Page 121 of Windlass

“Whatcha singing, darling?” Stormy asked.

Angie stood and winked at Stevie, which was never a good sign, and accepted the mic from Lilian with a kiss to the cheek.

“’Pussy Is God.’”

“Come again?” Ivy asked.

“That’s what she said,” said Angie. “King Princess. It’s a song. You’ll see.”

Meanwhile, Stevie perished. This was not survivable.

Angie took a look at Stevie’s face and burst into laughter. “I’m kidding. I’ll sing that for you privately.”

Stevie impersonated a supernova. “Good news, folks. We can roast marshmallows on my cheeks now.”

“‘Dirty Little Secret,’” Angie said, taking the stand. “All- American Rejects.”

Stevie didn’t stop laughing the whole time Angie performed, her hair flying, her air guitar on point, her dignity a distant memory. When she finished, out of breath and a little sweaty, Stevie gave her a high five.

“You must have been an adorably angsty teen.” Stevie lifted the hair off Angie’s neck to help cool her.

“And you, my dirty little secret, have to sing now.”

Stevie dragged Morgan by the arm up to the fireplace.

“May I suggest,” she began, hoping against hope they would take pity on the group members incapable of carrying a tune, “‘How You Remind Me’ by Nickelback?”

“So that we beg you to stop?” Angie was far too sharp for Stevie’s own good. “I just want you to know that my vote was for ‘My Heart Will Go On’ but I was overruled.”

“It’s not a duet,” said Ivy. “For what it’s worth, I wanted *NSYNC but was also overruled.”

“Why?” Stevie let the whine enter her voice full force. “We like *NSYNC. We could do *NSYNC. It keeps with the basic millennial vibe. Please?”

“We were good to you. We chose two songs.” Stormy looked up from the laptop screen, though didn’t turn it around yet to reveal the songs in question. “One for your vocal range, and the other for us. You can choose which to start with.”

“Wait a minute. You mean we have to singtwice?” Morgan said, horrified.

The others stared at them, unrelenting.

“Your options are ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’ for which you will change cowboy to cowgirl and ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’ in honor of the ridiculous amount of sapphic love I have found myself surrounded by.”

Stevie groaned, turning pleading eyes on Stormy.

“If you’re getting laid, you don’t get to argue with me as the only single member of this party. I call single privilege.”

“Is that a thing?” Stevie asked.

“You’re procrastinating,” said Angie. “Choose.”

“Morgan?” Stevie turned to her. “Your pick.”

“Fuck it.Lion King. But I get to be Simba.”

“Asshole.” Simba had a lower vocal range, which meant Stevie would have to sing the higher range and make a fool of herself.

“Let’s get this over with,” Morgan said with a glare at their rapt audience. Their friends beamed back, unperturbed.

Stevie clutched her stupid candlestick and prepared to lose her dignity. The music started. She felt unaccountably nervous. She’d hated singing in public ever since she’d been made fun of for it in the second grade, and while these people had all heard her belting tunes more times than any of them could count, this was different. Her eyes sought Angie’s instinctively. Angie nodded encouragingly, her expression gentle.This will be fun if you trust methat look said.

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