Page 45 of The Music of Us
“I hate you,” Leon decided. “How are you so awake? Did you have your coffee yet?” He turned to look at me. “You’ll never guess how Jake takes his coffee, by the way.”
“How does he take it?” I asked politely, deciding to humor him. He was beginning to grow on me. I never had a little brother, unless you counted Rumple.
“Leon,” Jake began, “I don’t think—”
But Leon paid him no heed.
“This guy,” Leon told me, leaning in conspiringly and jabbing his thumb toward Jake, “putsmaple syrupin it.”
It felt like everyone in the room had just jumped out from behind the counter, shoutedSurprise!at me, and blew a party popper. Meanwhile, metaphorical me stood there, not knowing how to react while paper confetti rained down on my head.
In disbelief, I looked over at Jake, who stared at me, looking caught.
“Can you believe that?” Leon continued, unaware of the history between us.
“I can’t, actually,” I said, still staring at Jake. Jake made his coffee exactly how I showed him as a kid? I always thought he wasn’t a fan of it. When did he start? Or had he just never been honest with me back then?
Had he been drinking his coffee like that at the motel?
“Yeah, it’s one of his many quirks,” Leon went on, too focused on finishing his muffin to notice the silent tension he’d caused between Jake and me. “He makes some for us, sometimes, when we’re on the tour bus together. Aspen’s a big fan of it. He’s been trying to get Jake to add marshmallows.”
So, the boy band of the year was just casually going around in their tour bus drinking maple syrup in their coffee... because ofme?
“Hey,” Leon said suddenly. “There’s cats in there.”
“What?” Distracted from Jake, I glanced over to see Leon staring through the glass and into the cat room with almost childlike wonder on his face. “Did you just notice that?”
“Leon doesn’t notice anything before his coffee kicks in, except for how annoying we all are,” Jake informed me. “You’re gonna meet the real version of him anytime now.”
“It’s like a real-lifeNeko Atsume!” Leon exclaimed in delight, before backpedaling. “Not that I know what that app is. If it even is an app. Unless, of course, you find my knowledge of the cat game sweet and whimsical, in which case, I definitely know whatNeko Atsumeis.”
“We started playing when our flight to Amsterdam got delayed for five hours on our last tour,” Jake told me. “We couldn’t playPokémon Gobecause security banned the app after Aspen missed his call time by wandering off trying to catch a Frigibax and ended up walking straight into a wedding reception.”
“Aspen?” I questioned in surprise. The oldest one who had such carefully crafted interview answers and who seemed to always know what he was doing?Him?
“Yep. The daughter was a fan, though, so it worked out. And Aspen’s great at toasts. But our head of security still made us all delete the app off our phones in front of him.”
“Which is why I rebounded withNeko Atsume,” Leon explained. “It was supposed to be a fling, but I’m involved now. I’mcommitted.” He pointed at the cat room. “Can we go in?”
“Of course,” I said, before giving him a once-over. The café was empty now, but hopefully it wouldn’t be later. Just in case anyone saw Leon, he shouldn’t be wearing something so out of the ordinary. “Maybe take off the trench? It makes you stand out.”
Obligingly, Leon peeled off the tan coat, revealing his outfit underneath.
Which consisted of jeans and a graphic tee that saidSandwich Rapbeneath a cartoon, big-eyed sandwich wrap holding a microphone. And rapping, one would assume.
“Never mind,” I said. “Put the trench coat back on.”
Leon frowned and looked down at his tee, pulling at the hem so he could see it better. “What’s wrong with it? This is my fun shirt.”
“That’s true,” Jake said, playing devil’s advocate. “It is his fun shirt.” He took another long look before succumbing. “Butt-ugly, though.”
“That’s just your jealousy talking,” Leon retorted merrily, before turning back to me. “Our stylist never lets me wear it,” he admitted, shifting on his feet, where he wore one red Converse and one green one. “She says it’s ‘distracting.’”
Well, she was notwrong. Still, something about what Leon said reminded me of Jake. “Your stylist always controls what you wear?”
Leon nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of better that way. One time, I didn’t listen and picked out my own outfit for a meet and greet.” The tips of his ears turned bright pink. “The comments online were... not nice.”
Sympathy twisted inside my chest. It’s bad enough when your classmates make comments on your outfit. I couldn’timagine being bullied by strangers around the world. It made me not want Leon to cover his loud shirt up at all, despite my initial worry it’d be attention-grabbing. He shouldn’t have to feel judged here.
