Another Word forHappy
Agay Llanera
SmashwordsEdition
This book is a work offiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products ofthe author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblanceto actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirelycoincidental.
Copyright © Agay Llanera,2016
Smashwords Edition, LicenseNotes
This ebook is licensed foryour personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold orgiven away to other people. If you would like to share this bookwith another person, please purchase an additional copy for eachrecipient. If you’re reading this book, and did not purchase it, orit was not purchased for your use only, then please return toSmashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respectingthe hard work of this author.
Cover design for thisedition by Caryn Paredes-Santillan
Edited by ChrisMariano
Chapter 1:Keynote
Caleb was wearing hissky-blue bowtie with the tiny dots. His outfit was an ode tocalmness, from the bowtie to the turquoise shirt to the indigojeans. The colorsof the sea and sky in the early morning, a harmony of graduatedshades of blue.
It made him wish he were onthe beach this stuffy Friday night. Instead, he was leaning on alamppost outside a convenience store, suffocating under the blanketof heavy air. He dipped a forefinger between his buttoned-downcollar and neck, and felt his flesh damp withperspiration.
To top it off, Ginny waslate. Caleb should have lingered in the shower. Eaten a sandwichbefore leaving. Or continued obsessing about his practical examthat afternoon when his mind temporarily went blank while playing aMozart piece.
But 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.
Despite the humidity, heanticipated his reward. 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. Finally, he was going to watch the blockbuster movieeveryone else had seen.
“Cale!”
His chin snapped up, eyeslocating Ginny’s beaming face. It was framed by the backseat windowof a taxi crawling into a stop in front of him.
“Get inside,” she calledout. “Change of plans.”
“You’re late.” Caleb’svoice sounded bored. But already, he could feel his inner metronometicking, asserting its rhythm over Ginny’s unwelcome surprise.“We’re still watching the movie, right?”
“This is better.” Ginnynodded, the dyes of purple, blue and pink glinting on herchin-length hair like metallic confetti. “Infinitely better.”
For a few seconds, Calebconsidered blowing her off and watching the movie by himself. Butthe skies decided for him. Without warning, a sheet of rainunfurled, assaulting him with liquid bullets. Caleb yelped andyanked on the door handle. He scrambled into the backseat, bumpinghips with Ginny.
He made sure he wasscowling when he said, “This better be awesome, Gins.”
* * *
It was infinitelyworse.
His collar had clung to hisdamp neck like onionskin. The pineapple shake he’d ordered was moreslush than fruit. And he wanted to watch an action movie, not Ginnymaking awkward moves on Noel, their gangly blockmate who playedflute.
Like most indie cafes, thisone scrimped on light bulbs, air conditioning, and space. He andGinny had been lucky to grab an empty table—even if one of its legswobbled each time Caleb set down his glass. Patrons who arrivedlate filled the gaps between the tables, pretending that spendingthe night on their feet was no problem at all.
Each time the door swungopen, Caleb held his breath as the cigarette smoke outside streamedinto the café. He wanted to leave now and save himself the agony ofwatching Ginny chat Noel up, who looked so nervous that all someonehad to do was kick him behind the knees and everyone would beyelling Timberrr!
“Caleb?”
He flinched and looked upat a girl who had stopped by his table.
“Your name’s Caleb, right?”She smiled, dimples dotting both cheeks. “The pianist fromMusicFest?”
Even in the dimness, Calebcould see that she was pretty. Gorgeous, even. Bright eyes fringedwith thick lashes. Full lips. A rise of slender shoulders revealedin a ruffled white dress. Long wavy hair she now combed back withher fingers, leaving the top puffed like the crest of awave.
With the confident way shecarried herself, Caleb guessed that she was either a junior or asenior. And with the way people kept sneaking glances at her, Calebhad a sinking feeling everyone knew her. Everyone except him. Hestood up, towering over her.
“Hi, how’s itgoing?”
Her eyes glinted as sheheld out a hand. “Tara. I hosted Musicfest last month.” Shelaughed, a sound that reminded Caleb of the warble of harp strings.“I don’t like Taylor Swift, but when you played her song at thefestival? God, Iwas an instant convert.”
Caleb stared at her, stillnot remembering her from the annual fundraising event of theirschool’s music department. He was probably too busy being nervousabout his performance to notice the host.
She turned to hercompanion. “Drew, you were there, right? I’m sure you rememberCaleb’s performance.”
The guy named Drew didn’tacknowledge her question. Caleb watched the well-groomedmestizo smooth down hiscreaseless polo shirt as his chinito eyes flitted across theroom. They landed on the small stage in front, where a pair ofsquat speakers flanked a microphone stand.
Rolling her eyes, Taraturned to Caleb. “Are you here to share your poetry, too? We get alot of first timers on open-mic night.”
Horrified, Caleb shook hishead before gesturing to Ginny and Noel. “I’m here because ofthem.”
“Cool,” she enthused,following his line of sight. “I don’t recognize the girl with thecool hair, but I do know Noel. He’s one of our newmembers.”
“Uh, you guys want to sitdown?” He mentally clapped his hand over his mouth. Ginny wouldkill him if he gave up her seat. Why did he suck in smalltalk?
To his relief, Tara wavedhis offer away. “We need to prep a few things before the program.”She nudged her friend’s elbow. “Let’s go?”
Caleb was still reelingfrom the strange encounter when, minutes later, Ginny plopped downbeside him.
“Noel’s fourth to perform.”She snatched his pineapple shake and slurped it down.
“You mean I have to endurefour of these…what? Poetry readings? I can’t believe I’m sweatinglike a pig here instead of watching Ironman beingironic.”
“It’s calledspoken word, FYI.” Shedabbed a paper napkin on her forehead before smoothing down herhair. “And did my eyes
