Lindsey removed a sock from Mitch that had been stuck to one of the towels. "Okay, we're alone. You can admit it."
"Wha?" asked Mitch, shivering. Water was seeping through the towels.
"Your enormous crush on Scott," Lindsey said, smiling. "What else?"
"First of all," Mitch said. "He has a crush on me, too."
"Established that," Lindsey said.
"And second, I literally just met you," Mitch said. "But we're like sisters already, so I can talk to you anyway. So, yeah, whatever, got a crush on my best friend."
"So why don't you talk to him about getting together?" asked Lindsey.
"Um, you know?" Mitch said. "I'm not really down with that right now."
"Why not?" Lindsey pressed.
"What if, like, he doesn't like me, and just because I said that we can't be friends anymore?" Mitch whined.
"I'm sorry, but have you seen the way he treats you?" asked Lindsey. "There's no doubt in my mind that he's obsessed with you. And to prove it, I'll talk him into saying whether I'm right or not."
"Alright," Mitch agreed.
"Hey guys, it's getting really late," Kevin said, closing the door behind Scott.
"Wow," Lindsey said, checking her phone, "I should get some sleep. Bye guys! I'll see you tomorrow. I'm bringing my manager, Freda. See ya." She left.
"Okay, so when we meet that manager, we need to pretend to be married," Mitch said definitely.
"Totally," Scott said. "And we can-"
"It's almost one," Kevin said. "What's going on?"
"Well, we're staying here for the night, okay?" asked Scott. "Because if you make me drive, I'll go to sleep and get into a car crash and Mitch will die and it'll be all your fault."
"Okay, okay," Kevin said. "Guest bedroom."
In the morning, Scott woke up before Mitch. He glanced beside him and smiled at the younger man, who was curled up and had pulled all of the blankets off of Scott. Scott got up and walked into the kitchen, where Kevin was making breakfast. "Morning Curvy," Scott said as he slumped down at the table. "I'm really tired."
"That's what you get for staying up until one," Kevin said, giving Scott toast.
"Do I have to eat this?" complained Scott, running a hand through his hair.
"Yes," said Kevin, looking at the clock. "We're meeting Lindsey and Freda at ten, and it's eight thirty."
They ate toast and did their hair. Mitch still wasn't up yet, and Kevin went into the room to wake him up.
But he didn't need to.
Mitch was dressed and sitting in bed propped up on pillows, reading a little leather book. When he heard Kevin enter the room, he didn't look up. "Hey there, beautiful."
"Mitch! Get up, we need to go soon," Kevin exclaimed. "Where did you get that book?"
"From you room," Mitch replied calmly, still not looking up.
"What?" Kevin cried. "That's my journal! You-"
"Yeah, I went through your stuff," Mitch said, sounding bored that Kevin hadn't figured it out sooner. "It's really cool and weird."
"Give it back!" Kevin said, angry.
"Make me," Mitch said, glancing up for the first time and locking his eyes with Kevin's darker ones. The look was one of challenge, of competition. He smiled.
"That's it," Kevin said, and reached out to grab the small Mitch.
But Mitch was ready. He hopped out of bed and stood on the other side.
Kevin proceeded to chase Mitch all over the room. When the beatboxer had finally cornered him at the far end of the room, Mitch pressed himself against the walls. Kevin reached for the journal.
"By the way," Mitch said. "The proper term is diary, Curvy."
"Journal!" exclaimed Kevin. He smushed Mitch against the wall with one arm and snatched at the journal with the other. He was sure he could win now.
"Scott! Help! Help!" Mitch cried, sounding genuinely distressed.
Kevin swore inwardly, wondering if Mitch was just acting scared.
Scott came into into the room and yanked Kevin off. "What the hell?" he yelled at the beatboxer.
"He took my journal!" exclaimed Kevin, shaking Scott's hand off his shoulder.
"Mitch?" asked Scott, waiting. It didn't matter what Kevin said, but if Mitch agreed it was true.
"What journal?" Mitch asked innocently. He had slipped the small leather book into the spacious pocket of his sweater. "Kevin, are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine," the beatboxer said, storming out of the room.
Mitch pulled out the journal. "I found Curvy's diary."
"You lied to me?" asked Scott.
"That's not lying," Mitch replied slyly, tucking the journal back into his sweater and smiling. "It's twisting the truth. Come on. I'll apologize to Kevin, then we need to meet Freda."
"Okay," Scott said.
They found Kevin writing in another notebook.
"Hey Kevin," Mitch said. "Sorry I took your journal. I put it back."
Scott looked at him. Mitch must have still had the journal in his pocket.
"But," continued Mitch. "Look at the time! We've gotta go meet Lindsey's manager!"
"Okay," Kevin said, smiling. He tucked his notebook under his arm and headed out the door. "I'll drive you guys."
When they got there, Avi and Kirstie along with Lindsey and who must have been Freda were already present.
Mitch started to get out of the car, but Scott stopped him. "I need to help you out of the car," he said. "We're married, remember."
"Yeah," Mitch giggled. He waited as Scott climbed out and gave him a hand down.
"Hi!" Kirstie called waving to them.
Mitch waved back. Then he saw Freda looking at them, so he stepped closed to Scott and rested his head on the taller man's shoulder.
"Come on, guys," Kevin said, walking past the two.
When they were finally all settled down around a table in Freda's office, the manager began to ask questions.
"So?" asked Freda. "What are your names?"
"I'm Avriel Kaplan," Avi said.
"Avriel?" repeated Freda, writing it down. "Interesting."
"Call me Avi, though," Avi added.
"My name's Kevin Olusola," Kevin said. "Yeah. O-l-u-s-o-l-a. But it's said Ol-yu-shula."
"I'm Kirstie," introduced Kirstie. "And they're Scott and Mitch."
"Okay," Freda said, writing fast. "What are you in terms of vocals?"
"I'm the bass," Avi replied. "And Kevin beatboxes."
"I'm the alto," Kirstie said.
"I am the baritone," Scott said. "And Mitch is the tenor. He has, like, the prettiest voice ever."
"Stop it!" Mitch said, smiling.
"Can you stop being business-y, Freda?" asked Lindsey.
Freda rolled her eyes. "Fine. I have all the necessary information now anyway."
"How did you meet Lindsey?" asked Avi.
"I was assigned her manager when she got a recording contract," Freda sighed. "But now we're friends. How'd you guys meet?"
"We met each other at a musical," Scott said, waving his hand between Mitch and himself. "And we were in fifth grade. Then we met Kirstie in high school and Curvy and Avi… less than a year ago."
The office was air conditioned even though it was making it freezing. Kirstie had never taken her coat off. Scott and Mitch were pressed up against one another.
"You know," Freda said, looking at the two. "It's really refreshing to see two young people who've been friends for such a long time."
"Um, we're not…" Scott began.
Lindsey took the hint, remembering last night. She whispered in Freda's ear.
The manager's face turned pink. "Oh, oh I- sorry, I didn't- that's frickin' adorable!"
"Oh, thanks," Mitch said, smiling sweetly.
Scott looked at him, wondering if he was actually blushing. Maybe it was just some sort of acting.
Kirstie, looking nonplussed, turned to Avi.
He whispered to her while the others were talking. "They're pretending to be married again to trick Freda."
"Oh," Kirstie said, nodding. "It's always so cute when they do that."
"Damn, I didn't see that coming," Freda admitted. "Well, kind of."
"Why not?" asked Kirstie, laughing. "They hold hands, like, all the time and they've got gay written all over their faces."
"I know, it's just… they're so young," Freda sighed.
"Everyone says that," Mitch complained. "It's annoying."
"When did you get married?" asked Freda.
Mitch bit his lip. He hadn't really considered stuff like that.
"September twenty-first," Scott answered. "It's hasn't been a year quite yet."
Kevin, inwardly smiling, made a mental note to congratulate Scott later. The blond had never been really good with numbers and stuff, so it was impressing.
"Why are we here?" asked Avi. "I have somewhere to be."
"Avi? Avi has somewhere to be?" Scott scoffed. "Unthinkable."
"I wanted to meet you," Freda said. "But you can go, by all means."
Avi said goodbye, then walked out.
"Do you think Avi has a date?" asked Kirstie, an expression of disbelief on her face.
"Doubt it," Kevin replied, sighing. "Poor guy; he never really gives anyone a chance. I think it's because he's scared to get too close to someone before realizing that they're not the right girl."
"Huh." Mitch shrugged. "I think he'd make a really cute waitress."
Lindsey giggled.
"What?" Kirstie looked at him. "You're not paying attention, are you?"
"Uh-uh," Mitch replied, smiling and shaking his head. "Not a bit."
Freda grinned. "Avi's never had a girlfriend?"
"Maybe once or twice…" Scott bit his lip, thinking. "No one for more than a month, I think."
"Hmmm." The manager twirled a piece of hair around her finger. "Interesting."
Kevin held up his hands quickly. "Hang on, hang on. Don't go getting any ideas."
"What? I'm not!" Freda laughed.
Mitch smiled. "Good. Cause if you touch my Avi, I'll-"
"Your Avi?" Kirstie took one look at Mitch, then giggled.
"I dunno, he seems kind of…" Mitch thought. "Like a pet, sometimes."
Kevin smirked. "If anything, you're the pet and Avi's the responsible one."
Mitch tried to look indignant, but it wasn't working because he was laughing. "Kinda true."
"So, why do you want to work with Lindsey?" asked Freda, returning to her manager form.
"Cause she's awesome!" Scott exclaimed.
"Because she's a really unique musician, and we're very unique vocalists," Kevin answered.
"I'm going with what Curvy said." Kirstie smiled, nodding.
"That's so sweet," Lindsey said, patting Kevin's head.
"I guess the meeting is over," Freda said. "Do you need anything else?"
"Not really," Kirstie replied. "Thank you!"
"Bye!" Mitch waved, getting up. "When will we see you again, Lindsey?"
"Um, we'll figure it out when we get there, okay?" the violinist replied.
Kevin shook the two's hands and Scott hugged them. "Bye y'all," the blond said.
Lindsey walked them to the door with another motive. She tripped Mitch very subtly.
Scott pulled Mitch up almost before he fell. Then he spun the tenor around, looking for a hurt of any kind. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. It's just…" Mitch glared back at Lindsey.
The violinist shrugged, her mouth an O shape.
"S'nothing," Mitch finished. "Let's go."