Page 16 of Siren's Heart

"I got you your opening."

Millie

“A double date?” I ask, strained as I stretch my hamstrings on the ground, furrowing my eyebrows at Kayla. Didn’t she hear me when I told her I wasn’t looking to date? Or did she conveniently forget we had that conversation?

“Please?” She looks at me with the ’Puss in Boots’ big eyes that she knows I just can't say no to. “I can’t really say ‘no’ to the guy who asked me, and I could really, really use your moral support.”

Now, I’m even more confused. Kayla and not being able to say ‘no’ don’t really mix. I let out a long sigh and close my eyes as I loosen my stretch and accept my fate. Of course, I'm giving in. Kayla barely asks me for anything, so when she does, it's kind of a big deal. Even if she chooses not to enlighten me.

“When?”

Her face lights up as soon as the word leaves my lips, and she lets out a deep sigh of relief.

“Tomorrow after work,” she says hastily, then hurries over to our bags to retrieve her phone. Good thing Mike isn’t here yet. He’d have her head for using her phone during rehearsal.

“On a scale of one to ten, how cute do I need to look for it?” I yell after her. I mean, if she’s going there only out of some kind of obligation, I might as well save some time and show up in jogging pants, but if it's important to her, I'll absolutely dress up.

She taps her index finger against her chin and looks at the ceiling as she contemplates it.

“I think you should wear that sunflower dress you showed me yesterday.” Okay, that is… oddly specific. I make a mental note of it and decide not to question her. I’ll find out soon enough what all this is about.

“You’re lucky that tomorrow is vocal training,” I can’t help but point out. “As much as I love you, I’d never go on a date all sweaty and stinky after dance rehearsal, even if it's just for moral support." She grimaces at the thought.

“No worries, I feel the same. Thank you, Millie, you’re really saving my ass.” She pats my head as she storms past me, her finger scurrying over her phone screen to type out a message.

She seems pleased with herself; I wonder what that’s about?

The next day arrives, and annoyance about this double date has made space for nervousness. I’ve never been on a blind date before. Dates? Sure. A lot of them. Just type it into a search engine, and someone can give you all my dates, timelines, and places. But I always knew who I was meeting, and the fact that I don’t know now is driving me crazy!

“Do I look okay?” I ask Kayla after we’re finished with our vocal training. I quickly changed from the sweats I like to wear for any kind of training into the white dress with the sunflower print she mentioned and touched up my subtle makeup that makes my eyes pop, and my skin glow.

Like most of the other dresses I own, the hem plays just above my knees, highlighting the white platform high heels I put on to make my legs seem longer. My hair is open, curls falling over my shoulders and tickling the part of my skin not covered by fabric.

Meanwhile, she had already left her flat dressed to the nines, wearing a crème-colored fluffy sweater, a beige plaited skirt, and thigh-high brown faux leather boots. The only thing she does is spray her fringe with dry shampoo before ruffling it out and refreshing her powder.

“Yeah, you look cute,” she assures me with a soft grin. She steps closer to me and fluffs my hair up a bit. “There. Perfect.”

Suddenly, nervousness rises in me like a sped-up tide. My fingers itch for something to fiddle with, and I finally find the bracelet on my right hand, and I roll the white pearls between my thumb and index finger.

“Thank you,” I mumble and smile at her. “Ah, by the way,” I perk up and search for my bag in the studio. “I made you something.”

There it is, tucked between two pillows on the couch. I quickly grab the small, white handbag and rummage through it, pushing all my knickknacks aside. There’s gum, my wallet, lipstick, a small bottle of perfume – things a girl needs for a date. Finally, I feel the smooth surface of pearls under my fingers and fish out another bracelet.

Over the past year, I've started collecting cute beads and pearls I findin random little stores. And since it's boring when I'm the only one looking at them, I've started crafting cute little bracelets out of them, and I’ve grown to love it. It gives me space to relax and makes my brain rest while my hands function on autopilot. And by the end of it, I have cute little gifts to give away, or to treasure the memories I’ve made from where I bought the pearls.

“Give me your hand.”

She does, and I open the delicate clasp, laying the bracelet over her wrist before I snap it closed again.

It’s the exact opposite of mine. Ying-and-Yang style, I made mine with white pearls, adding one black one, and hers with black ones, adding only one white one. They're a washed-out, matte color that caught my eye, and they’re from the final city we played our last tour in. They made me think of her when I found them.

“I found these cute pearls and just had to make you one, too.” I hold up my own wrist and wriggle it, making the pearls rattle. She looks at her own wrist with wide eyes and freezes. Fuck, maybe she hates it. “Do you like it?”

Slowly, her eyes soften, and a smile tugs at her lips. “I love it,” she answers happily, and I grin when she takes off the golden one she’s wearing on her other hand, sliding it into her bag. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome,” I say happily, nudging her shoulder with mine before changing topics. “And you still won’t tell me who we're meeting? I couldn't even do the obligatory internet research to know what I'm dealing with.”

I just hope it's not another newcomer our label wants us to showmance with occasionally. The last one they tried to set me up with had no personality, and the one before that thought he was God's gift to humankind. I know the ones they set Kayla up with weren’t much better. I just hope Naroa knows better than to try that again.

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