“You all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, I just needed to get the blood flowing a little bit.”
“Good excuse. Now tell me the truth.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, surprised.
“Maya, you’ve got a very expressive face. You’re not good at hiding things.”
“Maybe you’re just watching me too close.”
“That, too,” he said, and I blushed. The bastard. He went on. “I’m serious, tell me why you ran away.”
“I didn’t run away.”
“You did, though.”
“I just…” I needed a second to gather my thoughts. “I don’t know how to get along with normal people. I try, but I just don’t.”
“Are you saying you’re not normal?”
“No! But I’ve started to realize I was living in a bubble, and now that I’m outside of it, I feel like an alien that landed on the wrong planet.”
“On your planet, is everyone like you?” That question irritated me for some reason, and I turned around to walk off. He grabbed my wrist and said, “Wait, sorry! I was just joking to try and stop you from being so serious all the time. I’m listening!”
“You can listen all you want, but you won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Look,” I told him, “every single person I’ve been around since I was four was part of the ballet world. I’m talking family, classmates, teachers, boyfriends… Even my best friend is a dancer. So you can imagine I have basically one thing I know how to talk about.”
“Let me guess…ballet?” he said jokingly.
“Even in the little free time I had, I basically watched YouTube videos of performances and documentaries about the lives of dancers.”
“Well, I won’t deny that’s a little obsessive, but it was your job, your career. It makes sense. I’ve got a friend who’s a high-level athlete, and trust me, he’s even worse.”
His hand slipped from my wrist to my fingers, which he interlaced with his.
“I don’t know how to have a conversation with anyone,” I said, “because I don’t know what to say. I haven’t seen all the big TV shows, I’ve barely read any books, I definitely don’t read the newspaper, and I have no idea what’s going on in the world.” I frowned. “I don’t have any opinions about anything, and I don’t even have a good sense of humor.”
“Are you saying that because you didn’t laugh at one of Dante’s jokes? Because if so, trust me, you’re not alone. He’s not funny.”
“No, that’s not it. I’m just boring.”
I looked down at his hands. He hadn’t let mine go, and I hadn’t tried to get him to.
“That’s not true. And you’re a good talker. You’re talking to me right now.”
“You make it so easy though,” I whispered.
I glanced over and got lost in his eyes. That was easy, too. I didn’t know why I opened up that way with him. Maybe it had something to do with that glass of milk he offered me on the first night. Or the fact that he didn’t leave me hanging out on the beach. He didn’t know me at all, but he’d worried about me, and I needed that from someone desperately.
Did that mean I needed him?
I felt his thumb tracing circles on my skin as he listened to me. Then he started pulling me back home.
“You know what you need?” he said. “You need to go out. And I’m going to make sure that happens.”
