Page 42 of The Music of Us
But in my head, a voice whispered,Always.
Chapter Ten
“Go with the flow. That’s my motto. Well, that and Hakuna Matata. Except that one’s already trademarked. But yeah!” Leon Ward enthuses cheerfully, giving me a sunny smile. It’s late afternoon in the coffee shop where his manager’s arranged for us to meet, and he slumps back in his chair comfortably, his easygoing nature apparent. “I don’t see any reason to get grumpy about things.”
—What’s POPpininterview with Celeb of the Week
The next morning, I stood behind the counter at an empty Tiny Tiger, trying to get the glitching cash register to turn on, when I heard a bump at the front door that made the glass shake. I glanced up at the entrance, then did a double take.
A boy stood outside, rubbing his forehead and scowling in confusion at the glass.
Had he seriously just run into the door?
My puzzlement increased when I took in his outfit. Adark-brown fedora. Red-tinted sunglasses. A long, tan trench coat with the collar pulled all the way up to his chin. His clothes were also incredibly wrinkled. Had he slept in them?
The boy attempted to enter the café again. He succeeded in opening the door first this time, only once he got inside, he tiredly ran into a rack of shelter volunteer pamphlets.
Actually, maybe he didn’t sleep in his clothes—he looked like he hadn’t slept at all.
The stranger zigzagged his way over to the counter while I watched in indulgent fascination, like I was rooting for a little baby deer learning to walk for the first time.
“You okay?” I asked.
The boy slumped over the counter and melted against it, half asleep.
“Coffee,” he said, then paused, frowning deeply, as if he was searching for a word but having a hard time getting it to come to mind. He must’ve found it, because after a moment, he cleared his throat, and added, “Please.”
“Right.” I tapped on the chalkboard behind me. “What kind?”
“Uhhh...” I had a feeling he was squinting behind his sunglasses. “An iced caffé mocha. Triple shot. Venti size.” He paused, considering this. “With extra whipped cream. And caramel drizzle on top.”
My eyebrows went up. That was alotof caffeine. “For here or to go?”
“For here,” he said, glancing around the café, mild surprise registering on his face as he took in his surroundings. Had he actually known he walked into a place called The Tiny Tiger, or had he just followed the scent of coffee and wanderedinside? “I’ll pay after. Can I have a tab? Think I might want another one.”
Anothercaffeine monstrosity? Forget lightning; one whiff of this could bring Frankenstein’s monster to life.
Before I could question if I heard his order correctly, the boy put his head down on the counter and muttered, “Stupid early flights.” He looked up at me. “Did you know that if you want to make your flight, you’re supposed to show up to the airport two hours ahead of time?”
“I did.”
“It’s madness. Insane. Especially when your...” He trailed off for a minute like he was falling asleep. “Coworkeris a great big idiot. Haven’t heard from the guy in weeks, and he suddenly sends a text that says, ‘Get down here,’ along with a ticket for a flight that takes off obscenely early the very next morning. Who even does that?”
Wait. I looked down at the boy who slouched against the counter mumbling a long string of sentences that included the wordstupidat least four times. “Leon?”
“Oh no.” The boy stared at me before removing his sunglasses. Blearily, he rubbed the unmistakable big doe eyes I’d seen plastered on magazines and, most recently, a pretzel bag. “Can we not do the screaming thing? Let’s not do the screaming thing, please. Not before I’ve had my coffee.”
“I’m not going to scream.”
“Well, good, because it’s really early—”
“It’s nine o’clock.”
“Exactly,” he huffed, sounding grumpy and not at all like his chipper TV interviews. “And I’ve been on a flight because Jake’s,you know, beingJake, and there was, like, this really cranky baby next to me—”
“Takes one to know one,” I teased lightly, giving him a good-natured smile.
“Wha—” He paused and stared. I got the distinct impression he was scrutinizing every detail about me and cataloging them. Finally, in a tone of certainty, he announced, “Luciana.”
