Page 68 of Tongue-Tied

“You two are a pair.” Kael grins. “I’ll meet you near the karaoke stage.”

Austin groans, but not from the bump on his shoulder. Likely it’s because Kael talked him into showing up at Shenanigans and watching karaoke. Doubtful he’d ever participate.

But something seems different about him—outside of him staring at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

“You look good,” I tell him because it’s true. His hair and tall stature have always been striking to me, but tonight, there’s a glow to him, his cheeks rosier than usual.

“Oh, I…you…thanks.”

I grip his shoulder. “You all right?”

“Sure! I had an edible before we came.”

I huff out a laugh. “Oh, that makes sense.”

“What does?” And now I notice the glossy eyes too.

“The stuttering,” I point out.

He hitches a shoulder. “It’s just what happens when I see a hot guy.”

“Who is it?” I swing my gaze wide. “Brandon?”

“No, silly.” He giggles self-consciously. “It’s you.”

My face warms. “You should take edibles more often.”

“Maybe I will…or maybe I just feel more confident, thanks to you.”

“Well, in that case…” I grab his hand and pull him along with me. “Let’s get on that karaoke list.”

“No fucking way.” He drops my hand. “I’m not that confident.”

As we approach Kael, Angelica, and her friends, I motion toward the mic stand and machine. “I’ll sign up anyway, and if you choose not to do it, that’s cool too.”

That accomplished, we watch some of the other FU students at the mic, some of whom sound like nails on a chalkboard. But you can’t help laughing along with them.

“See, it’s not so bad.”

“It’s totally bad,” he quips.

“At least they’re having fun.”

He sighs happily. “True.”

When Kael and Angelica step up to the mic, we cheer loudly and then sing along to the refrain of the bubbly pop song.

Toward the end, I nudge him. “Okay, we’re next.”

Austin sobers. “I…I can’t. I’m afraid I’ll make a fool of myself.”

“At least we’d be doing it together,” I tease, knowing he likely won’t budge. “It’s okay. I got this.”

I clear my throat when I get up to the mic on the makeshift stage. Austin loves romantic ballads, so I’d already decided we’d sing along to one of his favorites from Adele, knowing neither of us would be able to get the notes right.

His eyes light up, hearing the beginning chords, but as soon as I belt out the first note, he cringes. “I obviously suck,” I say, then keep going, more to get him laughing than anything else.

When it seems he can’t take it anymore, he joins me at the mic, and I know the only reason he’s done so is either from the edible or to save me. Austin’s voice is nicer than mine, so I let him take the lead. Still, we stumble through it, laughing ourselves silly.

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