Page 96 of The Music of Us
“Anyway, Lucy,” Aspen continued as his phone chimed for a third time, “it’s my turn next, unless you want a go.”
Leon perked up. “Yeah, you should play with us. Jake told us that one story about you and the dunk tank at the school carnival.” Reverently, he deposited a small yellow ball into my hands. “You can be on my team.”
“Why should she be onyourteam?” Jake argued, crossing his arms.
“So you’re saying you’d rather Lucy be on my team?” Phillip goaded.
Jake glared. Aspen snickered.
“Thanks for the offers, but I’m not going to be on any of your teams,” I said. “No way am I downing any of that.”
“That’s why we offer the option of doing a dare,” Leon replied solemnly.
As if.
“It’s all yours, boys.”
I moved to avoid a line of crew members moving in boom mics, then tossed the ball over to Aspen. The guys had been rehearsing so intensely, it made sense that they needed to dosomething silly to relax before the livestream. But just because I understood why they needed to clear their heads didn’t mean I understood thewaythey did.
I stepped back beside Jake to watch the game unfold. But instead of keeping his eyes on the ball, I felt the unmistakable weight of Jake’s gaze on me instead.
“You’re staring,” I announced, before I even turned around.
“Sorry,” Jake said, even though I hadn’t wanted an apology. Or even an explanation. “It’s just... you sort of look like you did when we first met.”
That’s right. I’d had my hair down and been wearing a pink dress then too. Guess Jake was feeling nostalgic.
Someone sighed next to us. Deeply.
“What he means by that, Lucy,” Leon said, rolling his eyes and inserting himself into the conversation, “is that you look pretty.”
Jake frowned. “Was that not what I said?”
“Wait, hold on.” I tilted my head quizzically toward Jake. “You—”
“Idiot!”
Jake and I started at the sudden admonishment, glancing toward Phillip.
Who was, apparently, talking to Aspen.
“Remember not to overshoot again,” Phillip warned.
“Remember not to tell me what to do,” Aspen chirped back.
“No, really, Phillip’s right, your arm’s wrong,” Leon insisted, jumping in and tugging Aspen’s elbow forward. “You’re going to throw it too far again—”
“Hey, get off!”
“Leon’s wrong too,” Phillip announced, joining his twoplay-fighting bandmates. I rolled my eyes. The scene reminded me of when we’d get a batch of kittens and they’d start a random scuffle that would end with them all piled on top of each other in the middle of the walkway. Except with kittens, I could just pick one up in my hands, tell themno, and safely deposit them in the other room. “It’s in the wrist. Here, let me show you—”
“Oh, comeon.”
The three tussled, all grabbing for the ball and not paying attention to their surroundings.
None of them noticed a crew member walking through the doorway with a tall, heavy light.
“Guys,” I cautioned, nervously watching as the light swung around. “Watch out.”
