“You’re insufferable.” She scoffs. “Can I please have the T-shirt, asshole?” She extends her arm outward and gestures impatiently.
“Always such a brat.” I throw the shirt towards her, and she catches it before pulling it over her head. “You know, now that I’ve been traded, you’re gonna have to get yourself a Stallions shirt.”
“I’m pretty loyal to New York, and I don’t see that changing any time soon,” she says. “What time do you leave tomorrow?”
“Early.”
“Hmm,” she hums, running her hand through her hair.
“Don’t tell me after months of not liking me, you’re gonna miss me.”
“Ha! Your dick? Yes. But you? Not a chance.” She shakes her head. “Call me if you’re ever backin New York,” she says, walking towards her door.
“Kicking me out already?”
Her eyes flit to the clock on the microwave. “Everett, this was fun, but I don’t do goodbyes well, and you’re leaving tomorrow, and we’ll probably never see each other again.”
Something foreign tugs at my heart, and for a split second I consider staying. Maybe taking her to dinner and giving our one very bad date a do-over, so we can say goodbye properly, but I know that would complicate our little arrangement, and that’s not what we are. We were always supposed to be temporary. A blip—one star in the midst of an expansive night sky. Burning fast and bright, until it dimmed completely and we moved on from each other.
“You know Charlotte is going to be back soon,” she continues, opening the door.
“Hiding me from your roommate?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s just getting late, and she and I will have to be up early tomorrow for rehearsals.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree. “You’re right. If you’re ever in Texas…”
“Yeah,” she says, a small smile ghosting across her lips. “Then, I’ll call.”
It’s an empty promise, and we both know it. There’s another pause, and I pull her into a hug and kiss her forehead. “Bye, Sugar.”
“Bye, Ev.”
Pulling away, I turn and walk down the hall, doing my best not to look back at the girl I’m leaving behind because, despite my original thoughts about her, I think I might actually miss having her in my life. But we both said we wouldn’t fall, and I’ve always been a man of my word.
Chapter 1: Christmas?
Claire
Present Day - December Seventeenth
“You wanted to see me before I left?” I ask, tapping on the glass window of our creative director, Dimitri’s, door.
“Oh, yes. Come in. Come in.” He closes his laptop and peers up from behind his desk. His dark hair is laced with strands of gray and is parted to one side. He’s dressed in a black turtleneck that contrasts against his pale skin, and his wire-framed glasses sit low on his long, thin nose. “I thought you’d left. It’s pretty late to still be here, even for you.” He checks his watch and then looks back up at me.
“Well, you know what they say—practice makes perfect,” I answer, shrugging and moving into his small, dimly lit office. Papers are scattered all over the top of the desk, and costume sketches for our spring performance ofSleeping Beautyare taped to the wall. My eyes land on the sketch of the Lilac Fairy’s costume, and hope blooms in my chest that one day, if I stay focused, I’ll get to wear it.
“I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been working,” he muses. “And I’ve been very impressed by your work ethic since you were promoted.”
“Thank you,” I say, playing with the initial charm dangling from the chain around my neck. “I have really big goals. And my hope is that if I continue to put in the work, then I’ll reach them.”
“Like the Sugar Plum Fairy?”
His question catches me off guard. It’s no secret that I wanted that part and was devastated when I didn’t get it, but this is the first time he’s acknowledging my disappointment.
“Well, yes, but I’m enjoying the role of understudy, and of course performing as the Snow Queen is an honor.” The lie slips out easily, and I try to mask my face with a smile. At twenty-nine, I should’ve earned a better role by now, and it’s a little embarrassing to have been given understudy to a dancer three years younger than me.
He hums to himself and spins one of the many gold and silver rings that decorate his long fingers.
