“It’s ‘This Charming Man.’ By The Smiths.”

“Oh.” She smiled, just a little, cheeks still pink, almost looking embarrassed. Which...Lily was a rockstar who shouldn’t be embarrassed about anything. I had a horrible, sinking feeling that I was fucking this night all up. “The Smiths are definitely too cool for me.”

I shook my head vehemently. “No! No, they’re really not. Or at least, this song isn’t; it’s only a pop song, but…” A harsh breath escaped my lips. I suddenly wished I had consumed even a tiny bit less gin.

She had shared her grandma and the fabric store with me. I could share this song with her.

“When I was a teenager, I used to lay on my bed and listen to this song for hours, literally, and feel…”

I trailed off, flailing mentally now. But Lily only looked at me. Eyes patient. Everything about her so fucking soft and strong.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what Morrissey was actually singing about in this song, and everything I’ve learned since then confirms that Morrissey is pretty much an asshole, but when I was a kid and felt...I don’t know. Like I was lonely and weird and maybe really fucking gay but maybe not? It was like his voice on this song was the only person who understood. And I really thought that maybe all boys sat in their rooms and listened to this song and secretly felt all these things, but it turned out I was...wrong.”

I was resting an elbow on the bar now, restlessly drumming fingers against the cold, smudgy counter, unable to meet Lily’s eyes and pretty much wanting to die. Lily being excited about the button aisle with her grandma had been a cute anecdote. Me trying to explain “This Charming Man” felt like the equivalent of reaching into my chest and pulling out an album of embarrassing childhood photos that you only engaged when you were really in love with someone and wanted them to see all of your most cringey parts.

But then Lily lifted a hand and trailed her fingers on my wrist, feather light and kind. My fingers stopped drumming.

“It’s a beautiful song,” she said eventually, her voice almost a whisper.

We were quiet as the performer wrapped up, Lily’s fingers still at my wrist, my heart pounding in my ears.