I know he’s probably just trying to make me feel better, but he’s totally right. Tonight I’m a songwriter, not a performer, and the only thing that matters is how funny and clever I can be. Aside from the people in this room, nobody will ever hear me sing our lyrics. I shoot him a grateful smile, and I dive back in.
Soon Russell and I are working together like a machine, caught up in our own little world as we toss ideas back and forth and try to outdo each other. Though we’ve encouraged the rest of the group to contribute, they all keep quiet, and pretty soon I completely forget they’re here. Writing with Russell is even more fun than writing with Uncle Harrison, and the process feels so completely right that the time flies by. When I glance at my phone after we’ve finished our third song, I’m shocked to see that it’s five in the morning.
I turn around to check on the cast and find them sprawled on the floor, their heads pillowed on each other’s stomachs. Kenji and Todd are spooning, both fast asleep, and everyone else seems to be struggling to stay awake. “You guys should go home and nap,” I tell them. “Meet back here at eight?” They all nod blearily, struggle to their feet, and shamble off. When Jessa pats my shoulder on her way out and says, “Good stuff, girl,” I feel way more validated than I probably should.
Zoe comes up next to the piano. “You ready to go?”
There’s no way I’d be able to sleep right now; my mind is overflowing with ideas, and I want to get them all down before they float away. “I’m not actually that tired,” I say. “I think I might keep working. How’re you feeling, Russell?”
He rubs his eyes. “We can probably knock out one more song before I crash.”
Zoe looks disappointed. “Well, at least come outside with me for a second?”
A sliver of sunlight is starting to peek over the horizon when we step out the front door of Haydu. Even though I know everyone is up and working, it’s quiet enough that it feels like the whole campus belongs only to us. Zoe laces her fingers through mine and stands so close that our arms touch all the way up to the shoulders. The air is cool, but her skin is warm, and I hold on to her as I listen to the sounds of the birds waking up.
“You were awesome in there,” she says. “Totally in charge. It was so sexy.”
“It was?”
She turns me to face her and wraps her arms tight around my waist. “Absolutely. You’re suuuuure you don’t want to come back to the room and nap with me?”
“I should really keep working,” I say. I try to sound resigned to it, and I hope she can’t tell that I’d honestly rather be at the piano than in bed with her right now.
She sighs and makes a pouty face. “It’s no fair that Russell gets to hang out with you all night and I don’t.”
“Night’s already over. And if I don’t write, you guys will have nothing to sing.” I touch her cheek. “Get some sleep, okay? And bring me some coffee when you come back? And maybe a doughnut?”
“If you want a doughnut, you better earn it, Shepard.”
“Later,” I tell her.
She gives me a quick kiss. “Fine. Later. I definitely won’t be lying naked in your bed while you’re doing boring work, so don’t think about that. It would only be distracting.”
I smile, but my stomach is twisting uncomfortably. I want Zoe to say the perfect thing right now—that I’m a talented songwriter, that our parodies are hilarious, that my work makes her respect me and proves I belong at Allerdale. I want to go back to the way we connected earlier today. But now she’s focusing on all the wrong stuff, and it makes her seem so disappointingly normal. I know everything she does can’t be new and sparkly and endlessly fascinating, but I hate that she doesn’t surprise and delight me every time we talk anymore. I hate that I care.
She gives me a mischievous smile back, and then she turns and heads toward Ramsey, hips swinging. She doesn’t turn around, but I can tell she knows I’m watching her. She’s as beautiful and sexy as ever, but as much as I hate to admit it, I’m a little relieved to see her walking away from me.