"She said if I made it through her six-month ballet boot camp, she'd go out with me. So obviously, I signed up."He shrugs, all casual swagger, like this isn't the most ridiculous story ever.
"Never been the type to walk away from a challenge—especially not one that comes with a girl at the finish line. And let's be real, who's ever turned me down?"
I shoot him a look, rolling my eyes. "And did you? Survive?"
Adam smirks, lifting his burger like a trophy before taking a bite. Juice runs down his hand, and he licks it off without missing a beat.
"Hell yeah. Though it was the most embarrassing crap I've ever done to impress a girl—and easily the hardest. My thighs still haven't forgiven me. Like, respect to the guys who do that full-time, because I swear I saw my soul leave my body during week two." He washes it down with water, grinning wider.
"We went out a few times. Good while it lasted, but—"
I arch a brow. "Let me guess, you got bored?"
He chuckles, no offense taken. "Wrong, Miss Judgmental. We actually had a good run. Only stopped because she moved to D.C.—got hired as a ballet instructor for one of those fancy conservatories."
"Sure," I deadpan, setting my cup down, "she didn't flee to another state just to get away from you."
Adam barks a laugh, totally unbothered, like I just handed him a compliment instead of a jab.
"You're mean, Care." Adam says it with a grin, all playful.
"Someone's got to keep you humble," I shoot back, but his grin softens and he pokes at his burger like he's steeling himself. "Okay — serious question. What about you? Why'd you stop doing ballet? Didn't you like it?"
I pause mid-chew, press a napkin to the corner of my mouth and actually think about it for once. "No. It wasn't that I didn't like it. I loved it." My voice comes out quieter than I expect. "I liked it a lot."
"So what happened?"
I purse my lips, looking for the easiest way to say it without turning into a drama. "Let's just say... high school sucked. There were kids who weren't exactly kind. Especially to kids who didn't fit whatever stupid mold they'd decided was 'perfect.'"
"What do you mean?"
"For lack of a better phrase — I was fat back then. The other kids picked on me for wearing a leotard and tights in class; they said I looked gross, like a burrito ready to explode." I shrug, like it's a ridiculous thing even telling it now.
"What? They said that to you?"
Adam goes visibly... pissed-off-disgusted, the way someone looks when they hear something that shouldn't have happened.
"Yep. You know how vicious kids can be at that age. I got sick of being their favorite target, so I quit ballet my freshman year."
Adam's expression softens, the usual cocky edge slipping. "I bet that was hard to walk away from."
"It was. But getting picked on every day was worse. I only kept going because I had this wild obsession withThe Nutcrackersince I was five. All I wanted was to be the Sugarplum Princess. Yep, that was my big life goal."
I roll my eyes when I catch Adam smirking across the table. "We all have our phases."
He lifts his hands in mock surrender, grin widening. "Yeah, yeah, if you say so."
Adam's grin fades, and for a beat he looks genuinely pissed. "Still... I can't get over how mean kids can be in high school. Like, who raised them? If I'd been there, I'd have tackled every last one of them and told them not to mess with you." He cracks his knuckles as he says it, all sudden seriousness and bad-ass posturing.
I laugh, because the image of him storming a high school corridor is ridiculous and somehow comforting. "Don't," I say, shaking my head. "You'd get suspended and then I'd feel worse."
"Fine," he folds his arms. "But seriously — that sucks, Care."
"It did," I admit, the smile in my voice. "But it's all in the past now. And my best... former best friend, Zach—he always had my back."
"Wait—Zach? You mean the guy from earlier? Zach Westbrook?"
"Yep. That's the one."
