Page 1 of The Music of Us
Prologue
Star-maker and music world mogul Marie Glenn is looking to create the next hit boy band! Open auditions are being held in Los Angeles this summer in search of four talented teens. Do you have what it takes to be the world’s next big thing?
—Audition Alerts [@attn_musicians]
Incandescent.”
“Use it in a sentence,” I prompted.
Jake stroked the cat draped across his lap, glanced down at the example on the quiz card, then back up at me. Solemnly, he said, “You look incandescent today, Luciana.”
I snorted. “The card doesnotsay that.”
“You wouldn’t know unless you cheated by peeking at it,” Jake shot back as a teasing grin took over his face. “Now spell it.”
“I-n-c-a-n-d-e-s-c-e-n-t.” Confident in how hard I’d studied for the state spelling bee, I didn’t wait for Jake to confirm I was right. “Next, please.”
“Mellifluous.”
Definition: Sweet and musical. Something pleasant to hear.
My eyes flickered to the boy across from me.Like the sound of your voice.
“I did that word earlier,” I told him. “Choose another one?”
“Okay.” He adjusted his glasses and flipped through the stack of cards. “How about Lim—” A fuzzy black paw reached over and filched the card out of his hand. “Hey! Rumpelstiltskin!”
But the furry criminal had escaped.
Getting spontaneously looted byactualcat burglars was a hazard that came with studying in Mom’s cat café, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Okay, never mind that one.” Jake laughed, dimples showing. He read the next card. “Oh, this could be a good word to use in a song,” he mused to himself. “Predestination.”
“Too easy,” I replied. “Ask me something harder.”
But Jake stared down at the word for another beat. When he looked up, his warm hazel eyes glowed with curiosity. “Do you believe in fate?”
“That’s not what I meant when I said to ask me something harder,” I teased. “But maybe? I don’t know. I don’t like thinking that we can’t change our future, but maybe we’re meant for certain things.”
Like a place where we’ll instantly belong, or people we’ll instinctively bond with.
Or a thing we’re fated todo—like how Jake had been dreaming about becoming a singer and songwriter ever since I met him four years ago. Or like how I saw myself following in Mom’s footsteps by working with cats.
“Some things are just supposed to be together,” I concluded.
“Like you and this place,” Jake said with a nod, as if he read my thoughts.
“Or you and the Grammys,” I countered.
“Or you and me,” he tossed back quick and easy, like reciting a fact.
My heart fluttered treacherously, as if butterflies were behind my ribs.
He means as friends, I told myself.He has no idea about my crush on him.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said, playing it off as I fought away a blush. “You’re going to go to that big audition tomorrow, get into the band, move to LA, become a super-famous worldwide sensation, and forget all about me.”
“No way will I ever forget about you,” Jake vowed, shaking his head, his soft Southern twang coming out stronger. “You’re my best friend, Luciana. I’ll always—” His phone buzzed, cutting him off, and he frowned down at the screen. “My mom’s out front, ready to take me to the airport. Sorry.”
