Mac blinked. Blake didn’t seem as bummed about it as he had the last time. Had he told them not to come?
She squeezed the handle of her cello case hard. “Oh. Well, in that case, I should probably go practice for my audition.”
He nodded, but Mac thought she detected disappointment flash across his face. “Yeah, I bet you’re stressed. What are you playing?”
Mackenzie bit her lip. “I’m debating between the first movement and the fourth of Elgar’s Concerto in E Minor. And I think I’ll do Tchaikovsky’s Pezzo capriccioso for the big finish. I don’t know, though. I’ve been second-guessing myself a lot. I did Popper’s Spinning Song for the state solo competition last year, and it’s still in good shape. Maybe I’ll do that instead.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “My mom has this friend Darlene who works at Juilliard and has an in with the admissions. If I wanted to, I suppose I could just ask her what she thought. But that seems like cheating.” The only thing worse than not getting into Juilliard, she thought, was getting in dishonestly.
“Well, Claire’s going with Popper,” he advised. “You should stick with Tchaikovsky. You’ll stand out more.”
He grimaced slightly, as if he realized that he’d said Claire’s name.
“Yeah, um, okay,” Mac said awkwardly, ready to walk back up the stairs.
Blake grabbed her arm. “Mac, wait. Stay. Please. Even just for one song.”
She was surprised at the emphasis in his voice. Her heart thudded against her chest. But she cleared her throat. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said. “Not after . . . you know. Last week.” She definitely wasn’t going to say kiss out loud.
Blake’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I was afraid you were going to say that. I totally shouldn’t have kissed you, right? You’re not . . . into me.”
“No—I mean, yes. I am.” Mac slapped her forehead. “Wait. I mean, no. You shouldn’t have kissed me, though. Claire’s my best friend, Blake. I can’t do that to her.”
He put his hands on his hips. “Wait, back up to that first part. You are into me?”
Mac lifted one shoulder. She thought that was painfully obvious.
“And if Claire wasn’t in the picture, you wouldn’t be saying this right now?”
Mac stared at her embroidered flats. She couldn’t get mixed up in this. She needed to focus on Juilliard. It was bad enough she would probably be interviewed by the police soon. It was bad enough someone probably had seen her go upstairs shortly before Nolan did. And then there were those pictures she’d posted. . . . She was going to be questioned, she knew it. Too much stuff was going on already—she couldn’t get mixed up with Blake, too.
But when she felt Blake take her hand, she didn’t pull away. His touch seemed to weaken her, her limbs suddenly feeling like noodles. He pulled her to the couch, which was soft and plush and had a crocheted afghan on it that Mac had always loved. He cupped her face in his hands and gave her a tender smile. “You are so beautiful,” he gushed. “I can’t stop thinking about you and me at the cupcake shop.”
His breath tickled her earlobe. He smelled like Ivory soap, and a little bit like sugar—the cupcake smell lingered even when he wasn’t at work. She felt light-headed.
“Me too,” she heard herself admit. But then she turned her head. “What are we doing, though? You have a girlfriend, Blake. This isn’t right.”
Blake shook his head. “I’m trying to end things. I want to be with you.”
Mac blinked hard. “You do? Why?”
“Because you’re so . . . you.” He nodded.
Mac smiled wryly. “Unfortunately.”
“That’s a good thing.” Blake sat up and took her hands. “I’ve always wanted you.”
“Then why did you kiss Claire at Disneyland?” she blurted.
For a moment, Blake looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about? Claire kissed me.”
“What?” Mackenzie said, peering at him through her glasses. “Claire said you kissed her on a ride, but that she stopped it because she had to clear it with me first.”
Blake shook his head slowly. “Um, no. We were on Pirates of the Caribbean. And I asked her if, you know, she thought you would ever go out with me.” Blake’s cheeks were red. “She said you were interested in someone else, but that she liked me—and she kissed me then and there.” He looked at Mackenzie earnestly, lifting her chin. “I never would have gone for her if I thought I had a chance with you.”
Mac’s mouth fell open. That hadn’t been what Claire told her. In fact, it had been quite the opposite. And all this time, she had hidden herself away, letting them have their space. Her blood began to boil.