Club Matrix.

Those two words have been seething in my head all day.

I’m frickin’ annoyed.

Of course Cairo always has a girlfriend. He probably can’t resist the torrent of charm they’re constantly throwing at him. He is a guy, after all. Don’t all of them think with their dicks instead of their heads?

I thought he was different, though.

He said he was a virgin. Did I read that wrong? Was he just playing it that way so I’d believe him?

Ugh!

This has put me in a really foul mood, although I guess it solves my lying to the parents thing. Like I’ll ever be taking guitar lessons with him again now that I know his real motivation.

Shit.

I’ve been fighting tears all day. None of them have fallen, but it’s been an effort.

Thankfully Chloe’s been too distracted to really notice me. She’s been in dreamland all day, and when Mads asked her about it at lunch, she just coughed and said she’s tired.

“Maybe you should slow down on all this volunteer stuff?” I suggested, ripping my whole-wheat bun in half and struggling to eat any of it.

“No way.” She shook her head. “That’s the stuff I love the most. I’d rather do that than school.”

“You need school in order to turn what you love into a career,” Maddie chided, but she immediately lost focus when Holden joined us at the table.

Chloe looked at them and then me, rolling her eyes and grinning. She’s obviously adjusting quite well to the Mads and Holden thing.

I tapped her foot under the table and murmured, “Just take care of yourself, sis.”

“Ditto.” She gave me a pointed look before glancing down at her food.

I didn’t last long after that. Instead, I left the cafeteria early and went to the gym. Zane let me join in his game of basketball and I burned off some steam with the guys, the way I always used to.

It should have made me feel better, but it didn’t.

There’s still a rock in the pit of my stomach, this aching reality that’s telling me Cairo and guitar are over. I don’t know which hurts more.

The final bell has rung and I’m due at baseball practice in a few minutes. I’m trying to psych myself up, to get ready to play my best, but it’s hard to shrug off this heavy lack of enthusiasm. I just feel sad, I guess.

Flicking open my locker, I reach in to arrange my books when an envelope drops to the floor at my feet.

With a curious frown, I rip it open and pull out three sheets of paper.

The first is a letter, the second is a music score, and the last is my crumpled lyrics.

Oh shit, they must have fallen out of my bag when I left the music room this morning. I’d only stuck them back in there the other day when Maddie was having a fit about the fact that I’m a messy slob.

“When you miss the trash can, don’t just leave it on the floor!” She threw out my balled-up song lyrics and I quickly rescued them as soon as she left the room. But I hadn’t had a chance to look at them again.

Now here they are, smoothed out and so obviously read.

The paper shakes in my hand as I try to decide what to do. The letter is from Cairo. I shouldn’t read it, but my eyes betray me before I can stop them.

Dear Max-a-million,

I found these lyrics after you left this morning.

I’m sorry about what happened. I really need to explain that, although Latifa told you some facts, she didn’t tell you the truth.

You see, the truth is right here in the lyrics you’ve written.

I tried to add some of my own, but they were all super lame. All I could do was write it out musically and add the chords in for us.

I flick to the second sheet and notice my lyrics written beneath his notes. I smile before I can stop myself, emotions swamping me as I gaze down at our creation.

I need you, Max. I need you to help me finish our song.

If you’re willing to give me a chance, meet me tomorrow morning in the music room. I’ll be waiting for you.

xx

Cai

Pressing the pages against my chest, I try and fail to still the trembling in my heart. He really is a spell caster and I’m helpless…hopeless.

I can’t deny him.

* * *

Making fists with my hands, I scurry down the quiet corridors to the practice studio. Uncle Conrad helped me out, saying he wanted to do some early morning baseball drills with me and was taking me to the batting cage before school.

Dad was stoked and agreed without a second thought while Mom shoved a granola bar in my hand and made me promise to eat it.

I’m not sure where Uncle Conrad’s going right now, but he dropped me off and waved goodbye with a little beep-beep of his horn.

And now I’m free to find Cairo…and hear his side of the story.

I’m nervous.

What if I don’t like his side?

What if he’s still taking me for a ride?

Holding my breath, I enter the room. Cairo’s bent over his guitar, perfecting the music he wrote for me yesterday. Pulling the pencil out of his mouth, he scribbles out a note and writes something new.

I wish I could read and write music the way he does.

“Hey.” I clear my throat.

He spins and gives me a relieved smile. “Hey, you.”

“So, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” His whispered words send tendrils of pleasure buzzing throughout my body.

I cross my arms to fight the heady emotion. “This better be good, Cairo. I don’t just want to be one of your girls. You may be the first guy I’ve ever kissed, but I’m not going to let you play me.”

He cringes and scrubs a hand down his face. “I don’t take girls to Club Matrix as a final test.” He sighs. “Latifa was just trying to piss you off.”

“But you do take girls there.” I look down at the floor. “You’ve had a lot of girlfriends, haven’t you?”

He cringes again and then nods. “Thing is, I like having a girlfriend because it keeps me off the market. That might sound dumb, but it protects me from all the girls who are always flirting and wanting a piece of me. I can’t walk into Club Matrix without being approached by someone who thinks I’ll want to get hot and heavy with them just because they tell me I’m sexy.” He rolls his eyes. “It drives me crazy. I go for the music, and if I already have a girl on my arm, all the other vipers leave me alone. All they ever want is to get in my pants or be seen with me because they think I’m some kind of rock star.”

“Isn’t that what you are?” I cock my eyebrow at him.

“No. I mean, I don’t want to be.”

“Well, it kind of comes with the territory, don’t you think?”

“It’s not about the fame,” he snaps. “It’s never been about that. It’s always the music. I love it, so I do it, despite the consequences.”

His words are kind of inspiring, which pisses me off. He makes it sound so easy. Just grab a girl, grab a guitar…do what you want with your life.

I huff and shake my head. “So you need a bodyguard, then? And you’ve picked me. Wow, I’m so honored.”

His eyes narrow at my sarcasm. “You know it’s not like that.”

I roll my eyes and look away from him to try and hide that he’s getting to me. “Whatever. I’m a tough tomboy. I can kick ass when I want to, so I’m the perfect choice. You’re a smart man.”

“I’m a smart man because instead of walking away from you—which believe me, could be a hell of a lot easier—I’m still trying to fight for you.” He stands up, rests his guitar against his chair, and undoes me a few seconds later when he gets into my space. His fingers are gliding over my skin again. His body is right there. His whisper is kissing my skin. “And I’ll keep fighting for you because I love being around you, talking to you, playing guitar with you…kissing you.”

One beat later his lips are on mine.

I don’t have the will to push him away so I let him kiss me.

Because I’m weak.

Because I want him.

Because there’s no potion to break this spell.