He holds perfectly still. The ghosts of his eye creases are visible this close. He’ll have wrinkles there when he’s old. He watches me intently, hopefully, affectionately. The hurt isn’t visible anymore—I’ve distracted him thoroughly, at least for this moment—and I can take him in with delight.
“Friends.” His voice is like gravel, almost a whisper, more of a question.
His full attention, that brilliant laser focus, all for me. It warms me like a fire. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t fidget. His breath smells like wintergreen flavor … I want to taste it. No. I can’t think that way.
I was planning to say something. Wasn’t I? I force my eyes down from his intense gaze. Oh, and away from the lips I’m one impulsive moment from kissing. My fingers find his backpack straps, not quite touching his sides. I have to keep my arms still. No pulling or my suggestive stance will become a full-body hug. No pushing or he’ll hit the brick wall. Can I touch him at all? What can I get away with? Nothing more. Anything else would be ruined, and no one needs a repeat of yesterday. This is all I get.
I return to his eyes and melt into the pebbles. Levi. He lifts a curl, running his fingers over it with an unspoken question. He opens his tempting mouth—wintergreen again. I wonder if hisbreath always betrays the flavor of Tic Tacs in his pocket. I have to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.
“Um …” I swallow. “Can I have a Tic Tac?” That was not the plan.
He tucks the hair behind my shoulder, his calm accentuating my disarray. I hear him lift the box out of his pocket without touching me, suave as ever, eyes squarely on mine.
I release his backpack straps and reach down blindly. My hand grabs his in a jolt of electricity, and I hesitate. I hold his warm fingers around the Tic Tacs for a full second before I jerk away. It’s as good as I always thought it would be.
The nerves in my belly mix with the black wisps of fear swirling. I might be sick. I drag my eyes away from his and my body too, squeezing his Tic Tacs as I turn around. I’m instantly colder, stiffer. I rub my temples with nervous energy and try to walk normally until I’m out of sight, my heart beating wildly against my ribs. The fear doesn’t materialize into a flashback. Are they getting less frequent?
I shake my head at myself. I tried to distract him, but I’m the one who lost my mind.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Right,left, side, attitude. And pivot around. Even with the sofa wedged out of the way, I can’t fit mygrand battementcombination within the lounge without kicking the walls, so I aim diagonally toward the hallway. My biggest muscle groups have me breathing heavy, and the exertion is cathartic. I did this combination a thousand times in ballet class. With every kick I’m more in tune with my body, more hopeful, more freed from worry.
“Woah!”
I jump at Sophie’s voice.
“You almost kicked your nose! You can do the splits standing up? Like a circus acrobat?”
“Ha. Kinda.” I weave my fingers behind my back. My ballet workouts had gone undetected until now. Her near constant singing usually announces her presence. “Hi. You’re back early.”
Sophie cackles. “You look so guilty right now. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you had a boy inhere. What was that?”
“Uh. Ballet. Center work.”
“Cool. Did you see Mr. Dreamboat today?”
I confirm, gnawing on my lip.
“Well, did you get him back?”
I shrug and nod, unsure which precisely.
“Yay! Well, your hair looks obnoxiously perfect.”
I choose to ignore that. She seemed to mean it well enough. “Thanks, Sophs. For yesterday.”
“Duh. Okay, carry on with your super-secret acrobatics. I want a ballet lesson sometime.” She bounces off to her room, graciously leaving me the lounge, and I notice a Bible clutched under her arm. I close the suite door and transition topromenadeandarabesque. Quitting midway through the progression of a ballet class feels wrong, even after two years. Besides, this is the best way to burn off those Levi nerves. I can still feel that warm hand in mine.
Ayumi is here. I can’t see her face, but I feel her shaking me gently. “Wake up, Kit. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
I’m clammy and breathing raggedly, dragging myself out of the fog. My terror gives me away, but she already knows. Just a nightmare. Just another nightmare. I nod at Ayumi reassuringly. She pushes my hair back from my face and goes back to bed. She’s used to this. Poor Ayumi got the worst roommate.
I stare at the ceiling. I’m fine. I jumped out of the car at a red light. I ran faster than I’ve ever run. I heard his car door slam, but I hid inside a gas station bathroom. I got there in time. The guy at the gas station called the police. I was fine. Except I’m not fine.
The dreams never end like that. I know how that night was going to end. I just endured a vivid rendition of it again.
Why? Why do I have to live with this? It was one bad guy, one bad night, and now I’m broken forever? Please make it go away. Please take it away.
