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Chapter 1
Chapter One: The Alarm Guy
The first time Maya met Luca, she was wearing a penguin onesie and a sincere expression of regret.
In her defense, the penguin onesie was for the children’s pageant rehearsal and the sincere regret was because she had put foil in the countertop toaster oven. The foil had opinions about heat. Those opinions were loud enough to trigger the arts center’s ancient fire alarm, which had opinions about everything.
Strobe lights did their little apocalyptic dance. Dancers in leg warmers evacuated like elegant flamingos. Maya barreled down the hallway with a bright red fire extinguisher that weighed as much as her dignity, flippers (sleeves) flapping. The toaster hissed a final, judgmental hiss and died. Somewhere, someone yelled, “Who did this?” which Maya couldn’t answer because her beak kept tapping her nose.
He appeared at her elbow as if conjured: dark curls under a knit beanie, a green cable-knit sweater, a calm that looked borrowed from a forest. He slung a small mixer bag over his shoulder like some gentle bard. “Alarm Guy,” someone whispered, though nobody had spoken to him yet.
“Do you need help?” he asked, and when she turned, his eyes made the question seem expansive: help with the fire, the onesie, your entire life?
“I’m a professional,” she lied, pointing the hose the wrong way. He gently rotated the nozzle.
The alarm chewed the sky. Together they silenced the toaster, the building, and eventually her mortification with powdered foam. A small crowd applauded. The penguin accepted their ovation.
“I’m Maya,” she said, “and I am sorry to every sprinkler in this place.”
“Luca,” he said, dimples surprising his cheeks. “I do sound. If the building complains, I can make it softer.”
She began to laugh, and the last of the smoke curled toward the exit like a curtain bowing.
