Page 26 of Never Been Shipped

And then there had been Ryder, who just seemed determined to be every asshole stereotype he could fit in before lunchtime.

“Hey, man,” he said to John now, clapping him on the shoulder as they packed up the gear, some of which cruise officials would take care of later. “I know they didn’t need two guitarists for bingo, and since you don’t like public speaking—or hell, private speaking—I think it’s smart that you’re sitting this one out.”

Micah was required to be one of the hosts for the bingo game, of course, and John had happily conceded one of the other two spots to Frankie, who seemed really excited to do it. Ryder wasn’twrongabout John’s antipathy toward public speaking, so it had been an easy decision to make. Ryder was the logical third person to round out the hosting duties, and even though John and Steve were supposed to sit up in the balcony seats of the theater to still be “around” and “participating,” somehow he knew that Steve was going to sneak out halfway through for that pool time he was determined to get.

It had been a no-brainer to opt out of bingo, but then Johnhad to watch from the balcony while Ryder made a show of pulling out Micah’s stool onstage and helping her up. And suddenly John felt like he wanted to go back in time and insist that he could’ve hosted the shit out of some bingo, actually.

“Who’s ready to play some games and win prizes and hang out with ElectricOh!, am I right?” the host from the cruise ship said into his microphone, gesturing over toward the small table on the stage where Frankie, Ryder, and Micah were seated on their stools. Micah gave an awkward little laugh, raising her own microphone to her mouth.

“Well, three fifths of ElectricOh!,” she said. “The rest is up there where they can heckle us.”

The crowd below swiveled to look up toward where John and Steve were sitting in the balcony seats, and Steve put two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle.

“We’ll let security handle them if they get too rambunctious,” the cruise host quipped, then gestured up toward the screen behind the stage where all the bingo numbers were displayed. “I know I don’t need to explain how this game works, but…”

He went on to explain how the game worked, which John tuned out while he watched Ryder place his hand on Micah’s waist, leaning in to say something in her ear. She laughed, but John could tell it was for show.

Whohadended things between them? And when? John hadn’t allowed himself to think too much about Ryder and Micah’s relationship. It had been like a mild case of tinnitus the entire time they’d been together—always there, always annoying, but much, much worse if you actually focused on it.

John wondered which floral tattoo was for Ryder, if she’d gotten one for him at all. He knew that was the story behindMicah’s tattoos—the ones he knew about, anyway. She’d gotten a different flower for different people who were important to her life somehow. The dandelion on her neck was for her younger sister; the peony was for her grandmother; and she had a rose on her thigh that was based on one that could only be found at Graceland or had been named after Graceland, he couldn’t remember.

They’d gone to get their first tattoos together, when they were still technically underage. They’d flipped through books of the artist’s flash work, trying to decide what to get, suggesting more and more outlandish options for the other one. Finally, Micah had closed the book, looking up at him with an expression that was more questioning than triumphant.

“I know what I’m doing,” she said.

“The pizza slice on roller blades?”

“I don’t think we’re at thematchingtattoo phase yet,” she said, nudging his shoulder.

It had been a joke, clearly, and yet he felt something catch in his throat. “So what is it, then?”

“You can see it when it’s done,” she said. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

But even after they’d taken Micah back to another room, John kept turning the pages of the book, with zero idea what he wanted to commit to putting permanently on his body. And when they’d called his name and he’d stood up, catching a glimpse of the couple people laid out on tables in the main area of the tattoo shop, artists bent over them with needles buzzing…he couldn’t do it. He’d shaken his head, sitting back down.

“I’m just waiting for someone,” he said, even though he’d filled out the same forms that Micah had, had clearly put hisname down for an appointment. The shop must have been used to people bailing at the last minute, though, because the guy with the gauged ears and tattoos covering half his face had just shrugged, going back to the computer to click through a few screens.

When Micah had finally emerged from getting her tattoo done, he couldn’t see any wrapping or bandages visible on her arms or legs. “Well?” he asked. “What did you get?”

Her gaze was also sweeping over him, and she seemed to register that he didn’t have anything wrapped, either. “You first.”

He ran his hand through his hair, embarrassed to be caught out. “I, uh—”

Her eyes had widened. “You didn’t do it?”

“I don’t think I like needles?” he said. “I didn’t know that about myself until I saw all these needles, but yeah. Is there an option without the needles?”

“John Lorenzo Populin Jr.,” she said, and he winced. He hated it when anyone said his full name aloud, and she must’ve remembered that, because her face softened slightly even as she turned and left him standing there in the middle of the tattoo parlor lobby.

“Well, don’t think you’re getting to see mine, then,” she said. “Until you’ve fulfilled your side of the bargain.”

And he never had.

Steve brought him back into the present when he accidentally sloshed a bit of drink on John’s shoe. John could’ve sworn that Steve had sat down with no drink at all, so he had no idea where the brightly colored cocktail adorned with a festive umbrella and slice of pineapple on the rim had come from.

“Sorry about that, mate!” Steve said. At the height of theband’s fame, they’d played a festival in Australiaonce, and that experience had been all it took to get Steve obsessed with calling everyonemate. There was something so endearing about the fact that he still did it.

“I think rehearsal went okay,” John said. “All things considered.”

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