Page 106 of The Music of Us
“Oh, okay. I won’t bother him then.”
Phillip hummed, eyeing me with a look. “I don’t think Jake would mind seeingyou. Considering you’re responsible for his ritual.”
“What do you mean?”
Instead of replying, Phillip lifted the cup of tea to his lips and took a sip.
A long sip that just kept going on and on andon.
I had half a mind to wait. Eventually, he’d run out of tea—or have to stop to breathe. But Phillip had a large mug and thelungs of a singer, which were really quite something, because he didn’t look like he’d need to exhale anytime soon.
“Fine,” I laughed. “Have it your way. I’ll go get the answer myself,” I said airily, making my way down the hall.
When I reached the back room, I came to a full stop in the doorway, like a ballerina in a music box whose music suddenly stopped.
Jake was leaning against the back wall, holding a quarter in his hands.
He tossed it up, eyes trained on the flashing silver disc as it spun in the air and caught the light.
I followed the coin too, a memory from four years ago washing over me.
Though I hadn’t known it then, it’d been the last day Jake and I would be together. He was nervous about his US audition, so I wanted to find something to distract him.
I’d reached for the café tip jar and spilled it out, searching for the perfect coin in the pile of silver and copper. I nearly chose a shiny penny at first, until my eyes landed on something else: A state quarter with an engraved star on one side.Texas, it said on the edge, above2004.
It’d been just right: something featuring his old home, given to him by me, someone from his new home.
And when I tossed it to him, he smiled at me, bright as sunshine.
Now, I watched as this coin fell back into Jake’s hand, and he flicked his fingers, making it disappear. Had he possibly started playing with quarters because of my gift the last day we spent together?
“Coin tricks are your pre-show ritual?” I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
Jake looked up at the sound of my voice, before ducking his head slightly and exhaling a small laugh, seeming somewhat sheepish at being caught.
“Coin tricks,” he confirmed, rolling the quarter effortlessly over his knuckles.
I stared at the movement, mesmerized.
“I live for singing, but even after all these years, before the music starts, I still get nervous,” he admitted. “This helps.”
“You must do it a lot,” I observed. He deftly manipulated the silver coin without missing a beat, an unspoken confession of just how many times he’d done that move to get that good. “Do you do this before all your performances?”
“Every one.”
Somehow, it sounded like a promise.
Jake gave me a long look, then tossed me the coin, like he knew I’d catch it.
He wasn’t wrong. I’d already instinctively started moving when I saw him flick his wrist.
We could still spot each other’s tells. There were just some things you couldn’t unlearn.
I stepped through the doorway and caught the coin.
Texas.
Was this . . . ? It couldn’t be.
