Page 115 of The Music of Us
Leon, Phillip, Aspen, and I sprang out of the car as soon as Amber pulled up to the airport, and the four of us ran toward the building in a wild blur.
Spotting a set of doors, I began surging ahead, until Leon called out, “Apron!”
I skidded to a stop, whirling around. “What?”
“Apron,” he repeated, gesturing down to his waist, then pointing over at my apron I’d left on when I ran out of the café.
Ripping it off, I tossed it behind me, and Leon caught it with a grin.
I passed through the automatic doors and threw myself headfirst into the throng inside. Heart pounding, I scoured the area, looking for Jake.
My gaze darted across families rolling cartfuls of luggage and partitions set up for lines and floor-to-ceiling glass windows that served in place of outside walls.
But Jake was not there.
Moving on, I sped up and down along the security lines of travelers emptying their pockets. I tilted my head to the side, peering at their faces, before spotting a boy who stood with his back to me, wearing all black. My heart leapt.
“Jake?” I asked, getting closer, before the boy turned to me in puzzlement and I realized it was not. I backed away. “Sorry.”
Craning my neck, I peered at the row of chairs that lined the area past the metal detectors, but I didn’t see Jake there either. In a rush, the guys ran over to me.
“I don’t see Jake in any of these lines,” Phillip told me. “And we went from that end of the entrance all the way down to this exit.”
Leon huffed in frustration. “Itisjust like a music video. We have the dramatic airport chase. Background extras,” he said, gesturing at the crowd of tired and busy travelers around him, then out the window and over at me. “The sunset. The girl. But where’s theguy?”
Phillip looked around. “Maybe we should ask someone?”
“Great idea,” Aspen said sarcastically. “I’ll just stand on a chair and go, ‘Hey, has anyone seen pop star Jake Moody? US member and teenage dream?’ Sure. That’ll go over real well.”
“I didn’t mean it likethat.”
“Guys,” Leon interrupted. “Don’t start a fight in an airport,that’s all I’m asking. The bar is so low right now. Donotlimbo under it.”
“Aw, come on, we were just talking.”
Tuning them out, I turned away, lost in thought. Was I just a few minutes too late? Had Jake already made it through security and entered into an area I couldn’t reach?
Determined not to give up, I looked around again, through the moving crowd and out the tall glass windows, still searching. The final rays of daylight were filtering in through the windows, making me squint against the bright glare as I looked out.
Among the sea of cars and people, my eyes caught on one lone figure on the pavement who stood completely still—except for the way their fingers tapped out an unheard melody against the dark leg of their jeans.
Jake.
I didn’t stop to think, I just ran toward him, flying through the doors and out under the pink-and-gold-painted sky.
“Jake!” I called out. I already knew it had to be him I was running toward, but the sheet music pages tucked under his arm as I came closer still made me smile. “Jake!”
He turned at the sound of my voice, happiness and shock crossing his face. Unable to stop himself, he moved toward me even as I ran toward him, and we collided.
Loose pages of sheet music flew out of his grasp, fluttering gently in the air. For a single, solitary moment—the span of an exhale—we fell still.
We caught each other’s gaze through the white floating pages as the sheet music encircled us. It felt magical, like a scene in a snow globe. Then the white papers gently glided down to the ground, scattering at our feet.
“Lucy?” Jake laughed, as bright and warm as the sun. “What are you doing here? I was just coming back to the café—”
“Wait, you were coming back?”
“I couldn’t leave things how I did with you,” Jake said, shaking his head. “I wanted to come back and redo our last conversation. To stop relying on music for a minute and just open my mouth and say the right— Wait.” He came to a sudden stop. “You never answered whatyouwere doing here.”
