But somewhere deep inside, I know that it’s too late. I’m already writing notes again. Notes that I actually give to her, not just hide for her like I did all of last year. I’m telling her my secrets even though I don’t really want to. But I can’t stop. I started, and now I’m lost. Completely and irrevocably. If I fall again, this time there will only be the abyss below me. No safety net. Only a bottomless pit.
I’ve been standing at the edge for a long time now, but tonight there are only a few inches left as Zoe steps onto the stage and begins to dance to music that I can’t hear. It’s pitch dark in the theater, but I’ve been sitting here long enough that my eyes have adapted to the darkness, and I can see every one of her movements. I seeher.
Zoe has always had her own special way of dancing. Every movement is perfect, her muscles taut with flexibility and grace. You can tell that Zoe loves ballet because she feels it. Everything. The music, the pain, the tension in every muscle. She makes it look easy. We all do, but somehow there’s a special aura around her. Or maybe I’m the only one who sees it.
Either way, I know I’m screwed as I watch her dance when I should be leaving. I stay where I am until she finally sinks down into a deeprévérence. I can’t see her smile, but I can feel it, and the muscle in my chest twitches, and my legs act of their own accord. I stand up and go to the stage, not thinking about what a stupid idea it is. I just do it.
Chapter 25
Zoe
Sometimes I wish that I had never stopped writing you notes.
—Zoe
My heart races, and my chest is moving at an alarming rate from breathing so fast. There’s a smile on my face as I straighten up, and then I almost freak out as I see someone just a few steps away.
Jase.
“God, don’t scare me like that!” I shout and take out the earbuds while my heart pounds hard against my ribs.
His gaze is serious, and something in his eyes triggers a frantic fluttering in my stomach. “I’m sorry, I thought you heard me.”
I shake my head. I didn’t hear anything. Just the music. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, I guess.” He takes a step toward me, then stops right in front of me and just stares.
“You’ve been watching me,” I say. Maybe, probably, certainly the thought should worry me, but it’s Jase that’s standing here in front of me.
He shrugs, but there’s no apology in his eyes. “I couldn’t look away.”
His words hit me right where it hurts. Right in the heart.
“Why?”
A sound that’s something between incredulous laughter and a frustrated sigh escapes him. “Because you’re you, Zoe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, and my voice is soft and all at once a little hoarse. It doesn’t sound like me at all. But he’s so damn close to me and is saying things he shouldn’t, and I want to hear all of it. Whispered secrets that are even more intense than written secrets on crumpled pieces of paper.
“If I knew that, I’d have one less problem.” His voice resonates with a tone of desperation, and my heart tightens.
“So now I’m a problem for you?” It’s a rhetorical question; I know it’s true. I’m a miserable dance partner, but Jase is making it sound like it’s more than that. And if it’s not that, then what?
Jase shakes his head so firmly that a few strands of hair fall over his forehead. I want to brush them away, to know how they feel between my fingers. I bite my bottom lip, because this is all wrong. I can’t feel this way. Not for Jase, and not at all. I shouldn’t. Am I even allowed to?
But then he stares at my lips, and even though the whole room is dark, I can see his pupils dilate. His eyes look darker, and the fluttering in my stomach turns into something different, warmer, more urgent.
“You cause problems, Pixie, but you’re not a problem yourself. Because you’re you.” He moves a little closer, and all at once I can’t breathe. My throat is getting tight, and my heart is beating way too fast.
His fingertips graze my hand, and an electrifying tingling runs up my arm to my chest, a warm flicker that becomes too strong, too fast.
Why do you want me to kiss you, Pixie?
Because you’re you, and I’m me. And I believe that together, we can be everything.
All at once, I can hear our voices, what we said over a year ago. The questions and secrets, the goose bumps all over my body. And then the kiss. A single, short kiss that was simultaneously everything and nothing. Too much and too little.
“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.”
