It still feels weird to knock on his door myself. A few seconds later, I hear him answer.
Everything will be fine. I can do this.
I take a deep breath and relax my shoulders before I open the door, walk into his office, and stop dead when I see a familiar figure sitting in the same chair I was sitting in last week.
Reed eyes me with annoyance, and his expression darkens when he realizes it’s not just some student who’s barged in but me.
In the year since I’ve been here, I haven’t seen Reed once, even though he’s Pearson’s nephew. But he’s not a dancer, and as far as I know, he and Pearson aren’t particularly close. The fact that he’s here today, of all days, is the icing on an absolutely shitty cake.
We were never really friends, not like he was with Caleb or Caleb was with me. Zoe’s brother was our connection, and after Caleb banished me from his life, Reed, Tristan, and Nick never tried to keep the friendship with me going. They had accepted me before because I was important to Caleb. Now I wasn’t anymore.
“Jase, come in. Sit down. Reed was just leaving.”
Reed snorts. He doesn’t seem like he was about to leave, but he gets up without arguing and pushes back a lock of his perfectly styled dark hair. “Thanks for your time. I suppose I’ll see you on Sunday with Mom and Dad,” he says, and Pearson nods.
“Hi, Reed,” I say curtly, because we’re adults and it would be ridiculous to ignore him. After all, we hung out together almost every day for four years.
Reed takes a step toward me and raises his hand as though he’s about to give me the finger but then remembers we’re in his uncle’s office and adjusts the collar of his neatly pressed white shirt instead. He shoves past me without a word.Jerk.
The door slams shut behind him, and Pearson turns his attention to me.
“What can I do for you?” he asks.
I sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and hesitate. Everything inside of me, above all my pride, wants to resist telling him why I’m here. But my pride won’t help me pay the tuition, so it’ll have to shut up.
“My father doesn’t want me to go to school here,” I say. “That’s why the tuition payment was withdrawn. My mother paid for the first year, but I don’t think she’ll do it again. I’ve always worked during vacation and saved money, but I’m sure it will never be enough to pay for everything. So either I’ll have to leave, or you’ll have to give me the chance to apply for a scholarship so I don’t have to spend my life as a doctor or a lawyer helping strangers instead of doing what I live for. Dancing.” Those are the cold, hard facts. Pretty awful facts, to be honest.
Pearson’s eyebrows have been rising as we talk, and now they almost disappear under his hair. The room is completely silent fora few seconds, so silent that for the first time, I hear the ticking of the clock on the wall behind me.
“Scholarships are always awarded at the beginning of a new semester,” he says, his voice calm and emotionless.
“What does that mean?” I know exactly what it means, but I need to hear him say it, because I don’t want to accept the simple truth that I might lose an entire semester. I can’t. I just can’t.
“You’re a talented dancer, Jase.” Pearson ignores my question. “But I can’t just pull a scholarship out of a magic hat for you.”
I wait, because even if it sounds like a no, it doesn’t feel like one. Hope surges through my veins. It’s a hope I can’t justify, but I can’t deny it.
“You can apply for a scholarship next semester like everyone else. I will ask Camille to provide you with the necessary paperwork.”
My whole body tenses. That’s not enough. Where the hell am I supposed to go if I have to take a semester off? I can’t possibly go to my parents. I don’t have money to rent an apartment either. What I’ve earned from the ballet lessons I’ve given the past couple summers can keep me afloat for a few months, but that’s about it. I could ask East if I could live with him again, but he saved me once already, and I don’t want to ask him again.
“What about this semester—” I stop when my voice threatens to break. I hate myself for the weakness. It feels like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff right now. It won’t take much to make me fall, and I can’t do anything to stop myself.
Pearson sighs. “This semester...” he hesitates. It makes me want to scream. My nerves are totally shot. “I’ll have to speak to the finance department and the board to see if we can make anexception for this semester so you can pay the fees in installments. Without interest.”
There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and it takes me a moment to realize what he said. If I were standing, my legs would probably collapse with relief. “Thank you,” I say, with a lump in my throat. “That would really help.”
Pearson smiles empathetically. “I’m sorry your parents don’t believe in your dream.”
I don’t reply, because there’s nothing I can say about that.
“There’s one more thing. If you want to qualify for a scholarship, I expect you to perform your best in all your courses. Especially the practical ones. Do you understand?”
“Of course.”
His smile gets wider. “Very good. Then I’ll take care of the rest, and Camille will be in touch with you.”
He dismisses me with a firm handshake, and only after I leave his office do a couple of things make sense to me. First, I have been given a chance to follow my dream. Second, I can’t perform my best in all my courses if I have a partner who can’t manage the most basic moves in the pas de deux.
