arm, trying to push her way back to the ledge. He turned around and stuck both arms out like he was guarding her in a basketball game. “If you insist on yelling, do it from there.”
“If I ‘insist on yelling’? How else are we going to get down from here? You’re lucky I have theatrical training.” She placed her hands on her upper belly and made a strange but silent sort of retching motion. “I can project from the diaphragm all day long.”
“I can see the sidewalk on the other side of the street. I’m going to wait for someone to walk by, and then you can have at it.”
“Can you see anyone?”
“Not yet. In the meantime, though”—he gestured at the horizon—“you can see this.”
“Wow.” She followed his arm with her gaze. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” The sky was even more stunning than it had been a few minutes ago, giant swaths of flaming orange and hot pink streaking up from the lake.
“I can’t believe this has been here all along and I didn’t notice.” She blew out a breath, like she was disgusted with herself. “I need to get out more.”
He had just been thinking the same thing about the boat. Maybe Sawyer was right—maybe he was working too much.
“You know what? Pearl can wait for her gaming thingy.” She walked back to the bricked-in vestibule that housed the door from the stairway and slid down its wall until she was sitting on the ground. “I’m going to watch the sunset.”
“Great idea.” If Pearl could wait for her Switch, Eiko could wait for her purse.
Maya shot him a look, no doubt thrown off by his proclaiming an idea of hers “great.” He shrugged and slid down next to her. He landed in such a way that their shoulders touched. His first instinct was to move over to create some space between them, but he checked it. Let her accommodate him for once.
She did not move.
They sat in silence while he racked his brain for something to say and tried not to obsess over the spot where his arm touched hers. “So. A boy-band dude does Shakespeare in Moonflower Bay. You don’t see that every day.”
It was a stupid thing to say, not least because what he should be saying was something more along the lines of Why the hell would you tell Eiko about my plans? But his upper arm was getting all warm and tingly, and it was getting harder and harder to hold on to the idea that he was mad at her.
“To be honest, I have no idea how it’s going to go,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s a bit of a gamble. But I actually hate My Fair Lady, so at least in that sense it works out?”
He barked a laugh. That was not what he’d thought she’d been going to say. Not that he’d been expecting her to answer at all. If they were going to sit and watch the sunset, it was probably more natural for it to be like watching soccer, i.e., an activity conducted in silence. But he’d started this conversation, so he asked a follow-up question. “Then why were you planning to do My Fair Lady to begin with?”
“It’s perennially popular. A crowd-pleaser. You know, ‘The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain’? Who doesn’t love that?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it seems to me that crowd-pleasing has not generally been a huge priority for you.” He thought back to her gender-swapped Death of a Saleswoman. And to that time she’d gotten Pearl and Eiko to do Waiting for Godot-ette, which had turned out to be a wee bit too experimental for the town of Moonflower Bay.
But that was Maya. She had visions, and she didn’t rest until they were realized. There weren’t a lot of people like that in the world.
“I know. I just…” She heaved a sigh and tilted her head back so it bonked against the wall. Then she did it again. That heaviness he’d been seeing in her eyes recently was back.
“What?” he asked quietly, wanting—needing—her to finish her thought. It was all he could do not to lift his arm and float it around her shoulders.
“I really need this play to do well.” She sighed again, but it was a small, almost defeated one this time. “Like, financially.”
“Ah.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. It seemed to him that her plays were popular. Pretty much everyone in town went to them, even the weird ones.