But already, he could feel his inner metronometicking, asserting its rhythm over Ginny’s unwelcome surprise.“We’re still watching the movie, right?” “You’re late.” Caleb’svoice sounded bored.
It was framed by the backseat windowof a taxi crawling into a stop in front of him. His chin snapped up, eyeslocating Ginny’s beaming face. Finally, he was going to watch the blockbuster movieeveryone else had seen. Tonight, the notes and scales that hadhaunted him for weeks would fade into a few hours of airconditioning and the sleek Hollywood frenzy of superheroes fightingvillains. Or continued obsessing about his practical examthat afternoon when his mind temporarily went blank while playing aMozart piece.īut as usual, Caleb hadarrived at the appointed time, a slave to a built-in metronome thatmeasured out the durations of his tasks, even if he wasdeliberately taking it slow.ĭespite the humidity, heanticipated his reward.
Caleb should have lingered in the shower. He dipped a forefinger between his buttoned-downcollar and neck, and felt his flesh damp withperspiration. Instead, he was leaning on alamppost outside a convenience store, suffocating under the blanketof heavy air. It made him wish he were onthe beach this stuffy Friday night. The colorsof the sea and sky in the early morning, a harmony of graduatedshades of blue. His outfit was an ode tocalmness, from the bowtie to the turquoise shirt to the indigojeans. Thank you for respectingthe hard work of this author.Ĭover design for thisedition by Caryn Paredes-SantillanĬaleb was wearing hissky-blue bowtie with the tiny dots. If you’re reading this book, and did not purchase it, orit was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. If you would like to share this bookwith another person, please purchase an additional copy for eachrecipient. This e-book may not be re-sold orgiven away to other people. This ebook is licensed foryour personal enjoyment only. Any resemblanceto actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirelycoincidental. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products ofthe author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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