* * *
Nina
I stareat my reflection in the mirror, angry that I carry so much of her in my features. The irony that the one person I want to forget is forever embedded in my DNA. They say family runs deeper than blood, and that’s true. But that doesn’t mean you can forget the genetics that makes you who you are.
My chest heaves as sweat runs down the dip in my back. I lower my chin, trying to get my breathing under control. My mother has consumed my thoughts all morning. Normally I can immerse myself in my dancing, allowing it to take me someplace else for a while. But today isn’t one of those days.
I don’t know if it’s everything with Mason’s dad or the fact that I just know I need to speak with her about the money she receives from the man that may or may not be my dad, but nothing I do seems to ease the need to answer the phone.
I can hear it ringing in my bag right now, and it enrages me.
Why?
Why does she do this?
* * *
My body screamsat me to stop, the pain rippling throughout my muscles too much to ignore. I’ve been at the studio for hours, leaving my phone to ring out every time, not nearly ready to chance looking in case it’s her.
I pull myself up on the piano—my safe spot to sit and reflect. Flipping over my phone I see I have six missed calls, all from Mase. Is it wrong that I considered it might not be my mum calling? That maybe I just needed a minute to find myself.
It’s just gone five so he’s probably already on his way to me.
I call him.
“Angel.”
“Hey. Sorry I missed your calls, I was dancing,” I tell him the half-truth.
“I know. I spoke to Logan downstairs when I couldn’t get hold of you.”
“You did?” I frown, lying back on the cool wood of the piano.
“Are you finished? I will come and get you.”
I need him, but I also want to be alone right now.
It’s funny how I spent my childhood longing for the attention of anyone who would give it to me, craving their company. Yet now I long for my quiet.
There’s safety in silence.
My mind really is all over the place right now. “It’s still light out; I think I will run this evening.” My aching body screams at my own words.
“You’re not coming to mine?”
“I need to go home at some point. I need more clothes for a start.”
“You should sell it—your apartment. Move all your things here.”
My eyes widen at his words.Is he serious?“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m serious. Keep your apartment if you want to, but bring your things over. It’s the inevitable.”
“Says who?” I laugh, letting his playfulness ground me again.
“I’m on my way to get you, Pix.”
“I—“
