“They might have darts, billiards, poker?” At Rory’s blank look, Arthur grinned. “I’ll teach you. Poker and darts, at least; I’m no great talent at billiards.” He leaned closer, and lowered his voice. “Or we can just stay in our room.”
Rory’s lips quirked up.
His smile was gone an hour later as he staggered outside to the dark promenade, swearing. “Jesus.” He leaned hard on the rail as nausea roiled through him. Far below, the ocean was deep black in the night, a roaring of wind and waves. “How does anyone stand this?”
Arthur was next to him, warm and solid and obnoxiously not even remotely sick. “Is it already that bad?”
“Yes!” Rory’s gorge rose again and he tried not to puke off the side of the boat.
Arthur winced. “Maybe breathe through your nose?” he offered weakly. “Jade’s gone to get pills.”
The ship crested and then dropped down another wave. Rory swallowed back a fresh urge to vomit. “What’s in these pills?”
“The adverts promise no morphine, cocaine, or opium, and Jade says they’re safe enough for paranormals,” said Arthur. “I think they’re made from belladonna.”
“Isn’t that poison?” The ship hit another swell. Rory groaned. “Never mind, don’t care, poison sounds grand.”
Jade arrived shortly like a pill-bearing saint, and Rory would have professed his love if she weren’t already one of his very favorite people in the world.
He turned the box over in his hands as he swallowed two down. “These are seventy-five cents for one day’sworth. That’s gonna be five bucks just in pills if I need these all week.”
Arthur blinked, looking politely confused. “But surely you’re going to let me buy medicine that stops you from vomiting?”
Rory sighed. Didn’t seem fair that the rich got to have better medicine than the poor, regardless of whether Rory had gotten lucky enough to have someone willing and able to buy the pills for him.
But the pills did help, not fully banishing the seasickness but getting it to something tolerable. It meant he was able to wander the ship with Arthur and even try learning some poker.
Arthur seemed lighter, somehow, like he’d left a weight back in New York. Jade too, both of them less guarded and laughing more easily. Rory still had his own nerves, but it was worth it, seeing the two of them happy to be going somewhere without Arthur’s family pressures and American laws.
On the third night of the trip, there was a jazz band performance for second class. Rory pulled on his suit again and tried his best to tidy his curls before following Arthur out of their cabin. The music was already audible from the stairs as they made their way down to D level, with its wide deck and public spaces like the gym and the lounge. The social hall was on the backside of the lounge, just above the big dining saloon on E.
Inside the hall, the chairs and tables had been pushed against the wall to make a dance floor in the center. Rory found a couple chairs in the corner as Arthur went to get them drinks in the lounge.
“You can dance, you know,” he said, when Arthur came back with a ginger ale for him and something a lot stronger for himself.
“What?”
Rory raised his voice to be heard over the music. “You can dance. I bet you had about a million lessons.”
“I did,” Arthur acknowledged. “And my parents should have saved their money, because it stuck as poorly as Latin.” He gestured to the dance floor. “You go ahead.”
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Rory admitted. “Where was I gonna learn to dance?”
“You sing.” Arthur raised his glass to his lips. “I’ve heard you. Your voice is wonderful.”
Oh. Rory shrugged, biting his lip to hide a smile from the compliment. “There’s music in church. Not much ofthat.” He tilted his head toward a nearby couple, where a man had dipped his girl so low her hair brushed the floor. She popped back up a moment later, laughing, skirt twirling as her partner spun her.
Arthur grinned. “I suppose we’ll leave it to Jade and Zhang, then,” and yeah, those two were right up by the band’s stage, doing the Magnolia proud.
The band wasn’t Stella’s but it was good, and Rory hadn’t seen so many live bands that he’d ever turn his nose up at one. Arthur had several dolls wander close, looking interested, but he only gave them friendly smiles, apparently genuinely content to prop up the wall with Rory. Arthur eventually left again to get drink refills, and Rory took a moment to watch, the dancers, the band, all of it. Jade was a particularly good dancer, drawing admiring looks from the fellas and some of the dolls. She wasn’t the only lady in trousers either, a reminder that this ship wasn’t American and neither were most of the people on it.
There was a gentle tap on his shoulder, then Arthur’s voice, deep and close to his ear. “You all right?”
Rory nodded. “Just kinda hitting me that I’m out of America. Three days late,” he added sheepishly.
“Sometimes change takes awhile to sink in, and that’s true even if you’re not vomiting.” Arthur leaned even closer, his breath ghosting over Rory’s ear probably a little closer than two fellas should get in public. “You can still hear the music outside. Maybe we can find something more private.”
Rory took his soda from Arthur’s hand and hastily got to his feet. He followed Arthur out to the wide deck, where couples had paired off in chairs and along the railing. One mom was tapping her toe while a baby slept on her shoulder, and a couple of kids in fancy clothes were dancing enthusiastically.
