Page 74 of Never Been Shipped

She looked genuinely alarmed. “No, don’t do that. It’s thecontrast, the surprise of it. I like seeing you this way because I feel like I don’t often get the chance.”

He could understand that, because it was part of what took his breath away now, seeing her in that full gown. And then she turned around, and he saw that it was backless all the way down, showing off her smooth skin, the delicate curve of her spine down to where the fabric draped right at the top of her ass.

“Everything okay?” she asked, which was his only sign that he must’ve groaned out loud.

“Yeah,” he said, then remembered the box he was holding in his hand. “I, uh, got you something.”

Her eyes lit up. “You did?”

He opened the box to show her the corsage nested inside, a simple pink rose surrounded by a few smaller white flowers and some sprigs of greenery. He’d had his heart set on a peony, but he supposed he was lucky they could do anything at all on a cruise ship where they couldn’t just have any flowers they wanted sent at a moment’s notice.

“It’s supposed to go on your wrist,” he said. “But I know that’ll be hard to play with, so you don’t have to actually wear it. I just wanted you to have it.”

“Pink,” she said, touching the petals of the rose gently, almost reverently. “My favorite. Help me pin it in my hair?”

He had no idea how to do that, but she sat in front of the vanity mirror, positioning the rose at her temple and holding it in place while he grabbed a few bobby pins from where she indicated. When she was done, it looked like she’d planned it as part of her outfit all along, sweeping one side of her hair off her face while the other side fell in soft waves past her shoulders.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Thank you. I feel like I should’ve gotten you something.”

“Nah.”

She rifled through her makeup bag until she came up with a short black pencil. “I could do your eyeliner? I mostly use the liquid stuff now, so this has never even been used—see, it still has the little plastic on it—so no risk of an eye infection, I promise.”

“Sure,” he said. “Go for it.”

He sat down on the edge of her bed, and she spun on the stool so she could face him, scooting closer when she was too far to get a good angle. At one point, she braced her hand against his thigh, leaning in until he could see the shadow between her breasts, could smell that rose in her hair. He drew in a ragged breath, and she paused, her fingers still pressing against his brow.

“Almost done,” she said. “You have such pretty eyes.”

“Yeah?”

“You have verykindeyes,” she said. “It was one of the first things I noticed about you. Why do you think I felt bold enough to just talk to you out of the blue like that? I could tell you wouldn’t be one of those boys who laughed in my face or mademe feel weird or made me feel silly. I could tell you’d be easy to talk to, and I wondered what you’d have to say. You were always reading or using homeroom to actually do your assignments, which waswildto me.”

It had been hard for him to concentrate at home. Even when nothing had been happening, he’d always felt like he had to stay vigilant. It had made him grateful for any time he could get to himself in class or on the bus, not wanting to waste those precious moments of quiet.

“Look up and to the left,” she said, going back in to continue her work. It felt strange, that slight pressure, but he was determined to be good for her and sit still. He followed every direction she gave him, until eventually she told him to close his eyes. He felt the soft pencil tip sweeping once more along his lash line, and then she blew gently on his eyelids.

“There,” she said.

He leaned over her to get a better view of himself in the mirror behind her, but then he used the excuse to press a kiss to her hair, careful not to disturb the rose. “Perfect.”

She reached down to unroll his left shirt cuff a bit, smoothing it into a clean line before folding it back up until it matched his right one better. “Nowit’s perfect,” she said, and smiled. “Let me finish my own makeup and get my boots on and then I’ll be ready to go.”

Chapter

Thirty-Two

The majority ofprom was handled by a DJ—not a member of the Silver Cuties this time, since they’d played a short set to start the night off, but someone else who understood the assignment to play all nostalgic songs of that era, especially ones that had been featured on the show or that were good to dance to.

Micah would’ve loved to dance with John, to enjoy the prom just like they’d discussed last night. But she was conscious that even in this area that had been turned into a makeshift backstage, they were still visible, and there were already people snapping not-so-stealthy pictures of the two of them in their outfits. She tried to sip her water, pretending she didn’t notice, while John kept picking up one of the acoustics and strumming it before seeming to remember that he wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the music anyway, and then setting it back down.

The sign that they were about to go on came when the techs came to grab the guitars and set them up on the stage, together with two stools and the microphones. Micah felt almostpreternaturally calm, but she could tell that John was nervous. Finally she went over to him and gave him a brief hug from behind, pictures be damned.

“It’ll be okay,” she said. “It’ll be great.”

He reached up to touch her hand, a ghost of a touch as she’d already started to pull away. But then they got the signal that it was time to take the stage. He was supposed to enter first—as silly as it had seemed to her at times, she’d always been the last one onstage, because it inevitably built the anticipation and got the crowd to scream even louder. But she wanted to go together, and so she walked up with him, until she felt the heat of his hand against the bare skin of her lower back.

They took their seats, and Micah lifted the acoustic guitar where it had been set up next to her, settling the strap around her and grabbing the pick that had been stuck between the strings.You Rock My Worldthis one said, and she glanced over at John just in time to see a smile pinch the corner of his mouth before he got set with his own guitar.

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