I shrank back in my chair and forced myself to look away from the stage. I made the mistake of glancing across the table at Lisa, and of course Lisa was gazing at Steph with a single-minded focus, as if Steph were the answer to every question. There was a great intimacy in her expression, and my embarrassment at my own reaction changed to embarrassment at witnessing Lisa’s. I hastily looked down at the table and saw my mug of chai. I picked it up and took another sip, but it was cold by now, and the bittersweet dregs were gritty on my tongue.

—

After the open mic ended, Lisa was exultant. “You did so good,” she gushed, pulling Steph close to kiss her. Steph seemed a little self-conscious, and I wondered if it was Lisa’s praise or the public kiss that made her face pink.

Everyone was getting up now, either going to the counter to buy another drink or heading out to another show.

“Let’s go eat,” Mel said, coming around to slap Steph on the shoulder. “That was great. I didn’t know you’d finished that song.”

“Yeah, just last week. I think it works.”

A girl came up to Steph as we headed out of the café, touching her arm. “Hey, Steph Nichols,” she called. “I loved your set.”

We all turned to look at her. She was pretty, with honey-blond hair in a long ponytail pulled over one shoulder, wearing a pink-and-yellow-flowered sundress.

“Thanks,” Steph said.

“I’d love to talk to you about your songwriting,” she said, smiling, and I realized she was hitting on Steph.

“I’d love to, but I can’t stay,” Steph said, moving away from the girl. “My girlfriend and I are heading out.”

The girl’s gaze traveled over Mel, me, and Lisa, dismissing Mel and then hesitating between me and Lisa. “Oh.” She twined her fingers through the end of her ponytail and smiled again, equal parts carefree and calculated. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I come here a lot.”

Steph looked uncomfortable. “Good luck with your songwriting,” she said politely, and we continued toward the door.

As we exited the café, I heard Lisa say, “I knew it.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Steph said.

“I’m not worried,” Lisa said, sounding testy. “I just need a drink.”

“Lis—”

Lisa started to walk away, and a frustrated expression flashed across Steph’s face. She hurried to catch up with her, grabbing Lisa’s hand. I saw Lisa stiffen slightly—almost as if she wanted to pull away—but then she relented, and Mel and I followed the two of them away from the café.

—