As soon as she started down the aisle full of CDs, Ronnie sensed that Blaze had been expecting her. She turned down the volume on the headphones, though she didn’t remove them from her ears, and turned around. Ronnie could still hear the music, something loud and angry she didn’t recognize. Blaze gathered up the CDs.
“I thought we were friends,” she started.
“We are,” Ronnie insisted. “And I’ve been looking all over for you because I didn’t want you to have the wrong idea about what went on last night.”
Blaze’s expression was icy. “You mean about asking Marcus to go for a walk with you?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Ronnie pleaded. “I didn’t ask him. I don’t know what his game was…”
“His game? His game?” Blaze threw down the headphones. “I saw the way you were staring at him! I heard what you said!”
“But I didn’t say it! I didn’t ask him to walk anywhere—”
“You tried to kiss him!”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t try to kiss him…”
Blaze took a step forward. “He told me!”
“Then he’s lying!” Ronnie snapped, holding her ground. “There’s something seriously wrong with that guy.”
“No… no… don’t even go there…”
“He lied to you. I wouldn’t kiss him. I don’t even like him. The only reason I was there was because you insisted that we go.”
For a long moment, Blaze didn’t say anything. Ronnie wondered if she was finally getting through to her.
“Whatever,” Blaze said, her tone making her meaning perfectly clear.
She pushed past Ronnie, jostling her as she headed toward the door. Ronnie watched her go, unsure whether she was hurt or angry at the way Blaze had just acted before deciding it was a bit of both. Through the window, she saw Blaze storm off.
So much for trying to make things better.
Ronnie wasn’t sure what to do next: She didn’t want to go to the beach, but she didn’t want to go home, either. She didn’t have access to a car, and she knew absolutely no one. Which meant… what? Maybe she’d end up spending the summer on some bench where she’d feed the pigeons like some of the weirder denizens of Central Park. Maybe she’d end up naming them…
At the exit, her thoughts were brought to a halt by the sudden blaring of an alarm, and she glanced over her shoulder, first in curiosity and then in confusion as she realized what was happening. There was only one way in and out of the store.
The next thing she knew, the ponytailed man was rushing toward her.
She didn’t try to run because she knew she’d done nothing wrong; when the ponytailed man asked for her bag, she saw no reason not to give it to him. Obviously, a mistake had been made, and it wasn’t until the man removed two CDs and half a dozen of the signed 45s from her tote bag that she realized she’d been right about Blaze expecting Ronnie to find her. The CDs were the ones that Blaze had been holding, and Blaze had taken down the 45s from the wall. In shock, she began to understand that Blaze had planned it all along.
Suddenly dizzy, she barely heard the manager tell her that the police were already on their way.
11
Steve
After buying the materials he needed, primarily two-by-fours and sheets of plywood, Steve and Jonah spent the morning closing off the alcove. It wasn’t pretty—his father would have been mortified—but Steve thought it would do. He knew the cottage would eventually be demolished; if anything, the land was worth more without it. The bungalow was flanked by three-story minimansions, and Steve was certain those neighbors considered the place an eyesore that depressed their own property values.
Steve hammered in a nail, hung the photograph of Ronnie and Jonah he’d removed from the alcove, and took a step back to examine his handiwork.
“What do you think?” he asked Jonah.
Jonah wrinkled his nose. “It looks like we built an ugly plywood wall and hung a picture on it. And you can’t play the piano anymore, either.”
“I know.”
Jonah tilted his head from side to side. “I think it’s crooked, too. It kind of bends in and out.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“You need glasses, Dad. And I still don’t see why you wanted to put it up in the first place.”
“Ronnie said she didn’t want to see the piano.”
“So?”
“There’s no place to hide the piano, so I put a wall up instead. Now she doesn’t have to see it.”
“Oh,” Jonah said, thinking. “You know, I really don’t like having to do homework. In fact, I don’t even like to see it piled on my desk.”