Face to Face (On Pointe Book 3)

by Penelope Freed

  I don’t want to tell him about my confrontation with the girls from his program. Am I afraid that he’ll believe them? A little. Am I worried that he’ll say something to them and make it worse? Definitely. Am I terrified, deep down in a dark little space in my heart, they’re right and he would be better off with someone who understands his world better? Absolutely.

  Do I have the strength to push him away? Not a chance.

  “I believe you. And I’m sorry for overreacting on Saturday. We didn’t get in trouble. Getting mad at you for something that might have happened, but didn’t, is silly.” The moment the words are out of my mouth Trevor has me crushed against his chest. I slip my hands around his waist and let him take tonight’s worries away. They won’t be gone forever, but for tonight, I’m content to let him hold me and chase my anxious thoughts away.

  I try to lean subtly to my left, to take my weight off my right ankle, but he’s paying too close attention to let me get away with it. “Is your ankle bothering you?” When I don’t answer, he swings me up in his arms and carries me back inside, depositing me on one of the couches with instructions to stay there while he gets some ice.

  As we sit together in one of the overstuffed armchairs, watching videos on his phone, do I notice the looks from the other girls hanging around the lobby? Yes. Am I going to say anything about it? Nope. Hoping they’ll go away if I ignore them, I snuggle into my boyfriend’s side and tune them out.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Katy

  Me: You’re sure it’s not hurting you?

  Hannah: I promise, it’s fine. I’m allowed to rehearse my pas, but staying flat so it’s just the lifts. Which is probably a good thing since that’s what I was having the hardest time with.

  I don’t know how much I believe Hannah, but I haven’t been able to get her or Lisa on the phone or Facetime tonight so texting will have to do. I let myself stay mad at Hannah for twenty-four hours, but after she apologized and Lisa filled me in on the drama they’ve been having with the track girls, I decided to take the high road and let it go. Yawning, I pull my clean clothes out of the dryer to take them back to my room.

  Me: are the other girls still giving you a hard time? Do I need to come up there and bust some heads in? Say the word and I’ll get my gang together.

  I debate between sending a gif of Taylor Swift’s Bad Blood video or a pack of hunting lionesses before sending the lionesses.

  The last two days have been a blur of running in the mornings with the boys, swimming with JJ in the afternoons, and going to dance with Olivia in the evenings—Ms. Parker was happy I finally made it to a ballet class. She didn’t say a word about me not being there all summer which made me feel worse, but by the end of class I remembered why I love it.

  Hannah: they still suck, but whatever. What can they do? At least they’ve stopped adjusting their bras every time I walk past them.

  Me: they seriously did that? Wow, and I thought the plastics here were petty!

  Hannah: Hahaha. Yeah, Lisa noticed it first, but after the fifth time I got the message. But then Noah, bless him, asked one of them if they dropped crumbs down there. It was pretty great.

  I laugh to myself, picturing the scene. I don’t want to be there for all the classes, god I’m so glad I’m not, but I wish I could be there for all the other stuff. Their little gang of new friends sounds so cool, I’m sad I’ll never get to meet them.

  Me: Noah sounds like a hoot. I think he and I would get along.

  Lisa: You and Noah would definitely get along. If he and Jack were ever in the same state I’m not sure we’d all survive.

  Dumping the clean clothes on my bed, I load up the next pile and take it to the garage to throw in the washing machine, my phone tucked inside the waistband of my pajama shorts.

  Hannah: Yeah, he’s not on the same level as Jack, but he has the same vibe. We miss you, can’t wait to see you guys. Lisa is dying to see Hunter again. Are you ready for your race? We need pictures!

  Lisa: Can you blame me? Five weeks is a long time.

  An idea starts building at Hannah’s words. I wonder…

  Me: I’m sure I’ll have pictures, my parents are coming and you know my dad will take a ton. My mom is too worried. Pray that I don’t die. I’m going to eat all of my favorite foods in the next 24 hours, in case it’s my last chance.

  Ha! I crack myself up sometimes. A half-formed idea starts to take shape in my mind. I’d have to talk to my parents, and probably convince Cole to come too. I should convince Cole first, then my parents might not say no. The gif of a woman stuffing her face with food Hannah sends has me giggling as I move a load of wet clothes from the washer to the dryer, pulling out the leotards and hanging them up to dry.

  Me: Did I tell you that Cole decided to join us?

  I’m taking full credit for the fact that Cole has been much less grumpy since we talked. He even played Quinn Ball with us yesterday. The whole gang was over, the football team, the cheerleaders—minus the bitch squad—me, Cole, JJ, and a few other people. Without the mean girls around, I actually had a great time. Maybe it was because I knew I had Olivia and JJ in my corner, maybe it was because for once I didn’t care about what anyone else thought of me.

  Hannah: That’s good, did you ever figure out what was wrong?

  I’m not going to out my brother so I hedge my answer.

  Me: He’s been having issues with his teammates. I guess some of the guys on his team are super toxic and homophobic.

  Hannah takes a while to write her answer, I’m hoping that means she has a juicy story to share, not that she’s weirded out by my answer. You’d have to be a particularly horrible kind of person to be immersed in the ballet world and have an issue with anyone being queer.

  Hannah: That’s awful Katy, I’m sorry. Do you ever forget that people like that exist? I kind of did. Sharing the dorm building with them has been interesting. I never realized how sheltered I was until I came here. It’s so different from home.

  Lisa: Agreed. I never realized just how white everywhere else is compared to home.

  Lisa: I miss my mom’s rice balls.

  She’s not wrong. Our safe little suburb has Korean, Persian, Ethiopian, and any other kind of food you could ever want on every corner. And a ballet teacher who never comments on our weight, yells at us, or compares us to each other? Yeah, you could say our lives have been sheltered, but not sheltered from experiences, sheltered from some of the ugliness of the world.

  Hannah: It doesn’t matter how “cool” you are in PSB, like Gloria and Uri, the runners will always see all of us as dorks. Trevor is the only one who’s made friends with any of the dancers. And the other runners give him a hard time about it. It doesn’t matter that Uri drives a motorcycle back home in Israel, or that Noah is also on his school’s varsity baseball team. It doesn’t matter that Elena is from freaking Cuba.

  Lisa: We’re all ballet nerds to the runners. And the gay comments? They’re like a Lifetime movie or something. I didn’t think people like that were real.

  Cole’s face when he told me about Henry flashes in my mind. I hate this Marcus dude, I hope I never meet him because it will be ugly if I do. JJ’s face flashes in my mind too. I should tell my friends about her—I don’t know why I haven’t. But I’ve never talked about my crushes before, at least not the ones on people we actually know. Hannah’s “no boys’’ rule squashing the odd discussion. I debate how to bring it up as I carry a load of clean clothes up to my room.

  Hannah: I can see why Cole would be grumpy with a team of people like that. Your family is so awesome it would be hard to go from that to being surrounded by a bunch of toxic dudes all day long. Did I tell you Trevor yelled at a bunch of them when they called Gloria a beard behind her back? And before you say anything, yes I realize how great he is and that I was dumb for being mad.

  Respect for Trevor floods thro
ugh me. I guess I have to like him now, no more teasing Hannah about his habit of sending her a hundred texts in a row.

  Me: I’m going to go then so you can go hang out with your amazing boyfriend. I’ll send you guys updates so you know when to come to my funeral.

  Lisa: You better!

  Hannah: Night!

  “Hey Bug?” Jack sticks his head in my room, as I’m dumping my clean laundry on the bed to fold it and put it away.

  “What’s up?” I look up from sorting the multiple shirts and socks in my hands.

  “Just checking on you. Are you nervous for the race?” Jack leans in the doorway, watching me refold the tank in my hand.

  Am I nervous? “I’m not nervous about the race. I think we’re going to kick ass.” I leave it at that, hoping Jack won’t be like he always is and get in my business. He’s the nosiest person I know.

  “So, what are you nervous about then?” Damnit.

  “Who says I’m nervous?”

  “You folded the same shirt three times in a row,” he points out.

  With a sigh, I put down that shirt and start rolling up a pair of tights. Finally going back to a ballet class the other day reminded me how much I love it. I’m planning to get to at least a couple more classes before summer is over. If nothing else, it’s a couple of hours that forces me to stop thinking about JJ. “Honestly? I don’t know why I’m nervous.”

  “Katy Bug, it’s going to be fine. We got you. You know Cole, Hunter, and I won’t let anything happen to you.” Right. Dingbat here doesn’t believe that I’m not nervous about the race.

  “Jack, I’m not nervous about the race. I promise.”

  Jack watches me pair up some socks in silence. “Is it JJ?”

  I freeze, my heart racing in my chest. Deliberately, I pick up another pair of socks and roll them up. “Why do you ask?” Meeting his eyes, I have to know. “Do you like her? Is that why you’re so determined for us to be friends?”

  “What? No.” Jack starts to explain. “She’s cool, I like her, but I don’t like her, like her. She’s like a sister to me, or one of your ballet buddies. I thought you would need a friend since Hannah and Lisa were going to be gone all summer.”

  “Like a sister?” I can’t help asking.

  “Yeah, Bug. Like a sister. Besides, I know for a fact she’s not interested in me that way.”

  I toss the leggings I was folding in a pile, frustrated. “Why do you and Hunter keep hinting that you know something I don’t? It’s so annoying. Both of you keep acting like you know some secret about whoever it is that JJ is interested in. All these stupid hints and insinuations, like I’m supposed to trust that for once in my life a girl might want me more than you two? I’m not stupid, I know that’s not true.” My voice is getting louder, a tight sensation in my throat warning me that tears are coming any minute. “Stop, whatever it is you think you’re hinting at please stop. I’m just the goofy sidekick in everyone else’s story. And it’s fine. Really.”

  I turn my back on Jack, shoving the folded laundry into my dresser drawer, not bothering to separate it. A sniff escapes me before I can stop it, wiping the lone tear that rolls down my cheek.

  “Bug, I—”

  “Go. Please.” I don’t turn around, listening for the sound of Jack’s footsteps retreating. He closes my door with a quiet snick as he walks away. I throw myself down on my bed, hugging one of my giant pillows to my chest, willing myself not to break down crying. Why do I even want to cry? This is so stupid. I have nothing to cry about. I just miss my friends, right?

  They’re off meeting all these interesting new people, getting to do pas de deux and learn all these cool dances and I’m stuck here with the boys, trying to fill up the days of nothing with meaningless time killers. I suppose it hasn’t been nothing, the training sessions with JJ have been fun, I’m probably in the best shape I’ve ever been in, the definition in my arm muscles is pretty amazing.

  JJ called them Michelle Obama arms. Which is badass.

  So why am I so upset? What am I even upset about?

  I ignore the voice in the back of my head that desperately wants to know which mysterious person JJ has a crush on. It’s not me, so why does it matter? My little crush on her doesn’t change the fact that she has to be interested in someone way cooler and smarter than me.

  Not wanting to be in my own head anymore, I pull out my phone to distract myself. For a split second. I wish I had some kind of homework to do, something that I needed to get done so that I was forced to stop thinking the same things over and over again. But only for a second, I don’t really want to do homework.

  Unlocking my phone, I ignore all the notifications and start scrolling through my apps, looking for something to keep my attention. A soft knock sounds on my door before it opens to admit my mom. “Mija?”

  I pat the bed beside me and scoot over to make room for her. “Hi Mom.” She sits down next to me, holding up her arm for me to curl under. Yes, I’m sixteen and I still cuddle with my mom. It’s our thing, you can’t shame me into not enjoying it. When I was little, this was our nightly ritual, after my brothers were in bed, my mom would come sit on the bed with me, cuddled up. At first she would read me a story or two before tucking me in and saying goodnight, but as I got older it started to become the easiest time to talk, just the two of us. Two women in this house full of testosterone.

  I don’t know if any of my friends realize how much of their lives my mom knows from our late-night chats, or how much of my advice for them is really from her, from the good advice she gives me to pass along. “I noticed Cole has been much more cheerful the last couple of days.”

  I sigh, of course, she wants to talk about my brothers. I shouldn’t be upset, our chats have always included comparing notes on the boys, but tonight, I’m tired of being in everybody’s shadow.

  “Yeah,” I hedge, not sure how much my mom knows. She always finds ways to get our secrets out of us. It’s magic. “He was telling me about some of his teammates the other day.”

  “Me too. I met that Marcus boy after one of their games. I didn’t like him.”

  I smile, it sounds like she may know almost as much as me.

  “Yeah.” I flex my bicep. “He better hope he never meets me and my new guns in a dark alley.” Getting a laugh from my mom is the best. So many of my best jokes have been met with a smile, even though her eyes sparkle in amusement, getting a full laugh from her is an accomplishment. “Did he tell you about Henry?”

  Her chest lifts and drops in a sad sigh under my head. “Yes. I hope that they can reconnect. I told him that his Henry would always be welcome here.” She squeezes me tight. “All my children are always welcome in my home, no matter what. We have space. And if we run out of space, we can make more space.”

  “I’m going to miss him when he goes back to school,” I say, knowing my mom feels the same way.

  “Me too, Mija. Me too.” We sit in silence for a long moment before she speaks again. “It’s been a long summer for you without Lisa and Hannah here. Do you miss them?”

  How does she read my mind like that? Silent, I nod my head against her. “It’s been cool hanging out with the boys so much, but yeah. I miss them.”

  “You’ve had JJ and Olivia. But it’s not the same, right?”

  “Right.” She doesn’t say anything, so I keep talking. “It’s been fun trying something new, something that’s not ballet. I like all the training with JJ. But then, once I went back to class again this week, I realized how much I loved doing that too.”

  “You can love more than one thing.” My mom’s voice is gentle. “You don’t have to do one or the other. You can do both.”

  Her words explode like a bomb in my mind. Is it that simple? That I can just do both? I can workout like I did with JJ because it feels good? And I can also dance and enjoy class and seeing my friends, because it f
eels good too?

  “You don’t think that Hannah and Lisa would be mad at me? We weren’t exactly nice to Olivia when she joined the cheer squad.” Thinking back to how we’d excluded Olivia from the group isn’t pleasant. I know things are fine now, but I’m still ashamed of how I treated her.

  My mom strokes my hair for a moment, her fingers soothing away my worries. “I think you’ve all grown up a bit since then, yes? I don’t think they would be mad at you. None of you are the same people you were six months ago. I think you should give your friends more credit than that. True friends will be happy for you as long as you’re happy.”

  “I don’t want to quit dance.” I need to make sure she understands that. “I don’t want you to think you wasted your money or anything all those years.”

  “Mija, it made you happy, that’s all that matters.” My mom chuckles. “We don’t expect your brothers to be professional football players or basketball players do we? Those are the things that made you who you are, our wonderful children. They taught you things that are important, they gave you friendships that have changed your life. All this is true, right?”

  “Of course Mom. But—”

  “You’ve never said you wanted to be a dancer. So, what do you think you want to do?” I’m surprised by my mom’s next words. “I saw that you weren’t very interested in the dance programs when we toured the colleges. If not dance, then what are you thinking?”

  “Physical therapy, maybe,” I say quickly. “Maybe. I’m not sure. It’s a lot of school.”

  Mom squeezes my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. “I think that would be wonderful, if that’s what you want. You’ve seen your brothers and your friends get injured, I can see you being very good at it one day. But you don’t have to decide today.”

  “Thanks Mom.”

  She squeezes me once more before swinging her legs off the side of my bed. “Goodnight, love you.”

  “Love you too.”