We turned two corners before she tugged her hand out of mine. “I don’t need you to hold my hand.” Her words sounded tough but her tone was soft. Broken.
I stopped to face her. “What is going on here?”
Her face was flushed, dark curls escaping from her ponytail and framing her face. She looked so pretty…or she would have if she wasn’t shooting death glares in my direction. “You’re dragging me down a dark hallway.”
I huffed. “Don’t play dumb. You’re pissed at me?—”
“Of course I am,” she interrupted. “You had the perfect opportunity to step up to your dad and tell the truth for once in your life and?—”
“For once in my life?” I echoed. “Since when am I thebad guy here? Yeah, I’ve been lying to my dad about our private sessions, but you’ve been lying too.”
Her mouth snapped shut and I felt an inexplicable surge of guilt. “It’s not the same,” she said.
“How?” I threw my hand out to the side. “Seriously, how is this not the same?”
Her cheeks turned red with anger as she took a step forward and jabbed me in the chest. “It's totally different for you. You could pursue your dreams if you wanted to.” She shook her head. “Your dad’s opinion is the only thing standing in your way. If you wanted to be a musician, you could go to Juilliard.”
I stood there stunned by the sheer anger in her voice. At first, I thought her anger was because of me, but now, I was beginning to think this was about something completely different. Something I didn’t quite understand, but I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to understand this beautiful, complex woman in front of me. I took in a breath, trying to calm my anger before I spoke.
“You’re right it is different for me, because I don't have dreams of making this my future or my career. You do,” I said. “Yale is my future. Juilliard is yours.”
“Don’t you get it?” Her expression was pinched with anger, and the pain in her eyes was hard to witness. “I can’t be a dancer”. She gestured to her body. “I will never be a dancer?—”
“You don’t know that.” Why did she keep saying this about herself? She wasamazing, she had to know that.
“I do,” she whispered. Her anger had morphed into pain. Deep, soul crushing pain. It was etched on her face. “I’ve been told that on a daily basis for years by people who know.”
“Well, they’re wrong. They’re idiots, and?—”
Her snort of disgust cut me off. “You don’t know anything about my world so please don’t lecture me.”
“I wasn’t trying to?—”
“You live in this perfect world where everyone falls all over you.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Including me.”
I almost missed the last part because she’d said it so quietly. Almost to herself. My heartbeat changed from one of frustration to one of hope. But doubt crept in just as quickly and I began to fear I was making things up in my head.
But I needed to know. “What did you say?” I asked.
She stared down at the ground and frustration had me clenching my hands into fists to keep from shaking her. “Why didn’t you reply to my last text?”
Her head shot up. “What?”
I thrust a hand through my hair, which was still wet from the showers. I took a deep breath and tried for calm. “Did you read it?”
She shook her head, her eyes focused on my T-shirt now, like she couldn’t quite meet my eyes.
“I asked if you have a boyfriend.”
Her eyes flickeredup. “Were you mocking me?”
I narrowed my eyes as I tried to make sense of this non sequitur. “What? When?”
She licked her lips and glanced away. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even care.”
“Care about what? What am I missing here?”
“You know, I thought…” I watched her swallow and try again. “We’ve been hanging out alone so much that I guess I just forgot…”
