All we had left was regionals and the senior recital. Maybe state, if we qualified.
And that was it.
My dancing career would be over.
In the last three months, dancing had become everything to me. These friends became my family—my safe place—because I couldn’tstand being at home. The temperature between Mom and Dad oscillated between arctic cold and lava hot. There were days they tried to hold hands or sway together in the kitchen to a song on the radio, days they couldn’t even look each other in the eye, and on other days you could slice the anger and tension with a knife. I hated pretending I had no idea what was going on. I hated when my siblings asked why Mom was crying and I had to blame Peter’s white blood cells.
And the worst part? I hated watching them try.
Seeing them hold hands, sit at the table with their schedule books, or drink decaf coffee on the porch while Dad smoked his cigar made bile climb my throat. He should be punishing her. Cutting her off. Teaching her a lesson. No, I didn’t want my family to fall apart, but I wanted justice for my father.
He was being a pathetic doormat.
I couldn’t believe I used to call that conniving, self-centered woman my idol.
That was the part that damaged me the most.
Maybe my dad could be noble and forgiving, but I had no such plans.
Which was why my entire family—save Mom—sat in the audience that night. When we bowed a second time, my dad’s distinct finger whistle cut through the auditorium like a fog horn. A chorus of children’s voices singing “Hollie! Hollie!” made me smile. I didn’t know where they were sitting and couldn’t see past the light. So I turned my head toward the sound—stage left—and blew the audience a kiss.
My firetruck red, sparkly dress swished around my hips as my troupe disappeared behind the curtain again, whooping and hollering with excitement. Once the curtain closed and muted the din of our electrified audience, the ten of us gathered in a group hug like a cluster of cherries, our sweaty bodies smushing together. Tears drummed hot in my eyes until I swiped my fingers over my cheeks.
High heels clipped over the backstage floors as Mrs. Kay, our dance teacher, approached us with open arms—her eccentric personality shining as bright as the stage lights. “Lord have mercy! That wasphenomenal. If you all dance like that at regionals, we will go to state no doubt about it.”
After dismissing us to our families, she sidled up next to me, linking her arm through mine. “So, have you thought about what I told you?”
I tried to smile at Mrs. Kay. “Yes, but I haven’t mentioned it to my parents yet.”
She took a sharp breath, her eyes going wide. “Competition is thick. I wouldn’t wait, Hollie.”
“I know.” I looked down, dreading to tell her what I should’ve told her months ago. “I don’t think my grades are good enough. I started the year strong, but there’s a lot going on with my family, and I just…” I shrugged. “I’m trying.”
“Don’t give up. You let me know when you’re ready and I’ll send a reference to Coach Melinda, alright?”
“I know. Thank you.” Dancing with the Denver University Dance Team was a dream of mine—and my grades were good enough to get in, but nowhere close to good enough for a full, or even partial, scholarship. I had about forty dollars and an old beat-up car to my name.
Student loans were an option, but…I shrunk at the idea of incurring that much debt when I didn’t even have a career passion.
All I wanted to do was dance.
Jade’s parents were good people and often hosted parties for the dance troupe. For a bunch of dancers sugar-spiked on Mountain Dew and Skittles, a party included dance routines, stunts on their trampoline in the bitter cold, board games, a lot of laughter, andDance, Dance Revolutionon the Wii. Jade’s siblings were present, as was her young and extremely attractive blond uncle, who kept looking my way.
I tried not to notice him as I munched my chips near the game table, but his gaze was heavy. He sat in the living room, nursing a Yeti cup against his chest. When her parents left the room and went into the kitchen, he stayed. When my gaze lifted to him, he didn’t lookaway. Just raised his glass and tossed me a smile that stole my breath away.
My heart fluttered and my hands grew sweaty.
Lee and Jade finished their turn on the Wii, then squished me between them on the couch. They immediately launched into conversation but I didn’t say much because her uncle was still watching me. I should’ve been afraid, but his smile redeemed his shameless staring. It was a cute, almost guilty smile. My cheeks turned hot red and I hoped no one would notice how flustered I felt.
When I got up to refill my soda, he met me at the table.
“Hollie.”
My gaze snapped to his, my heart jumping to my throat at the sight of his winter blue eyes. He knew my name? “Uh, hi. And you are?”
“My apologies. I’m Jade’s uncle, Garrett.”
I shook his offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”
