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Summary
“I dare you to take off your shirt, Meeks.”
The girl crumples up the slip of paper she’s just read from until it’s a small speck, then flicks it away with her thumb. It bounces down and lands near Nini’s left knee.
She picks it up and worries it between her fingers. Because, this is something worrying.
Beside her, Myki just smiles a private little smile to the rest of the cast circle that says nothing’s private at all and sips from a shot glass filled with the color of mouthwash, something Nini could find under her apartment’s sink, something that killed that girl in the musical that had Myki in a low-cut blazer and ruched pleats of plaid skirt she had shown Nini pictures from, and Nini had never thought she could find musicals sexy before she had met Myki doing one.