She hands me the microphone before jumping off the stage and making a beeline for a group of men sitting at a table next to the stage. I don’t have time for men or a relationship, but I’d be blind not to notice how large and physically fit the men are.
I don’t have the chance to lament not having time for a man before the upbeat tempo plays and I begin to sing. As I sing and dance, all my worries disappear. Nothing exists in this moment in time except me with a microphone on a stage.
The crowd joins in to sing the chorus and their energy feeds me. I forget how tired I am. How I’m stuck on the song I’m currently writing. How my feet ache from waitressing all day atFive Fathoms Brewing.How much laundry there is to fold when I get home.
The song ends and the crowd bursts into applause. I allow the sound to warm me – what I wouldn’t do to hear this kind of applause every night – before waving and exiting the stage.
I hand the microphone to the next singer before making my way to the restrooms. I splash water on my face to cool down.
I’d love to sing a few more songs but I can’t. My sister, Mila, still hadn’t finished her homework when I left home with my brother, Otis. According to her, it’s summer and summer school homework is stupid. I can’t rely on Penelope to help her. My two younger sisters fight and bicker worse than a mermaid and a pirate.
Guilt slams into my chest. It’s not fair Mila has to attend summer school when her friends are goofing off all summer. But she’s not old enough to stay home on her own all day and Penelope can’t be trusted not to tie her sister up in the basement when she gets annoying.
If I gave up my songwriting, I could maybe have enough time. Maybe I should…
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter now anyway. Mom already paid for summer school. Maybe next summer, I can figure out a better arrangement.
My phone dings with a message. I dig it out of my pocket as I hurry out of the restroom and run straight into a wall.
Except the wall grasps my elbow to steady me. “You okay?”
I step back and glance up. Holy mermaids swimming in the sea! Is this man real? I never understood what books and magazines meant by chiseled face and strong jaw before but I do now. Because this man is the definition of both.
And then there are his eyes. Deep brown, the color of chocolate. They’re warm and sparkling. He grins and a dimple appears on his left cheek. He went from handsome to approachable in the blink of an eye.
Life isn’t fair. If it was, I’d have time to get to know this man. My phone beeps with another message. So much for life being fair.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
I try to walk past him but he steps in my way to block my exit. My brow wrinkles. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Gage.”
“Um…okay.”
“Gage Edwards.”
“I need to get going, Gage Edwards.”
I motion for him to move out of my way but he doesn’t. He appears confused.
“Don’t you know who I am?”
“You’re Gage Edwards. You literally just told me your name.”
He smiles. “Exactly.”
“I don’t have time for your games. I need to go.”
His smile dies. “You’re not joking. You don’t know who I am.”
“Why would I know who you are? You’re not a smuggler.”
“A smuggler?”
“A native to Smuggler’s Hideaway. We refer to ourselvesas smugglers.”
“Cool. This island is awesome. Women dressed up as mermaids. Smuggler’s lore.”
