Page 24 of The Making of Mila and Blake
Absentmindedly, I touch the ends of my hair. Blake has been thinking about me, picturing me, wondering about me. . .All this time.
“The pink got old real fast,” I say in the most casual tone I can muster. “When did you get here? I didn’t notice you arrive.”
“Five minutes ago,” Blake says. He lifts his cup to his lips, but before he takes another drink, he adds, “Liv is around here somewhere.”
Of course Blake isn’t here alone. Of course his girlfriend is with him.Of course.
My eyes dart away from him and I blink straight ahead, pretending to find myself engrossed in the hurling of the beach ball from one end of the pool to the other. Blake mindlessly swings his legs beneath the water.
When I finally turn back to him, he’s studying his empty cup, rotating it around in his hand like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “So Olivia,” I say. “She goes to Belmont too?”
Blake’s finger pauses on the rim of the cup. “I only told you I didn’t get into Vanderbilt. How’d you know I go to school at Belmont?”
“I heard it through the grapevine last year.”
“So, Savannah then?” he asks with a knowing glint in his eye, and I nod sheepishly. It’s not like I was keeping tabs on him, it was just something Savannah happened to mention in passing. Blake continues, “But yeah, we both go to Belmont. I’m a double major, actually. Commercial music, obviously, but also marketing to keep my mom happy. I’m not sure if Savannah told you that.”
I shake my head. “We didn’t talk about you. Like, ever. You were out of bounds when it came to conversation topics, for obvious reasons.”
Blake suppresses a laugh. I’m sure he didn’t want to talk about me with his friends either. “There’s this student café on campus that hosts open mic nights. The Curb Café. I play there a lot, and Olivia plays drums in a band that also performs there, so. . .”
“So, you met through music,” I finish for him. Talking about Blake’s new girlfriend ices me out entirely, my mind too numb to even realize how strange this is. There are no emotions, no feelings of jealousy and hurt. Just straight-up numbness, like we’re discussing two strangers. The idea of Blake with someone other than me is too hard to even process. It doesn’t feel real. “Tell me why I’m not surprised.”
Blake shrugs and his cheeks blush with a shyness that’s unusual for him. “Come get another drink with me,” he says. Effortlessly, he pushes himself up from the pool edge. He’s only wearing swim shorts and I fight to keep my attention from dipping to the definition in his stomach and the indent of his V-lines that I can picture from memory. He offers his hand, his expression unreadable.
My hand fits perfectly into his. He pulls me to my feet, our gazes locked, and then his touch disappears as quickly as it found me. I slip my feet back into my platform wedges and follow him to the drinks table, tossing my empty beer can into the overflowing trash can that’s been provided. It’s still early, and if the amount of booze already consumed is anything to go by, I think this party might just get a little wild as the night wears on.
“Is vodka okay?” Blake asks, fetching two cups from the stack.
No. I hate vodka. “Sure,” I say.
Blake mixes up two vodka sodas and passes one to me. We cheers and drink together, silent and awkward.
“Hey, I’m back!” a sweet, high-pitched voice appears at the table beside us. Olivia squeezes into the gap between Blake and me. “Your friend Barney doesnotstop talking. I couldn’t get away from him!”
My stomach burns, twisted tight. Whether it’s the vodka or the arrival of Blake’s new girlfriend, I can’t tell. Olivia is petite and dainty, her brunette hair woven into French braids with glitter sprinkled on her roots as though she’s off to a festival, and she reaches up to adjust her glasses. I wish I looked that stylish wearing glasses. Instead, I have to suffer the daily irritation of contact lenses.
“Let me grab you a drink,” Blake says with a light squeeze of her waist. He doesn’t need to ask her liquor preferences– he already knows her well enough. “Olivia, this is Mila. You guys met last weekend outside Jefferson’s.”
Olivia takes the cup from Blake, and I notice the tattoo of a musical note on her wrist. “Hi!” she says, but her naturally big smile suddenly falters. She exchanges a confused glance with Blake. “Wait. Didn’t you say you weren’t friends?”
Yeah, that’sexactlywhat Blake said last weekend. I take another swig of the gross vodka soda and raise my brows expectantly at him. I can’t wait to see how he explains this one.
Blake shuffles ever so slightly closer to Olivia, his hand moving to the small of her back. He forces a laugh. “Ah, yeah. We hadn’t talked in a few years, but we’re cool now, right?”
“Yeah. I was just about to ask how Bailey is after his accident,” I lie, and there’s something very, very wrong about the way we are hiding the truth from Olivia. She has no idea that Blake and I dated, but what’s the point of bringing it up? Blake and I haveformed some kind of peace treaty this past week. “How is he, Blake?”
“Getting better,” he answers.
“Oh, you said it was awful!” Olivia gasps with genuine concern. She rests her hand on Blake’s arm and looks at me from behind her glasses with wide eyes. “Blake had to rush poor Bailey to the clinic while he was pouring buckets of blood! Talk about multitasking! But he got him there in time.”
I fix Blake with an icy stare. I can’t be around the two of them any longer, not when Olivia is so oblivious and naive, not when Blake is straight-up lying to her. Guilt flickers across his taut expression.
“I’m going back to sit by the pool,” I say, twisting around and striding across the lawn without a backward glance. I can’t deal with Blake right now.
I settle back into my spot on the pool’s edge beneath the glow of the lights. More people have gotten into the water and all of the commotion creates waves that splash against my bare legs. Tori is nowhere to be found, however, and I study the party unfolding around me. Savannah has words with Myles, her hands flapping in distress while her brother dismissively rolls his eyes. The rear door of the house is wide open, so I know exactly what that argument is about.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Blake and Olivia get comfortable on the same lounger together, wrapped up in banter with Barney. Olivia sits with her hand on Blake’s thigh and I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches. Simply talking about Olivia didn’t stir up any emotion in me, butseeingher with Blake. . . The way they bounce off one another’s laughter, the way they catch each other’s gaze, the way they constantly touch one another. . . Seeing her with Blake hurts like a goddamn bitch.
