Say What You Want

By Halloween, Jamil and Micah were speaking again.

I knew because I found them arguing over a game in the common room, which seemed to be their preferred expression of reconciliation.

Jamil caught me looking at the fading bruise on Micah’s face.

“I apologized,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes. “For hitting him.”

“And I apologized for lying,” Micah added.

“Now he’s cheating at this.”

“Different issue.”

Things weren’t completely normal. They didn’t need to be for me to notice both of them trying.

Amara was quieter around Micah, too. When I saw them talking outside the dining hall, they stood a careful distance apart. Later, he told me they had stopped sleeping together.

I wanted to ask why.

I didn’t trust myself to hear the answer.

The Halloween party took place at the lakeside recreation grounds. Jyll had helped organize it with a student club: music on the terrace, food under a marquee, and a haunted trail through a small section of woods.

I wore black jeans over my boot, a dark sweater, and my usual hat.

“What are you?” Jamil asked.

“A man with deadlines.”

“Terrifying.”

Miyu wore a witch’s hat and glitter on her cheeks. She insisted on the haunted trail, then clung to Jamil the moment a speaker produced a creaking noise.

“I’m protecting him,” she told me.

“From oxygen?”

A volunteer stepped out from behind a tree.

She screamed directly into Jamil’s ear.

I laughed so hard I had to stop walking.

That was when I heard Micah.

I recognized his laugh before I saw him. He stood near a string of orange lights, talking to a woman in a red cape. Her hand rested on his forearm. He leaned down to hear what she said.

My good mood curdled.

They weren’t doing anything wrong. He was single. So was I.

I knew all of that while reaching for a spare monster mask hanging on a volunteer station.

“Loui,” Miyu said suspiciously.

“I’m participating.”

I put on the mask, limped around the wider path, and emerged beside the couple with a growl that came out far more convincing than intended.

The woman yelped and jumped away from him.

Micah swore, then looked down at my boot.

“Are you kidding me?”

I pulled off the mask, careful not to disturb my beanie.

“Happy Halloween.”

The woman looked between us and started laughing.

“Your friend’s committed.”

“You have no idea,” Micah said.

She waved goodbye and went to join a group by the terrace.

Micah watched her leave, then turned toward me.

“Was that necessary?”

“You looked too comfortable.”

The words came out before I could replace them with something less honest.

His expression sharpened.

“Right.”

He walked toward the terrace. I stood there holding a rubber mask, feeling childish and vaguely murderous.

Miyu took it from me when I returned.

“You could try talking.”

“What a bleak suggestion.”

“Loui.”

“I know.”

But knowing had never prevented me from making a fool of myself.

Twenty minutes later, I saw the guy behind the drinks counter write something on a napkin and slide it toward Micah. Micah smiled, pocketing it.

I abandoned my conversation with Jyll halfway through a sentence.

At the counter, I ordered a soda, then pointed at the cluster waiting at the far end.

“I think they were here first.”

The guy looked over, apologized, and moved away.

Micah stared at me.

“What?” I asked.

He glanced toward the quieter side of the terrace.

“Can we talk?”

My stomach lurched.

We stopped beside the railing, out of the main flow of people. The lake was black beyond the lights. My ankle ached, and I suddenly wished I had stayed beside Miyu.

Micah put his drink on the rail.

“If you’re jealous, say you’re jealous.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to. You just scared a woman away from me in a monster mask.”

“She laughed.”

“That isn’t the point.”

I looked down at the toe of my boot.

He exhaled, slow and frustrated.

“I’ve stopped bringing people into our room. I’ve stopped trying to kiss you. I’m doing what you asked.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me what you want.”

I opened my mouth. Nothing useful came out.

He looked away, and the hurt in that small movement was worse than anger.

“I like you,” he said. “I think you know that.”

My fingers curled around the railing.

“You like everybody.”

“No. I flirt with everybody. I don’t spend all night wondering whether everybody’s ankle hurts.”

I looked at him.

“I don’t hear somebody laugh across a room and immediately look for everybody,” he continued. “And I don’t keep getting my feelings hurt by everybody.”

I couldn’t make a joke. I couldn’t even swallow properly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

Below us, water knocked against a wooden post.

“I like you, too,” I said.

He closed his eyes for a second.

“Then why does this keep happening?”

“Because there’s something about me you don’t know.”

He looked at my hat. I went rigid.

His gaze came back to my face.

“Are you with someone?”

“No.”

“Do you want to be?”

“With you?”

“Yes, Loui. With me.”

I laughed once, helplessly, and covered my mouth.

His expression softened, but he waited.

“I’m scared,” I said. “That’s what I keep trying not to tell you.”

“Of me?”

“Of you changing your mind.”

He moved closer, then stopped when I stiffened.

“You don’t have to tell me everything tonight.”

“But you’ll want to know.”

“Probably.” His mouth twisted. “I’m not going to pretend I’m great at waiting.”

“I noticed.”

“But I can try.”

I looked at him: the fading bruise, the mouth I kept thinking about, the nervousness he wasn’t quite hiding now.

“I can’t keep doing the pretending,” I whispered.

“Neither can I.”

So I took his hand.

It was such a small thing after all the ways I had avoided him. His fingers closed around mine carefully, as though he didn’t want to startle me out of it.

“I want to be with you,” I said. “Actually with you.”

“Good.”

He smiled, and I finally understood how much I had missed being the reason for it.

When he kissed me, I didn’t retreat.

His hand stayed well below my hat.

We walked back to our friends together. Miyu looked at our joined hands and pressed both palms over her mouth.

“Don’t,” I warned her.

She nodded furiously.

Micah leaned toward me.

“How long until she explodes?”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Should we run?”

I squeezed his hand.

“For once,” I said, “I’d rather stay.”