its main attractions being the tiny airport, the full-size grocery store, and, of course, the Walmart.
“Almost done,” Niko said. “Still have to get the paint.”
They rounded the corner, passing a hole-in-the-wall burger restaurant just as someone exited. The smell of grease wafting out made Niko’s stomach growl. He checked his watch. It was already almost one.
“Are you hungry? We should get some lunch before we head back.”
She inclined her head, her mouth curling up at the corners to reveal a dimple, though it was probably too subdued to be considered a smile. “Sure. I’m good with whatever.”
He stopped short at a storefront, holding the door open for her. She, a few paces ahead of him, kept walking, then paused when she realized he was no longer next to her. Her eyes flicked across the window before her face cleared in comprehension.
“Oh.When you said paint, I thought—got it.” She ducked her head in embarrassment, walking past his outstretched arm into the art supply store.
He always loved coming here—how colorful and organized it was, the sense of possibility in every aisle. He could lose hours at a time wandering around, but today, he headed straight for the oil paints.
Merritt had already wandered away again, so he took his time selecting his paint, grabbing a new package of palette knives in assorted shapes and sizes, and stocking up on Liquin before he went hunting for her again. He found her in the pen aisle, doodling on the test pad in rainbow colors.
They approached the cash register together, her attention immediately caught by the various knickknacks positioned for impulse buys. As he laid his purchases on the counter, she reached her hand into a large plastic fishbowl full of toys and pulled out a miniature Rubik’s Cube, weighing it in her palm.
Suddenly, the thought of her being drawn to that silly banana key chain didn’t seem so far-fetched after all.
“Find everything okay?” The cashier grinned at him as she rang him up. He was friendly with most of the employees there, but he hadn’t seen her before. She looked like she was around Merritt’s age, with a full sleeve of tattoos, a thick blue streak in her hair, and a sunny grin. Her name tag readKathleen.
“Fine, thanks.” He looked over at Merritt. “You want that?”
Merritt looked up at him like she’d forgotten he was there, or maybe thatshewas there. “Hmm? No, it’s okay. But thanks.” She dropped the cube back into the fishbowl and crossed her arms, as if to stop herself from fidgeting with anything else.
When Kathleen turned her cheerful face to Merritt, her expression transformed like she’d been electrocuted. Niko thought he saw her physically jump.
“Oh!” Kathleen gasped, then clamped her hand over her mouth in chagrin. She laughed, a short, nervous peal. “Sorry. I was just—sorry.” She looked back at Niko, her face growing redder by the second. “Your total is $63.47.”
He dug his wallet out of his back pocket, but his attention was on Merritt, who was frozen next to him, smiling benignlydown at the ground as Kathleen fumbled with the credit card machine.
After handing him the bag, Kathleen opened and closed her mouth several times, bravery overtaking her at the last second.
“I—sorry,” she repeated, hesitant. “I’m not trying to be weird. But I swear to god, I’ve been wanting to get a tattoo for you for, like,years,but I could never decide what to do. Like, a lyric, or the heart, or what.” She reached for a Sharpie and turned her tatted-up forearm over on the counter, revealing the pale, untouched underside. “Would you…sign me? So I can get it tattooed later?”
Niko was openly staring at Merritt now, genuinely unsure how she would react. But she uncrossed her arms, met Kathleen’s eyes with a warm smile, and picked up the Sharpie. “Of course. I’d be honored.”
They spent a few moments negotiating size and placement before Merritt scrawled her first name in tight lowercase cursive. She crossed the last two T’s with a decisive, unbroken slash, followed by a heart pierced by an arrow. Kathleen looked like she was about to burst into tears.
“I was at your last show, you know,” she said.
Merritt recoiled slightly, enough to make the Sharpie wobble.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, then returned her gaze to Kathleen. “Sorry about that. I hope you got your money back.” Her tone was airy, but he could sense the discomfort it was camouflaging. Kathleen’s eyes widened, and he could tell she did, too.
“No, no,” she said hurriedly, her face reddening again. “Don’t apologize.I’msorry for bringing it up.”
“It’s okay.” Merritt’s smile tightened. “I’m just glad that wasn’t the last time we saw each other.” She popped the cap backon the Sharpie and gave Kathleen’s arm a parting squeeze before clearing her throat and turning to Niko. “Lunch?”
