Page 11 of The Music of Us
Startled, I whipped around. The noise came from the actual café area. A cat hadn’t escaped, had they?
“Rumple?” I called out, pushing open the glass door. “Rumple, is that you? You know you’re not allowed in the café area.”
Besides shiny trinkets, Rumple had a thing for pilfering baked goods. It’d become a problem.
Thunk.
“I’m no health code inspector,” I continued, as I checked under the counter, “but I’m pretty sure a cat stealing the last croissant out of the case would be frowned upon.”
No cat. But then, what was—
Thethunkcame again, closer this time. From where I stood behind the counter, I realized it wasn’t coming from inside; it was coming from outside the back door, like someone was knocking on it.
But who knocked at thebackdoor? There was nothing out that way except for trash bins and a parking lot. Mom had deliveries sent to that door too, but we weren’t due for any now.
Unless whoever it was out there wasn’t asking to come in—they were trying tobreakin. Did Amber remember to lock the back door after she left?
There was a chance she didn’t.
My heart beat like a snare drum as I watched the doorknob rattle.
Quickly, I grabbed the first object within reach on the counter next to me, which happened to be a neon-pink tiger statue Mom insisted on buying from a yard sale for a quarter. Which was really twenty-five cents too much, since it was as bulky as it was mind-bogglingly hideous.
However, it wasalsoheavy enough to knock someone out.
The doorknob turned.
Good luck finding much of anything to steal in the cash register.Heaving the heavy tiger over my head, I pressed myself against the wall close to the door, where I could surprise the intruder with my attack.I hope the three dollars, sixty-three cents, and single Tic-Tac in the tip jar are worth getting concussed over.
The door swung open, but before I could bring the statue down on the intruder, I froze, staring in disbelief.
Standing in front of me was my old best friend, first crush, and pop sensation Jake Moody.
Chapter Four
At theVanity Fairluncheon, Jake Moody was seen having an intense conversation with US band manager Marie Glenn before skipping out on the event early—a habit that’s frowned upon, but not quite uncharacteristic of US’s renegade. Last year, the golden-throated rogue snuck out of the Star Ceremony... and talked bandmates Phillip, Aspen, and Leon into also slipping away and going for burgers instead.
—What’s POPpinarticle by Danica Card
Whoa.” The boy at the door considered the statue aimed at his head for the briefest of moments before slowly putting his hands up, looking infuriatingly unfazed. “I come in peace.”
“Jake?” I sputtered.
“Luciana.”
My thoughts spun around like a skipping record, chaotic and fast and full of static. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“You know, I get that a lot.” Jake’s lips curved up into a wrygrin. “But if this is how you greet customers, I see why the café’s in trouble. What happened tohello?”
I arched an eyebrow. “What happened to not breaking and entering?”
“Didn’t break. Technically haven’t entered,” he pointed out, glancing down at the toes of his boots, positioned just outside the doorway. Jake spoke in a cool, even tone, sounding unflustered despite almost getting his head bashed in. It made my fingers around the statue twitch. He noticed, his eyes drifting to my hands. “Are you going to set the disturbingly pink tiger down?”
Maybe. Maybe not. He did tell me he’d always be there for me and then ghosted me for four years, after all.
“I’m still deciding,” I replied coolly.
“All right then. Take your time. No rush.”
