chapter 17

Sarah was inher bedroom by the time Izzy got back to their apartment. Arabella sat on the sofa reading a hardcover book with an all-black cover. Presumably she slept, but no one had witnessed it.

“Where were you?” Arabella asked.

“The power went off in the basement. Pitch black. I got lost.”

“Nice.” Arabella turned back to her book, then looked up again. “You were fucking amazing today. I see why you’re the great Blue Lenox.”

“Thanks.”

Izzy wandered into her bedroom.

She kissed me.Her body was alive. It usually took more to get her aroused. First she decided she wanted to sleep with a woman; her body woke up as they touched. It took a while. Lillian set her on fire with one kiss. And her heart raced with a giddy feeling that made her want to throw handfuls of glitter in the air. Lillian kissed her! And yes, Lillian said that was all. They were not going to do it again, and Izzy always respected boundaries. But maybe if Lillian didn’t want to sleep with her (or didn’t want to want to sleep with her), they could talk. It had been so easy to talk to Lillian at the Neptune. For those few moments, Izzy’s worries had receded into the background. Lillian saw through Blue Lenox. Izzy tried to keep up the act—it worked on women—but Lillian’s eyes had sparkled with amusement, and her smile seemed to say, You’re cute. And Lillian hadn’t laughed when Izzy screamed in the darkness. Lillian had held her.

Sarah knocked on her door. Izzy was still standing in the middle of her room.

“Arabella said you got stuck in the soundstage basement. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice sounded like a balloon whisking upward in a breeze.

Sarah bounded over to Izzy and gave her a hug.

“We did it! We made it through the first challenge, Blue.”

Oh yes, that.

Sarah pulled back. “There’s something else. Your energy is swirling.”

“Lillian kissed me. She was in the basement, and she was looking for me.”

Sarah sat on Izzy’s bed and motioned for her to sit, but Izzy was too awake. She paced the room. “Then the lights went out.” Izzy recounted the story. “And I screamed, and she held me.”

Sarah’s expression stopped Izzy before she added, And I felt so safe, and I like that she cared about me, and I just wanted to stay in her arms forever.

“Blue.” Sarah caught Izzy’s hand as Izzy paced by. “Sit.” Sarah took Izzy’s other hand. “She’s a professional ballerina who lives in LA and is competing with us on a TV show, and she said she doesn’t want anything from you. You told me to tell you not to chase women like that. Ambitious, driven women who don’t put relationships first.” Sarah put her counselor face on, making strong eye contact. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’re wonderful, and any woman would be lucky to have you, but that doesn’t mean Lillian…”

Izzy could feel Lillian’s kiss, Lillian’s hand on her back, Lillian cupping her head. Say something… are you okay?

“What if she’s different?”

Sarah drew her into a hug.

“I don’t know her,” Sarah said in a tone that said, I totally know her. “But you might be on your way to getting your heart broken again, and I think you need to win this competition more than you let on. And I think if Lillian hurts you, Arabella’s going to drag her into the dark web, and no one is ever going to see her again.”

“My found family.” Izzy let her head rest on Sarah’s shoulders. “I love y’all.”

“Speaking of family,” Sarah said slowly. “Your mom sent you a package.”

“Can you write return to sender on it?”

“I’ll leave it on the counter.”

Izzy lay in bed for a long time staring at a print on the wall, a picture of a green field dotted with wildflowers. Even back home in the dry rangeland, they had wildflowers. And even though Izzy knew—absolutely and totally knew—Sarah was right, she kept replaying how sweet Lillian had been and how passionately Lillian had kissed her, and it felt like Sarah must have been talking about someone else.

Two days later, Izzy was standing on a wooden platform wearing a white wedding dress while one of the costumers pinned the hem. She tried to push aside memories of Lillian’s kiss. Every time she thought about it her body surged to life with eager longing. She’d remember Lillian clutching her back, and suddenly she’d be aware of her clitoris in a way she thought only horny teenagers felt. It was inconvenient to be consumed with longing. Like now. She absolutely should not be thinking about Lillian. And it wasn’t just sex that distracted her. What was Lillian doing right now? Was she having fun? Was she stressed? Had the kiss lit her body and heart the way it lit Izzy’s? Izzy rubbed a fold of tulle between her fingers. Focus. Focus. Focus.

The dress would feature in a future challenge. Bryant and his staff were using the time between the first and second rounds to prepare for things that were supposed to look spontaneous when they happened, like when Izzy pulled this dress out of a box and exclaimed in surprise like she’d never seen it before. Velveteen Crush would hit the gay-marriage note hard to keep the Allure Bridal Collection challenge on Velveteen Crush’s brand. They were not going to reinforce some out-of-date man-and-wife, honor-and-obey business.

But it was hard to stay focused on subverting the patriarchy. She hadn’t seen Lillian for two days. She’d looked for Lillian every time she came out of the greenroom, lingered at every exit in case Lillian was walking out at the same time, but their paths didn’t cross. Was Lillian avoiding her? Or just hung up in rehearsals interrupted every two minutes by someone rushing in and demanding one of them do a profile video?

Izzy fidgeted.

“You make your own costumes when you’re not on the show, right?” the costumer asked, taking a pin out from between his lips and tucking it into the fabric. “Those are some dope outfits. I know you could fix these hems up, but lucky, you got me. Hems are boring.”

Izzy could use a hem to sew and keep her mind off Lillian. She ran Velveteen Crush’s Zipper routine through her mind. They’d choreographed a synchronized homage to classic burlesque, zipping their zippered outfits up and down, teasing the audience with the promise of skin but never showing it. It was sexy and modest at the same time. It was hard to do burlesque as a unified act. They were used to each doing their own acts, but they’d all worked together on one act for Zipper Redux, adding a little of Tock’s staccato energy, Arabella’s darkness, Sarah’s playful sexiness, Axel in a dress. This was their world. They’d make it through. They had to.

Lillian had to.

Izzy had to see her.

No. She had to think about the Roosevelt Theater disintegrating while she stood on the costumer’s platform. Mold was spreading. Newts had probably invaded the drainpipes.

Bryant burst into the room, interrupting the newts clogging the Roosevelt’s drains.

“We’re going to pair up groups for some conflict scenes. Come on.”

A moment later, Izzy and the rest of Velveteen Crush were standing in one of the rehearsal spaces. The other groups were positioned around the room. Izzy looked for Lillian, but Lillian was talking to one of her dancers, her back to the room.

“We need some fight footage,” Bryant said. “Who’s got a beef with one of the other groups?”

The Great American Talent Showhad failed to cast for repressed anger. The groups looked around at each other. No one spoke.

“We’re going to have you rehearse in the same space. Get in each other’s way. Fight. Battle. Floss. Whatever drama you got. It’s good if we can make this as real as possible. Who’s going to step on your turf?”

Izzy froze at the sound of Lillian’s voice. It didn’t seem like Lillian was even paying attention, but she whirled around.

“Velveteen Crush.”

Was that because they had beef? Or was that because… she wanted to spend the afternoon play fighting with each other? Finally, Lillian looked at her, giving a little shrug and dipping her chin almost coyly. And the ceiling of the room lifted and the blue sky shone through.