My girlfriends step in to give me a huge group hug and a shower of compliments.
“That was flawless.” Fee, my roommate and one of my best friends at Tilton U, makes prayer hands and bows. “You are wildly talented.”
“What she said. Youarethe music when you’re out there,” Cammie agrees.
“So awesome.” Enid nods her agreement.
I glance around, stomach in knots as I search the crowd. Flipand the other Terror guys are being bombarded by fans, which is not unusual. But he’s still here. Did he feel like he had to stay because everyone else was?
He’s wearing black dress pants, a pale blue dress shirt, and a dark tie. His hair is still a little too long, curling around his ears. He looks handsome and delicious and remains my favorite fantasy and eternally out of reach. Eventually he makes his way over, a bouquet in his hand.
My mouth goes dry, and my palms start to sweat. It’s not like he’ll bring up our last conversation in front of all these people, but the residual mortification is overwhelming.
Still, I take a step forward, though I don’t know what to do or how to act around him now. “Thanks for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You owned that stage,” he says.
“Thanks,” I croak, and struggle with what to say. He brought me flowers, so maybe we’ll be okay. “We worked really hard on that number.”
“It absolutely showed.” He holds out the bouquet, which is a fraction of the size of some of the other flowers I’ve been given tonight, but they’re stunning blooms in shades of pale blue and white to match my costume. It’s like he picked each one with intention and knows all my favorites.
Or maybe I’m projecting.
I bring them to my nose and inhale. “These are beautiful.”
“They match you, then.”
My eyes flare as he wraps his arms around me. I awkwardly pat his back, and my nose mashes against his armpit because I didn’t turn my head in time. He squeezes my waist, chin bumping my temple.
I break out in an anxiety-riddled sweat.
He steps back, his expression is both gentle and amused, but also... “You should be really proud of yourself, Talls.”
I’m flustered, and I want to apologize, but we’re surroundedby our friends and my family. I wave a hand around in the air, then grip the flowers to stop my flailing. “I had a whole team out there with me.”
He tips his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his full lips. Is that empathy or sympathy in his eyes? And which is worse? “Everyone was incredible, but you stole the show,” he says. “You’re phenomenal to watch.”
My stomach is a cement mixer. My stupid heart is all aflutter at the compliment.
But he said no, my helpful brain reminds me.
He’s being kind.
He’s smoothing things over for the sake of our friend group.
He’ll never see me as anything more than his coach’s daughter and a friend.
CHAPTER 4
TALLY
At dinner with my family, I can’t decide if things feel off because of the Flip situation, or if it’s something else. It sometimes feels like Dad is on the outside of things because he’s gone so much, but today it’s more pronounced. I’m distracted, replaying my post-show interaction with Flip, including the hug.What does it mean? I drag myself out of my head and back to my family.
My parents steal a glance at each other over their plates. Mom has been quiet, which is unusual. She typically drives dinner conversation. Fenna is talking animatedly about her upcoming cello performance while Ties stares at his lap because he’s texting under the table. Normally he wouldn’t be allowed to get away with that. Seems like everyone is preoccupied.
Dad and Mom exchange another look. My stomach twists at their tight expressions, and the wordless conversation they have every time they make eye contact.
“Kids, we have something important we need to discuss,” Dad finally says.
