School was easier because of Ethan, too. I had always been an honors student but now I also had friends. Well, I had Ethan’s friends. I no longer sat in the cafeteria alone. Kids didn’t talk to me simply because they needed something from me. When head cheerleader, slash, the most popular girl in school, Erica Adams asked to hang out after school, I felt as if my eyes would bug out of my head. I didn’t want to be the popular girl, but high school was approaching fast and I didn’t want to be the loser with no friends.
After my math class one afternoon, I was surprised to find that Ethan wasn’t waiting near my locker. Wondering if he had gotten in trouble again with Mr. Collins in biology, I grabbed my books for my next class and closed my locker door.
It was then I saw him.
With her.
Erica.
An indescribable emotion washed over me.
Anger.
Sadness.
I felt it in the pit of my stomach.
Erica threw her beautiful blonde hair back and laughed at something he said. I stood there paralyzed at the scene before me. She didn’t want to be my friend. She wanted to be his girlfriend. I hugged my books to my chest and walked past them. I kept my head low and willed my feet to move quickly so I wasn’t seen.
“Les, wait up,” Ethan called out behind me, but I didn’t stop. I hurried down the hallway and straight into a bathroom. The scent of antibacterial soap wafted through the small three-stall restroom. The first bell rang, warning students there were three minutes to get to class. Having no desire to leave, I dropped my books on the counter and looked at myself in the mirror. Tears welled in my eyes and I couldn’t explain the feelings that coursed through me.
Erica and Ethan. My mind replayed it over and over like a broken record. E & E. I could already imagine her doodling all over her composition notebook like a love struck fool. E2. Erica loves Ethan. Erica and Ethan Prescott. I would lose my best friend.
I was hurt. No.
I was angry. No.
I was jealous.
Erica was pretty, and popular. Her hair was shiny and flawless. And her breasts had begun to develop at a rapid speed. I on the other hand had wild untamable hair and my body was lanky. She had everything I didn’t. Her mother wasn’t a crazy strict dance coach who didn’t let her do anything but dance and school work. The bell for class sounded. I was officially late. It would be my first tardy ever, but like most girls, I’d blame my period. Not that I knew anything about that, but I had seen a few girls show up late to class and blame it on cramps. I gave myself one last look in the mirror, grabbed my books and walked out of the bathroom.
The second I swung the door back, I was greeted by Ethan. I sucked in a quick breath. He stood across the hallway, one leg propped up on the wall. His books were in one arm and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, kicking off the wall.
“You’re late to class,” I barked and walked past him down the hallway.
“I don’t care. You ran off; I thought you were sick.” He trailed behind me.
“I’m fine, Ethan.”
He stopped. “Geez.”
I should have felt guilty for treating him like that. He didn’t deserve my sass, but I couldn’t control the jealousy thing. This was all new to me.
“Why don’t you go see if Erica is all right?” I said, looking over my shoulder at him. I spun my head forward and headed for the stairwell, I wanted to skip class and sit in the nurse’s office until it all seemed right in the world. Ethan’s footfalls approached and I tried to walk down the stairs faster but he beat me to the first landing and jumped in front of me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The words spewed out of me. “I’m fine! I don’t need you waiting around for me.”
“Fine?” He cocked his head to the side and a sly grin grew on his face. “You ran into the girl’s bathroom to hide from me. I wouldn’t call that fine.”
“I had cramps,” I said louder than I intended. “I’m not hiding from you. So if you don’t mind, I have to go to the nurse now.”
“Whatever.” Ethan stepped to the side. “Hopefully the nurse has something to cure your jealousy, too.”
I was halfway down the second flight of stairs when his comment registered in my head. “Jealousy?” I looked up at him. “Me, jealous of you and Erica?” I chuckled and prayed to every God out there that I could lie thought my teeth. “Ethan, you’re my friend so I’m going to tell you how it is. Don’t flatter yourself. If Erica wants you, she can have you. Feel free to crawl into her window at night.” I turned back down the stairs.
We didn’t speak for the rest of the day. He wasn’t on the bus home, and after school I begged my mother to stay at the studio for a few more hours. She seemed happy with my dedication and didn’t have an inkling that my need to stay longer was to avoid seeing Ethan outside our house.
That night, I tossed and turned in bed. I was mad at Ethan, but my anger was pushed aside when the hours passed and he never showed. I grew worried. When I went to bed, I locked my bedroom window, but I spent most of the night staring at it, waiting for him to show up. By two in the morning, I crawled out of bed and opened it. I was afraid I’d taken away his safe place and that was worse than him dating Erica. Peering my head out the window, all seemed calm at the Prescott’s home.
The following morning I was late to the bus stop and Ethan was already sitting with some kid named Michael he had become friendly with. He didn’t even glance my way when I passed him. Instead, he pulled a baseball cap out of his bag and placed it over his head.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to yell.
It was our first argument.
The school day wasn’t any better. My classes dragged, and to make matters worse, Ethan completely ignored me. He didn’t wait after any of my classes, he ditched gym, and when I did see him in the hallway he was always with Erica. What hurt the most was that he sat with her at lunch, leaving me all alone.
Trying to stop myself from crying, I pulled out the book we were reading in English class and worked on the assignment. “Hey, is this seat taken?” I glanced up and noticed Michael standing in front of me. I glanced around my empty table. Everyone who usually sat with me at lunch had gravitated toward Erica’s table.
“They’re all empty,” I said and looked back at my book.
“I know, but usually you sit next to Ethan, so I wasn’t sure if he was coming back.” Michael sat beside me. “Is that Mrs. Evan’s homework you’re doing?”
I closed the book. Ethan was sitting a few tables behind us. Our eyes met. Though Erica continued to speak, his eyes remained focused on me.
“Yes.” I pulled my attention away from Ethan and looked at Michael. “I figured I’d get a jump start on it since I’ll be busy later.”
“With dance, right?”
“Ye—”
“Can I sit with you, Les?” Charlie interrupted me. He was Ethan’s younger brother. We’d sat together at lunch since the first day he started here. Ethan never spoke of his disabilities so I had no clue what they were, but- lunch was the only time we saw him during the day. He rode a different bus, and his classes were longer and on the opposite side of the building.
I smiled up at him. “Of course.” This time, I didn’t need to look at Ethan to feel his gaze on me.
“Thanks. We sit at this table. Not there. Only this table,” Charlie said and placed his tray in front of him.
“We can always sit here, Charlie.” I noticed him glancing at my tray. “You can have my cookie if you want.”
Charlie clapped his hands and took it from my tray. “You’re the best, Les.”
“Anytime, Charlie,” I said with a smile on my face. At least I still had Charlie.
Glancing back at Michael, I smiled. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head and glanced over at Ethan. I didn’t like their exchange. There was something in Ethan’s eye
s that haunted me.
“Everything okay, Michael?” I asked when Ethan looked over at Erica and smiled.
“Yeah, everything is fine.” He slouched down and picked at his lunch.
By Friday, Ethan and I still had not spoken. My window had been open all week but he never crawled through it. There was a rumor floating around school that he had been in a fight. I didn’t believe it, but when I spotted a cut on his eyebrow, my stomach dropped. Ethan was loved by the entire school, he was friends with everyone, and getting into a fight was something I could never see him doing anymore. I had an inkling that it was his father’s backlash, and the guilt weighed heavy on my heart. Because I was jealous of him and Erica, he had nowhere to run.
At lunch, I walked into the cafeteria with Charlie. As we made our way through the crowded lunchroom, my eyes met Ethan’s and he scowled. He was sitting with Erica and her friends again. I looked away and headed toward our usual spot. Michael was waiting for us.
“Hey.” I placed my tray next to his. “I hate this school sometimes.”
“I got you an apple.” Michael held up the Granny Smith for me.
“Thanks.” I took it and placed it on my tray. Michael was still smiling at me. I shifted on my seat. “Do you want my juice?” I offered wondering if he was expecting an exchange.
“Actually, I was wondering.” Michael cleared his throat. “Tonight, a bunch of us are going to the movies.” He paused and took a sip of his water. “I was thinking, if you’re not busy, maybe you want to come with me?”
Charlie snorted. “You’re asking her on a date. Date. Date. Date. Date.”
I looked over at Charlie and laughed awkwardly. “Um . . .” I’d never been on a date before. “I have dance practice until seven. I can ask my Mom to drop me off?”
Michael’s eyes beamed with excitement. “Okay. The movie starts at 7:30, and my mom is doing the pick up so she can totally drive you home.”
“Great,” I said nervously.
“It’s a date, then.”
I smiled and looked over at Charlie for some sort of help. I was going on my first date. With Michael. He was a nice guy, and I saw him as a friend, but he wasn’t the person I’d imagined my first date would be with.
After much pleading with my mom, my father and I finally convinced her to let me go. Once I was finished with dance, I quick-changed out of my tights and into jeans before my mother drove me to the theater.
“I’ll pick you up here after the movie.” She handed me a twenty-dollar bill. “I don’t care if Mrs. Tulip is taking everyone else home. I’ll be here to pick you up. Do you understand?”
I sighed and jumped out of the car. “Yes, Mom.” I closed the car door.
Walking inside the theater, I waited by the kiosk for Michael. It was the meeting point he’d suggested. Though the theater was crowded with the Friday night crowd, I didn’t see a single person I knew. There was no sight of anyone from my school.
I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
When seven thirty came along, I realized Michael wasn’t planning to show up. I’d been asked on my very first date only to be stood up.
Unwanted tears swelled in my eyes. Hurt and disappointed, I walked out of the theater. I couldn’t go home. My mother would never let me out again. Walking a few feet away from the entrance, I sat on the curb and lowered my head to my knees. The tears flowed from my eyes and onto the asphalt. I was mad at the world, at Michael, and most of all, I was mad at myself.
I sat and wallowed for a few minutes, and didn’t lift my head until someone sat beside me. I half-hoped it was Michael, but I was greeted with Ethan instead.
I rubbed the tears away from my eyes. “What are you doing here?” I cleared my throat and looked out into the parking lot.
“I came to get you since Michael didn’t show.”
“Where’s Erica?”
“Come on, Freckles. I don’t want to fight anymore.” His voice was low and it tugged at my heart. Glancing over at him, I noticed the cut on his eyebrow.
“When did it happen?” I gently rubbed the scab with my thumb.
“The day we fought. He yelled at Charlie and called him stupid, so I got in his face. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“I’m sorry.” My lips quivered and my emotions were all over the place. “My window was open all week,” I admitted.
“I know.” He took my hand in his. “I wasn’t sure whether you did it out of obligation or if you really meant it.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds. “You’re always welcome to stay in my room regardless if we are fighting. Even if we never speak again and I hate you, I will never turn you away. I don’t want him hitting you.”
“Thanks.”
“Wait.” I pulled my hand away. “How did you know I was here?”
“I told Michael to call it off. And when I saw you weren’t home—”
“You what?” I stood and took a step back.
“I don’t want you going out with him.” Ethan stood and crossed his arms over his chest.
“So you told him not to come?”
“No, I told him to call you and tell you not to come.”
“Who are you to tell him anything? He asked me to the movies. What’s the big deal?”
“He’s my friend and I don’t want him dating you,” Ethan stated matter-of-factly.
“I got stood up because of you?” I threw my hands in the air and groaned. “You don’t have that right.” I turned and walked away from him.
“Leslie!” he yelled behind me, but I continued to walk away.
“Screw you!” I yelled, refusing to look back at him.
“Les.” Ethan grabbed my hand.
I spun to face him. “Don’t.” I tugged my hand away. “Do you know how humiliated I was back there? How stupid I felt waiting around for him to show?”
“I’m sorry.” His voice lowered an octave and his eyelids were hooded.
“Why?” I refused to let his sad eyes change the way I felt.
“Why, what?”
“Why did you tell him not to come?” My arms crossed at my chest. I needed a valid reason why my best friend would be so mean to me. When a few seconds passed and Ethan didn’t speak, I turned away. “Whatever.” I mumbled under my breath.
I took two steps before Ethan grabbed my hand and pulled me into his arms. I didn’t have a chance to protest before his lips were on mine. His hands cupped my face and mercifully all my anger toward him disappeared into the thin, warm air.
It was my first kiss.
The first time I heard my heart thunder in my ears.
It happened so quickly, his lips on mine, his scent overpowering all of me. Before I knew it, it was over and his green eyes were staring down at me.
Slowly, Ethan brushed my hair away from my face and a grin grew across his lips. “I didn’t want him to be your first kiss,” he whispered, and I could smell my strawberry lip balm on his breath. “I don’t want you kissing anyone but me.”
“What about Erica?” I said breathlessly.
He pressed his forehead against mine. “She’s not you,” he said looking deep into my eyes. “She will never be you.”
“Okay,” I muttered and I felt my cheeks curl up into a grin.
Ethan smiled at me, our noses flushed. “Everyone seems to know that you’re my girl but you. Be mine, Freckles,” he whispered and placed his arms around my lower back.
I bit my lower lip and nodded, afraid that anything I said would ruin this moment. Ethan kissed me once more and I closed my eyes, forever etching this day in my memory.
And just like that Ethan and I were a couple.
9
PRESENT
The keys dangle from my hand as I open the studio door. Stale air greets me when I step into the studio that was once my home away from home. Locating the switch, I turn on the lights and gasp at what I see.
Time seems to stand still.
There i
s no shine to the wood floors laid parallel to the mirrors, and the dust that covers every surface is like the cloak that covers my dreams. The music that once vibrated through these walls has long ceased, and the irony is not lost on me: when I walked away from this dream everything else died. My mother shut the studio down when I left, and it looks as if she hasn’t been here since. Though she said she rented it out, I know that by the amount of dust that it was a lie. It saddens me to see something she worked so hard for tossed away so easily.
I take a few seconds walking around, the familiarity of each step reminding me of the years I spent here. I let the emotions crash over me as I drag my fingers along the ballet barre installed in the back of the room. The throbbing in my ankle brings fresh tears to my eyes, and I look at myself in the mirror. For a split second I see a younger version of myself in a leotard and I’m reminded of how everything has changed.
“Enough with the pity party, Les. It’s time to get to work.” I brush back the tears that threaten to fall. I’m here to save my parents, not dwell on the past.
My mother casually mentioned that the studio needed a clean up before we could open the doors again, but by the looks of it, I’ll be here for the remainder of the week. I toss my hair into a messy bun and get to work.
With a full day behind me, the floors are vacuumed and waxed. The mirrors are clean and streak free, and I can see the potential the studio still has. It looks like it once did, beautiful and filled with endless opportunities. I feel anxious, and hopeful for a successful grand re-opening, but I doubt I’ll ever be the dance instructor my mom is—or was.
Walking over to the sound system in the far right corner of the room, I plug my phone in and slide my feet out of my tennis shoes. There is only one way to find out if I still have it in me. Whether I can teach or if I’ll be a complete failure. I wait for the song to load, crank up the volume, and hit the play button. Naturally, my feet and arms take first position, and then I press up on my toes and wait for the song to start. Closing my eyes, I allow the melody to take over my soul. It’s a routine my mother and I choreographed.
Broken Dreams (Fatal Series Book 3) Page 6