“Jessica and Theo, you’re next.” Francesca beckons them toward the middle of the room while Jase and I retreat to the edge, hand in hand.
It’s a bit crazy how fast I’ve gotten used to holding his hand. Talking to him. Just being with him. Some days it feels as though we’ve never done anything else.
It’s been almost two weeks since Victoria Winslow came to his door. Two weeks during which his parents haven’t reached out to him at all. It still hurts when I think about how his parents have treated him. It’s just not right.
But in these two weeks, Jase and I have spent every night together. He sleeps in my room, and I sleep in his. We wake up every morning together. Sometimes I wonder how I can suddenly be so happy.
It’s strange, isn’t it?
Two months ago, everything was different. Jase and I. Our dancing.
How could everything change so fast for the better?
“Stop brooding,” Jase whispers, pulling me over toward Mae and Skye.
“I’m not brooding.”
“Yes, you are. I can see it. When you’re thinking too much, you always raise your eyebrow a little bit.”
“Really?” Now I exaggerate it, and Jase smiles. I love his smile. But since the party, there’s always been something sad in it. Maybe it was there before, and I just didn’t notice because he never showed me the extent of his sadness. Now it’s different. I want to chase away the sadness. I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to.
“Yes,” he replies. He kisses my temple, and Skye makes a gagging sound.
“You’re disgusting,” she says, but there’s a wistful undertone to her voice. And a slight bitterness.
“No, they’re not,” Mae says and nudges me, grinning. “They’re just in love.”
“Seems like everyone’s in love at the moment.” Skye grimaces, and again, I get the feeling there’s more to her words than she’s letting on. We’ve spent more time together in the last two weeks. I like her, and I can understand why Jase is friends with her.
“You’ll fall in love too,” Mae says, trying to cheer her up. But Skye shakes her head with a shudder.
“No need, thanks!”
“But—”
“Hush!” Francesca says, interrupting Mae and looking at us disapprovingly.
A guilty expression crosses Mae’s face as she mouths an apology.
We silently watch Jessica and Theo, and then it’s Mae and Ches’s turn. Each couple performs the choreography that Francesca showed us at the beginning of class.
While I’m watching Mae, I start to get a prickling sensation at the back of my neck. Someone’s staring at me. I know who it is by instinct, and my hunch is confirmed when I turn to see Charlotte standing next to Devon on the other side of the room. She seems angry, probably because she heard Francesca compliment me. I return her gaze with more defiance than I actually feel, because I’m tired of her constantly making me feel insecure. I’m tired of it only taking one look from her to make me question myself. It can’t go on like this. Not if we’re going to be in the same classes together for the next four years.
Part of me wants to talk to her properly. To find some kind of closure. But I don’t think I’m quite that courageous yet.
* * *
“Why do you always look up at the balcony when we’re in the theater?” Mae asks curiously.
I blush, feeling caught out. “What do you mean?” I ask innocently. But my glowing red face gives me away. It’s Saturday, and we’re helping the set designers assemble part of the set so they can check if everything fits so far or if any changes need to be made.
Mae points to the upper tiers. “A bunch of empty seats really aren’t that exciting.”
She’s right. But whenever I’m in the theater, I think about how Jase and I kissed on the stage and what we did in the balcony. And then I get lost in daydreams and—
“See? You’re doing it again!” She laughs. “So what were you two doing up there, huh?”
“You don’t want to know.” Jase’s voice makes us both jump. He’s standing behind us with a cheeky grin on his face, but his eyes are gleaming. “You’ll just be jealous.”
