Chapter Three
You’re just another
Familiar stranger, ghostly specter
Full of near misses forever
—US Lyric Bot [@HourlyUs]
Welcome back to your favorite Somerset station, LUVR FM,” the local DJ boomed over my phone’s radio app. “Here’s a request from Sandra: ‘Familiar Stranger’ by the Usual Suspects.”
“Ugh, again?” Amber exclaimed from where she sat cross-legged on the café floor. “Someone’s allowed to request the same song three times in one hour?”
“That’s a pretty sad ballad; Sandra must really be going through it tonight,” I mused, before raising my half-stale apple fritter toward the window in a donut toast. “Hope things get better for you, Sandy, whoever you are.”
“Wow, you get really into this.”
I shrugged, finishing the snack I’d raided from the café’s leftovers. “I like listening to what songs people request.”
It was nearly like hearing confessions. Music’s personal, like a treasure map to someone’s soul. If you listened hard enough, you could hear what people were too scared to say aloud.
“Well, I’m sick of this one,” Amber muttered. “She should’ve requested ‘Lovely, Aren’t Ya’ instead.”
Making a face, I dangled a purple mouse in front of Skittles, an orange tabby. “I’m glad she didn’t.”
Amber rolled her eyes. “What is your problem with that song? It’s a great love song.”
It was. It also had Jake’s fingerprints all over it. When it first released, I’d known he composed it from the first fifteen seconds alone. Musicians couldn’t help but let their soul sink into their work.
I just didn’t want to hear what that particular song said.
“It’s overrated,” I stated. Lies were easier to tell someone than true feelings. Besides, Amber didn’t know about my history with Jake. “Last week, I had to listen to it at the dentist’s while getting a cavity filled.”
It definitely made the list of Top Ten Weirdest Times I’ve Heard My Ex-Crush Sing About His Ex-Girlfriend.
“I can’t believe Livie broke up with Jake after he wrote ‘Lovely, Aren’t Ya’ for her,” Amber continued, shaking her head as she talked about the reality TV darling. “I still remember when they publicly split at the Stream It Awards.”
“She slapped him in front of at least thirty-nine cameras,” I commented, trying to keep my voice as neutral as an evening news anchor.
In reality, I’d been anything but impassive. I played the viral clip over and over, not believing that the guy grinning cockily at the screen as he rubbed his stinging cheek was the same one who’d sat here in the café and cried after reading Charlotte’s Web for the first time.
Amber gave me a funny look. “Why do you bring up the breakup slap every time I mention the band? It’s like you have a personal beef with Jake or something.”
“I don’t.”
Skittles stole the mouse out of my hands, then sent me a look that said, I can see through your lies.
Shut up, Skittles.
“It’s not like I care,” I protested.
Leaning down, I picked up the mouse again and threw it. The stuffed toy flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall and ricocheting right off the sign that said “Remember to be gentle.”
The squeaker inside let out a startled-sounding Eek!
“Right,” Amber said dryly as four felines descended upon the unfortunate stuffed mouse. “Because that was a totally normal reaction.”
Yep, completely, 100 percent normal. Especially if you considered everything that happened between us.
“Come on, Jake can’t really be that bad, or else his bandmates wouldn’t be such good friends with him,” Amber wheedled, apparently on a Make Lucy Like Moody mission.
“He’s not even my favorite. Phillip is. Or maybe Aspen.
But even I have to admit Jake’s got the best voice out of the band.
He sounds otherworldly! His voice is pure magic, like .
. .” She searched for the right words. “Like . . .”
“Like some kind of siren, calling you to him,” I finished.
It’s true, and I’d thought those same words the first day I met him. New persona or not, Jake was born to sing.
“Exactly,” Amber agreed with a nod, pleased I had something positive to say. “I wonder how his voice sounds live, in person.”
“Better.”
“Oh?” Amber asked, curiosity piqued. “You’ve been to an US concert?”
“Something like that.” Jake used to sing on his apartment building’s fire escape, with a guitar over his knee, his voice all velvety and sweet as he moved his fingers across the strings. “Can we change the subject?”
“Sure,” Amber agreed easily. “We can talk about how you’re obviously not telling your mom how the café’s actually doing.”
I gave my friend a scowl with no real heat behind it. “Well played.”
“You gave up your paycheck too. Aren’t you supposed to be saving that for college? Like, doesn’t your scholarship not cover books and stuff?”
“Please don’t talk to me about college either,” I begged. Once, it felt exciting to be moving on to something I wanted. Now?
Now it only made me worry about everything I was leaving behind.
“Okay,” Amber relented, with raised eyebrows. “But I still don’t get why you don’t just tell your mom we’re not getting any customers.”
“Because she’s been through so much. I don’t want her to worry,” I argued.
Hiding my face from Amber, I bent down to say hello to Bunny, our three-legged rescue, who hopped over to me.
I stroked her snowy-white fur. Where would she have gone if we weren’t here to take care of her until she found her home?
“Mom can’t lose faith in me, not when I promised I could be here for her while she’s down.
I have to make sure this place stays open.
But it’s okay,” I added brightly, “I’ve got a plan. ”
“Oh, you’ve got a plan?” Amber asked skeptically. “Does it involve the words Feline Crime Ring?”
“No.” I mock-glared at her. “It’s called Get More Foot Traffic So Mom Never Has to Find Out About This.”
Amber gave me a flat look. “I think I liked it better when your plan had Dickens vibes.”
“I’m serious,” I argued. “I just need to figure out how to get new customers.”
“Well, I don’t have any ideas,” Amber said before cocking her head to the side in thought. “Unless you get a celebrity endorsement. But none of us know a celebrity.”
I stared at her for one long, drawn-out moment. “Right.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Amber mused. “Stars promote products and charities all the time. It only takes a couple seconds to share a link, and most celebs have a publicity person or assistant post it for them anyway, so it’s, like”—she waved her fingers—“zero effort.”
Zero effort. Would it really be bad to ask someone for a favor if it took less than a minute out of their day?
“The only problem would be finding a celebrity who’s a big name and who likes cats,” Amber continued, not noticing the way I glanced toward Mom’s successful adoption board, where a younger, nearly unrecognizable version of Jake could be seen in the background of several photos.
“Or, I guess that’s not the only problem,” Amber realized with a sigh.
“You’d have to actually get a star’s attention, and it’s not like either of us are just sitting here with access to a celebrity’s personal email. ”
jakesings@
Jake still had a soft spot for animals. That, at least, hadn’t seemed to change. Behind-the-scenes photos of an US music video shot in Hawaii showed him lounging on the grass, befriending the local stray cats.
I leaned my head back and stared at the jungle canopy above me. I wasn’t seriously considering contacting Jake, was I?
But it wasn’t like I’d have to see him, or that he’d even have to talk to me if he didn’t want to.
Besides, Jake used to practically live here. Surely, he still had some fondness for the café, even if his feelings toward me were different. He had no reason not to help. I was the one who held a grudge due to how he’d pulled a disappearing act like a rabbit in a magic show.
A handful of seconds, a couple taps on a screen, and a name-drop.
Then fans would want to visit a place that the Jake Moody promoted.
The café would survive until things got better in the fall.
We could have enough money to hire staff and Mom could take over again.
She’d never have to know how bad things had gotten this summer.
I could go off to college knowing this place would be safe.
Then Jake and I could go back to not acknowledging each other. Simple.
It could be the answer to everything.
Plus, he’s the one who said he’d always be there for me.
Jake didn’t mean it, obviously. Everything that happened between us afterward was proof of that. But he’d said it in the first place.
Bubbles, a calico, padded over.
“I should just do it,” I said, turning to her for confirmation. “Right?”
She blinked at me.
“Consulting the cats on your life choices again?” Amber asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe. Can’t be worse than any other life hack we’ve tried.”
“Touché.” Amber shuddered. “I still remember the pumpkin hack. I got grounded for a month after that explosion.”
I clicked on my cat café email, carefully typing in Jake’s address. Back when we were friends, I was the first person he let hear the songs he wrote. It always made my heart skip a beat to get an mp3 file sent only to me, knowing the music was all mine for the moment.
But after Jake left, he never emailed me again. I never wrote him either. It seemed a bit pointless considering he never returned my texts. I heard his silence loud and clear—I didn’t need to be ignored on another platform.
Still, I hadn’t forgotten the email address that used to make me smile in giddy anticipation the second I saw it in my inbox.
But what should I say?
Maybe, since it was for the café, I could sound mature and businesslike, like I did in my scholarship application essays. I was eighteen now, not some stupid fourteen-year-old with a crush. I could be cool and detached.
To: jakesings@
From: lmelrose@
Subject: From your former friend
Dear Jacob,