"There are times every now and then
I forget why I'm breathing out
And why I'm breathing in
And I get so sick with the little things
I can't relax when it's happening
To know what it means
It means."
—Beating My Heart by Jon McLaughlin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

| LANCE |

"Percy!" I called as I reached the first floor, panting. "Where are you?"

"Sorry!" my little brother replied, his voice coming from the kitchen. "I didn't mean to interrupt you and your girlfriend!"

I went to the kitchen and saw him drinking a glass of water at the dining table. Sighing, I told him, "It is not what you think."

"Really?" he said with raised eyebrows. "I won't tell Mom about it, I swear!"

"We were just tickling each other and did not notice the bed was on the way. That's why we ended up in that kind of position," I explained patiently. "Do not think there is any malicious intent in it. And she is not my girlfriend."

It was true, anyway. Still, what I'd felt when Mackenzie had traced my jawline and when I'd touched her cheek didn't make any sense to me. I couldn't find any proper explanation for why I kind of liked it and why that'd been my reaction.

Perhaps it was because of the snowy weather.

Percy widened his eyes. "She's not your girlfriend? Really?"

"Yes."

"Why?" He didn't seem to believe me. "Mom said that the girl you're tutoring, Mackenzie, is your girlfriend."

My mouth twitched in annoyance, but it wasn't directed at him. "Do not believe Mom, Percy. She's living in her fantasy land, where I will have a girlfriend and get married in the future."

"But, like Mom, I want you to have a girlfriend now, too," Percy innocently said.

I went in his direction, ruffling his dark hair with a crooked grin. "Goodness! For a ten-year-old, you should not think about that kind of thing. But, yes, please don't tell Mom what you have just witnessed. We don't want to make her imagination run wilder, do we?"

"Okay. By the way, Mom said she'd go to the grocery store to buy ingredients for dinner, and that Mackenzie should eat with us."

Swallowing my nervousness, I sat beside him. "Ah, I see. I will inform her later. Anyway, do you need help with homework? How are your music lessons?"

Percy was studying at Weyral Elementary School. Its location was near City Park, while Weyral High was near Ruby Hill.

"Nah, I'm already done answering my homework, and my music lessons were great," he said, grinning. "Easy-peasy!"

I gave him a high-five. "We indeed are brothers. But if you need help with anything, do not hesitate to call me, all right?"

"Of course! By the way, are you still gonna use the music room for today?"

I shook my head. "No. You may now use it. Mackenzie and I are done for today's lesson."

"Is she beautiful?" my hyper younger brother asked all of a sudden, giving me an eager look.

I was taken aback by his question and couldn't help remembering how she'd looked when we'd ended up on the bed, when she'd softly said my name, when her hair had been all over my pillow, and when her green eyes had been gazing into mine. And her face that looked shy and sexy at the same time...

Mackenzie and I had been in the same situation before--the "rooftop incident." But I hadn't experienced any jittering feelings that time. But now...

"Lance!" Percy called for my attention.

I snapped back to reality, forced out a laugh, and told him a simple "No."

He tilted his head to the side. "Heeeeh. But you were daydreaming about her just now."

I was starting to think my sibling was born to ruin my life.

"Do you want to see her so that you can judge for yourself?" I said, ignoring his statement.

He grinned. "Sure!"

While I was ascending the stairs with Percy beside me, who was very excited to meet my accompanist, I felt antsy again. Should I say something to her about what had happened back there? Or should I just pretend that it didn't happen?

When we stood in front of my bedroom, I exhaled and put on my best poker face. I hoped it'd last long, though. As I slowly turned the knob and called her name, I saw her sleeping peacefully on my bed.

"Seriously?" I muttered.

"Oh," Percy said, staring into the room, looking a little dejected. "Guess you'll just have to introduce me to her later. Call me when she's awake, okay?"

"Certainly," I told him as he went back downstairs to go to the music room.

As I sat in my rolling chair, I couldn't help but shift my attention to Mackenzie's sleeping figure. She was on her side, facing me and hugging a pillow to her chest, her lips opened slightly. Then she shifted, now sleeping on her back, the pillow she'd been hugging falling to the floor.

I wheeled my chair to near my bed to pick the pillow up and put it back beside her. After that, I paused and gazed at Mackenzie--her chest rising and falling, steady and constant like the waves gently crashing onto the sand. I studied her face without me looking like a crackpot; she had long eyelashes, had a pimple near her right eyebrow, had slight expression lines on her forehead, and her face was now a little oily. But I still wanted to touch her soft cheeks again. Instead, I hovered my index finger near her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids. And then I remembered when I'd touched her stomach...

Seriously, all of this wasn't making any sense.

"Brandon," I heard her mumble, sleeping on her side again. I frowned as I put the pillow back to her chest, and she instantly hugged it.

I wanted to ask her who this Brandon guy was, but I had a feeling I shouldn't do it.
Then again, I should just let her sleep to avoid the incoming awkward situation for the meantime.

While waiting for Mackenzie to wake up, I decided to Google some classical pieces that I thought were suited for the competition's theme and believed she could play in the next few weeks, and make a playlist of it on Spotify. I did my best to lower my standards for her. Later, when she woke up, I'd let her choose what piece we'd play. If she didn't like any of my suggestions, then we'd search on the Internet together, or we'd ask Marcus for help tomorrow.

I must admit that the 40th Annual Denver Music Competition--High School Division's theme was kind of confusing for me--abstractly confusing.

After a few hours, while I was doing some final touches to the playlist, I heard a groan. Turning around in my rolling chair, I saw Mackenzie sit up, lacing her fingers together and raising her hands above her head, palms facing upward.

I couldn't escape this situation, so I gave her a small smile. "Good evening, Mackenzie," I began, hoping my smile didn't look uneasy at all.

When she heard my voice, her head snapped in my direction. From her stance, it seemed she fully remembered what had happened a while ago. "Lance...hey."

Then an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

I couldn't help but cough. "My mom...is currently cooking dinner." She'd arrived home thirty minutes ago, but I hadn't bothered going out of my room, because I was sure she'd tease me non-stop about Mackenzie for the nth time. "And she requested for you to eat dinner with us. Would that be all right with you?"

She was mulling her options, not looking at me in the eye, then responded, "Erm, sure."

I wanted to open up about the incident earlier, but my mouth wasn't cooperating with me. "Do you want to meet my younger brother?" was what I told her instead.

It seemed she forgot about the awkward moment, because her eyes instantly sparkled with delight. "Bring me to him. Now!"

So the two of us went to the music room. I knocked on the door and called, "Percy! The short and ugly lady has finally woken up."

The short and ugly lady glared up at me, about to pinch me on my arm, when the door suddenly opened.

And there was my younger brother, beaming at Mackenzie. "Hello, the girl whom Lance is tutoring!" he started.

I might as well inform you that they had the same height. Nya-ha-ha-ha!

"Oh, hi!" She extended her hand, grinning, and he shook it. "I'm Mackenzie Adams. You're Percy, right?"

"Yep!"

Her grin widened more, making me curious. "Is it short for 'Perseus'?"

I scowled. "Where did you get that idea?"

Mackenzie shushed me.

"Oh, no," Percy answered. "It's short for 'Percival.' In the Arthurian legend, he's one of the Knights of the Round Table and famed for fighting the Red Knight. My full name is 'Prince Percival Kale Collins.' I play the cello, saxophone, piano, and triangle," he chatted animatedly.

Mackenzie was truly impressed. "Wow! That's a lot. But I think everyone can play the triangle...?" She looked at me over her shoulder to confirm if she was right.

"Well, yes. But you must know that there is a proper way on how to play that instrument, not just striking the metal alloys with a beater anywhere you want to," I told her matter-of-factly. "And learning to play the triangle is one of the excellent ways to improve your percussion skills. Are you interested? Percy could teach you."

My brother bobbed his head enthusiastically.

"I'd love to, but I think I should concentrate on piano for now. Maybe next time."

"No prob!" Percy said.

"You look like Mrs. C, except that you have amber eyes." She whistled. "By the way, your name's cooler than your older brother's."

"Hey!" I protested.

Mackenzie smiled at me teasingly. That's when the awkwardness between us vanished in an instant. The two of us laughed out loud, and Percy joined in.

"Of course my name's cooler than his," he said, high-fiving Midgetzie.

"Quiet, you," I said, chuckling.

"Lance, you told me she's not beautiful," Percy said as we seated on the sofa in the living room, waiting for Mom to be finished with what she was cooking. Mackenzie had asked her if she needed any help, but Mom wouldn't let her and said to wait with Percy and me in the living room.

I'd given Mackenzie another can of Coke from the fridge while avoiding Mom's teasing look altogether.

"Yes, she is not," I verified.

"Wow, you're talking like I'm not here with you guys," Mackenzie murmured. Then she stared at me over her soda, looking every bit as urbane as if she was holding a glass of fine Scotch instead of a mass-marketed American soft drink. "You're not even handsome, Cocky Violinist Freak."

"Ha! Wrong, Midgetzie!"

"I think you're beautiful, Mackenzie," Percy assured her.

"Why, thank you, Percy. You're handsome yourself." She turned to me. "You should be like Percival, Lancelot--complimenting people often."

I tried to wave her off.

"And you're also nice and brainy--well, judging from how you act and talk," Percy added. "No wonder Mom wants you to end up with my brother."

Both of us widened our eyes, shocked, and Mackenzie almost sputtered the soda from her mouth.

Talk about another awkward moment.

"Eww, yuck, gross!" I screamed, terrified.

Mackenzie whacked me on the head with the empty can, then told him, "Percy, please don't say such disgusting things like that."

"But why?" he asked, ingenuous. "You two look good together, after all."

There it was again--that unexplainable feeling I was experiencing, but I willed myself to say no in my mind repeatedly.

Before Mackenzie and I could respond to that, Mom appeared from the kitchen. "Let's eat now, everyone!"

"Mother, what were you imparting in Percy's mind?" I scolded her as I seated beside her at the dining table. Mackenzie seated across from me with Percy to her right.

"I don't know what you're talking about, dear," Mom calmly said.

I rolled my eyes in defeat.

Mackenzie clearly wanted to argue with my mom, but knew better, so she concentrated on the food served on the table instead. "I was right! Chicken curry!"

Giggling, Mom said, "Ah, yes. I asked Erina what your most favorite food is. I hope the curry is to your liking."

When Mackenzie took a bite of the shredded chicken, her eyes widened and gave her a thumbs-up while munching. "Did you use coconut cream?"

"Yes, dear."

"It's thick and rich. I totally love it!"

Mom beamed at her, clearly looking pleased with her achievement.

While we were eating dinner, Mom and Percy asked Mackenzie some questions about the film industry. The "Oscar-winning actress" was delighted to answer them. Perhaps she somewhat missed her work.

I silently ate my food, sometimes stealing a glance at my accompanist while thinking about the "bedroom incident." Again. Thankfully, Mackenzie didn't seem to be aware of it. But I was starting to be annoyed with myself. I mean, why couldn't I remove that horrible scene from my mind? It wasn't healthy for my glorious brain!

When we were finished, Mackenzie gratefully said, "Thanks so much for an absolutely delicious dinner, Mrs. C. I really appreciate it."

"The pleasure is all mine, dear," Mom answered.

I was about to clear the table when Mackenzie said, "As much as I want to stay a little longer to chat with you, Mrs. C, I should go home now, since it's Monday tomorrow..."

"Of course, dear. I understand." Then she told me, "Seriously, Lance, you should learn how to drive a car, so that you can easily accompany Mackenzie home."

I grew very still.

"Oh, it's all right, Mrs. C," Mackenzie said. Her voice was composed, but I could hear the panic beneath it. "I don't want to bother Lance. I'll just take a taxi to go home."

"Nonsense!" Mom exclaimed, not noticing the tension between Mackenzie and me. "My son owes you a lot--what with requesting you to be his accompanist and all. He should keep you safe at all times. Isn't that right, Lancie?" She smiled brightly at me.

"Aha-ha-ha," I deadpanned.

"But, um--"

"I still have to do the dishes, Mother," I reminded her.

"Don't worry. Percy will do them." Mom gazed at him. "Won't you, dear?" She used her utmost authoritative voice.

Percy gulped. "Um, yeah. Whatever."

"Mackenzie," I said, and she straightened on her seat. "My mother has a point. So let me escort you home, please?"

She didn't look at me, but she sighed in defeat. "Okay."

"Please tell my regards to your parents, dear," said Mom.

Mackenzie gave her a small smile. "Sure thing, Mrs. C."

"Visit us again, Mackenzie," Percy cheerfully said.

Giggling, she replied, "Of course, Percy."

🎻 🎻 🎻

Mackenzie and I were sitting in the backseat of the taxi, not uttering a word to each other. There was a huge distance between us--literally and figuratively. She was listening to music with her EarPods while gazing out the window, feeling like she was filming for a music video, and that's when I recalled about the playlist I'd made on Spotify a while ago. I cursed in my mind why I'd forgotten it earlier.

When Mackenzie's house was two blocks away, I told the driver that this was our stop. She noticed this and plugged her EarPods out from her ears.

"Um, why did we stop?" she started.

"I have to tell you something important. But we should walk from here."

She gave me a bewildered look, but then replied, "Okay..." Mackenzie got her wallet from her white and blue clutch bag to pay the driver, but I beat her to it.

She was about to argue, but I told her, "I insist."

As we thanked the driver and got out of the taxi, I could swear I heard him mumble, "Young couples these days--so sweet of them wanting to take a nice walk under the starry night sky..."

I wanted to correct him that we weren't a couple, but he already drove away from us.

"So, what did you wanna tell me?" Mackenzie began in a hesitant voice, cold air puffing out from her mouth. Thank God it'd already stopped snowing. But even with a polo shirt underneath my sweater, I could still feel the chilly wind pressing into my skin.

And there was still a tension in the air surrounding us.

We started walking in the direction of her house, then I told her what I'd decided while she'd been sleeping, my breath pluming out in front of me. I did my best to make my voice nonchalant as possible.

Mackenzie blinked when I was done. "You sure 'bout that?"

I nodded, fished my phone from my pocket and opened Spotify. "I mean, you have a part in this, too. You all have the right to choose what our piece will be."

She was shooting me a quizzical look.

Raising an eyebrow, I questioned her, "Why are you giving me that kind of look?"

"Because..." she faltered.

"Because...?" I prompted.

"You wanna win the contest, right? Then you should be the one to choose what piece we'll play, and then I'll do my very best to practice and play it without many mistakes as possible."

It was my turn to give her a doubtful look.

"Okay," she said in a deadpan manner, "that hurt my ego."

"I do not trust myself in choosing the piece for this contest," I honestly told her. "I am not sure why. Perhaps it's because of how abstract the theme is. You even said it yourself before."

"What's the theme, again?"

"'Crossing Over.'"

Mackenzie thought about it for a moment as we continued walking at a slow pace. "If I'd be the one to choose...gods, I don't even trust myself when it comes to this kind of stuff. I mean, I'm a noob pianist. Well, still a noob pianist, anyway." She paused. "Hopefully."

"I trust you."

Mackenzie stopped in her tracks and turned to me, stupefied. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it instead.

"It's true," I continued while staring into her eyes, not backing down. "I hate to admit this, but for some unknown reason I just cannot properly connect with the theme. You are an actress --an 'Oscar-winning actress,' I might add. I believe you are empathetic, good at projecting your emotions, and have strong feelings of affection. This is easy for you."

Her gaze landed on the street. I thought I saw her cheeks reddening. "You're flattering me, you know. Fine, then. Let me hear your selections."

I handed my phone to her and she listened to the music intently.

Minutes ticked by when we reached her house. She was now listening to the sixth and last piece. We sat on the porch, then Mackenzie said, "Gods, I'm not even sure I can play any of these pieces for the contest; they're all hard!" There was a notable fear in her voice.

Just when I thought I'd successfully lowered my standards...

"But in my playlist, is there a piece that's fitted for the theme?" I asked. "Did you feel any...um, 'feels'?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Wait..." She closed her eyes to concentrate briefly.

I scowled. "Oh. Guess I failed on the selection part, then."

"It's not that you failed." Mackenzie gave me back my phone when the last classical piece finished playing. "They're all a masterpiece, but while I was listening to them...yeah, I didn't feel any crossing-over vibe from them."

I scrunched my face in thought. "This is hard."

"No kidding."

"Well, we could use my Plan B: let's search on the Internet together. Or Plan C: let's ask Marcus tomorrow in chemistry if he has any suggestions."

Then all of a sudden, her green eyes brightened. "Or Plan D: I'll ask my grandmother for advice instead. I mean, if that's okay with you."

Shrugging, I said, "Anything for the outcome of our performance." I glanced at her. "By the way, a word of encouragement, Mackenzie: Whatever the piece we will play, I am sure you will be able to perform it. Not perfectly, sure, but you can do it. You are a quick learner. I believe in your abilities."

There was still uncertainty on her face. I had to change that.

Smiling a bit, I continued, "Besides, you do not need to memorize the piece--only familiarize it, since you are just an accompanist, so you can have the piece's score with you while you play."

Mackenzie sighed. "Come what may."

"And I am your piano tutor, so that's also a huge plus points for you," I added as a joke (but it's true, anyway, whether she admits it or not).

She rolled her eyes with a smile, but then it quickly faded. "Um, Lance, I think we still have to talk about...that."

Ah, yes. The "bedroom incident."

I was debating to myself on what to tell her. "I believe it was just a spur of the moment," I said after a while, staring at the sky.

Mackenzie gave a nervous giggle. "Yeah, it was."

There was an awkward silence once again.

"By the way, you looked so horrid when you were on top of me," she said a minute later.

"And you looked so unattractive when you were below me," I shot back.

We slowly stared at each other, and couldn't help but laugh non-stop.

"It was like the 'rooftop incident' all over again," she said, still chortling.

"I call it the 'bedroom incident.'" I was talking in between gasps as I tried to catch my breath.

She placed her hands on her knees, exhaling. "Can we...can we just forget that the 'bedroom incident' ever happened?"

"And not tell about it to anyone else," I agreed. "It will be mutually beneficial for us."

"But what about Percy?"

"I already told him he would just keep it to himself," I assured her.

Closing her eyes while sighing in relief, Mackenzie told me, "There'll be no more tickle revenge, too, right?"

"So you're giving up and I am the winner of our tickle game?" I smirked.

Mackenzie frowned. "No way I'm giving up! Fine, as long as we're tickling each other and won't end up like we're having sex, then I'm good."

The two of us made a zipping motion over our lips, buttoned them, and then shook hands to seal the oath. I felt her midget hand in mine again, and recalled when I'd rubbed it when we'd been in the music room.

So soft...like Softie.

I mentally shook my head. Stop thinking about it, Lance!

"Sorry I fell asleep," Mackenzie said guiltily. "I was so tired because of the test you gave me."

"It's all right," I reassured her, even though my intuition said there was another reason behind it. "I understand."

"Well, guess I'd better head inside now," she said as she released my hand, lingering. I wasn't sure what it meant, though. We stood up. "See you tomorrow."

I nodded, smiling. "Good night, Mackenzie."

She smiled back...shyly? "Good night, Lance," she whispered.

I stepped closer to her, and Mackenzie moved near me, pulled by a seemingly invisible force.

Why is this happening again? Why is my heart thumping so fast again? Is it really because of the cold weather? You should stop now, Lance!

Mackenzie and I didn't notice that someone had opened the front door. We were startled when we heard an ehem! from beside us.

Shoot! It was Mackenzie's father!

"Mr. Adams! G-good evening!" I stuttered, my voice pitched higher than I'd intended, backing up a step from Mackenzie in surprise and feeling the blood rise to my face.

"Dad! Hi!" Mackenzie squeaked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She couldn't quite hide a look of panic.

"There's no 'good evening' when I just saw you were about to kiss my daughter," he said while glaring at me.

"Dad!" she cried. "It's not what--"

"--you think!" I continued.

"Oh, really? Get inside the house, Grace," Mr. Adams said, not bothering to look at her.

She was about to contend, but decided against it. Before going inside, she gave me an apologetic look. I just smiled back weakly in return.

Going back to the matter at hand, I told him truthfully, "I swear, Mr. Adams, I was not about to kiss your daughter" while thinking, Eww, yuck, gross!

"So you were just gazing at each other longingly like Romeo and Juliet?" he asked sarcastically.

"Um, it wasn't like that..." I faltered. Had it really looked that way, though?

Mr. Adams folded his arms across his chest. "Look here, violinist. I'm okay with you spending time with my daughter, but," his face set into a hard mask, "if you hurt her in any way..."

He didn't need to finish his sentence.

I gulped, but said, "I promise I will not hurt her in any way, Mr. Adams," without any doubts in me.

A promise means everything to me. That's why when I make one, I do my best to strongly keep it, because not only do you make that person believe--you also make them hope and trust you.

Unfortunately, there are unexpected circumstances in which the universe isn't with you and things aren't going your way, causing you to be filled with feelings of guilt and regret.

I shouldn't have made that promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Um, yeah. Hi. XD So sorry this update was long overdue once again. I was supposed to update last month, but writer's block and laziness attacked me while I was writing the middle part of the chapter.

BTW, I changed the theme of the competition—from "Letting Go" to "Crossing Over." Dunno, but it seems more abstract that way haha! The plot will pick up the pace in the next chapter. Please don't forget to vote/comment. Love you guys so much and thank you for sticking around with this story. Mwahugsss~!