Face to Face (On Pointe Book 3)

by Penelope Freed

  I peer at the two pictures. The line on the x-ray from tonight is faint but distinct. I can’t see anything on the other x-ray and say so.

  “It’s very difficult to see unless you know what you’re looking for, it’s a very common mis-diagnosis. My guess is that you’ve had a stress fracture back there for quite a while, but because it didn’t show up on the x-ray, the other therapist assumed it was a soft-tissue injury. When you kept dancing on it, that soft spot in the bone turned into a proper fracture.”

  I take a deep breath. A fracture. That’s bad. That’s really bad, right? “How long will it take to heal?” I ask at the same time my mom asks, “What’s the good news?”

  Dr. Lee smiles at us. “Well, the answer to your question Hannah is the good news. A fracture like this has a tendency to heal with less complications down the road, as long as you give it the time it needs to heal. You’ll have to be in a boot, in fact I’ll want you on crutches for a week or two, but once it’s healed, it should heal cleanly with no scar tissue. It will be a matter of building strength more than anything else. Rehabilitation from a break or a fracture can be much easier and less complicated than a sprain.”

  “How long will it take?” I ask. “Do you think I’ll be ready to come back for the fall term?”

  “You’re going to have to work with your doctor at home to determine that. Based on past experience, I’m sure they will hold your place in the fall unless it looks like it’s going to be longer to recover than anticipated. But that will be up to Mr. Bethelo and the staff to decide. My job is to weigh in on whether I think a dancer is physically healthy enough to continue in the program.”

  Immediately, determination to be ready for the fall term fills me. I may not be at one hundred percent on September first, but I’m determined to get back on my feet as soon as possible. “I’ll be ready. What can I do? How do I make sure I’m healing as fast as possible?”

  “For starters, you’re going to be honest with your doctor at home about what kind of pain you’re feeling.” Dr. Lee glares at me. “If I’d had a chance to look at these x-rays before I saw you last night, I might have made a different decision. I definitely wouldn’t have believed your stoic expression when you insisted you weren’t hurting.”

  Dr. Lee turns to my parents. “Do you know a good sports medicine practitioner back home? Someone familiar with dancers?”

  “Oh yes,” Mom answers. “Her dance teacher is married to one. All our girls go to him.”

  “Oh? What’s his name?” Dr. Lee looks curious.

  “Michael Brooks. He’s married to Leslie Parker.”

  At the mention of Ms. Parker’s name Dr. Lee’s face clears. “Oh, I’ve heard wonderful things about how he helped her. Well, that makes me feel much better, knowing she’ll be in good hands back home.”

  Dr. Lee has the urgent care nurse get me set up with a boot and crutches before I follow my parents out of the exam room, struggling to coordinate getting through the door with my added accessories. Trevor jumps up from one of the chairs in the waiting room as we emerge.

  “Hey, do you need help?” He reaches for me, unsure of what to do or how to help.

  “I’m fine.” I grunt when one of my crutches hits a chair as I swing it forward.

  “So?”

  My parents are with the receptionist dealing with the insurance billing so I go to sit down.

  “It’s a fracture. Dr. Lee thinks there was probably a stress fracture there the whole time, but when I didn’t stop dancing it developed into a full one.” Trevor sits next to me, taking my hand in his. I haven’t been alone with him since everything happened last night. I haven’t even had a chance to tell him about Dr. Lee’s visit or being invited to come back in the fall.

  “The doctor couldn’t tell when she checked you out last night?”

  I freeze at his words.

  I never told Trevor about Dr. Lee paying me a visit last night. “Did Lisa say something to you?”

  “No. I only saw her when we were getting you from backstage. Why?”

  A sick feeling slides through me. All this time I was blaming one of the other dancers for ratting me out.

  I turn to look him in the eye, praying that my suspicions are wrong. Please be wrong. “Are you the one who called the front office about my injury?”

  My face must give away the fury that’s boiling inside me because Trevor goes pale. “Um.” He swallows. “I was worried about you,” he says so quietly I almost miss it.

  “I told you I had it under control,” I hiss back. “How could you do that to me?”

  Now it’s Trevor’s turn to be angry. “Well, obviously you didn’t have it under control, did you? You were dancing on a fracture waiting to happen. What part of that is under control?” His normally warm voice crackles with ice.

  “That wasn’t your decision to make, Trevor.” I can’t stop myself from growling at him. “It’s not your life, it’s not your dream, it’s not your body. You don’t get to make that kind of decision for me.”

  “I thought…”

  “You thought what? That you’d tell the front office and they’d magically make it better? Tell me to be careful? Do you know what really would have happened?” I lower my voice when I catch my mom looking over her shoulder at us. “You almost cost me the chance to do Black Swan, to do a solo. To guarantee my spot here in the fall.”

  Trevor’s eyes go wide at my words. “A spot here in the fall?”

  I don’t want to make him feel better. He betrayed me by going to the front office like that. What if they hadn’t let me dance? Sure, I was hurting now, and this fracture sucks, but at least I had a chance to perform tonight. At least I got the thrill of being on stage, of doing what I love best, and doing it well, before it happened.

  “Yeah, Trevor. They offered me a spot in the fall. No thanks to your meddling. You could have made them rethink it, you know. No one wants to deal with a helicopter parent…or boyfriend.” I can’t let go of the anger. The betrayal that he thought he knew my own body better than I do cuts deep. If I know anything, I know my body. I know what it can do and what it can’t.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” My mom hurries over as my voice gets louder and louder. “You ready to go home?”

  “Yeah. I’m done here.” I say, my heart cracking at the double meaning of my words.

  Trevor must hear it in my voice because he looks up sharply. “Done?”

  Tears fill my eyes at the pain etched on his face. “Yeah,” I whisper, pulling myself to my feet and tucking the crutches under my arms so I can follow my parents out the door. “We’re done.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Trevor

  No. No, no, no, no, no, no. That can’t be it.

  My heart in my throat, Hannah limps away from me, her head bowed under the weight of her words. Her beautiful fire-red hair is still pulled up in a bun from her performance, exposing the long line of her throat. I’m rooted to the spot as she walks away.

  Don’t leave me.

  I wanted to help.

  You don’t understand why I was so scared.

  Let me explain.

  Come back.

  Thoughts race through my mind but for once in my life I say none of them out loud. Instead, I watch through the window as her mom helps her climb into the car, sliding the crutches in after her.

  All I wanted was to take care of her. I swear. What have I done?

  Hannah’s words rattle around in my head. She said they offered her a spot to come back in the fall. That means she’ll be here, in Seattle. A few miles from me instead of the thousand-mile distance I’ve been trying to navigate since January. Slowly, a plan forms in my mind. Where’s JARVIS when I need him?

  I’m no Tony Stark, but I’m no slouch in the brains department, I know I can come up with a plan to fix this. Because I have to fix this. Han
nah is the most amazing person I’ve ever met, I’m not going to lose her over this.

  Step one—get to California.

  Not Quite The End

  Hannah’s story concludes in Heart to Heart, available for pre-order now.

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  If you enjoyed this book, the best way to thank the author is to leave a review. Thank you!

  Acknowledgements

  I’M SORRY! I know that cliffhanger is terrible! But I’m sorry, it had to be done, Hannah and Trevor aren’t ready to get their Happily Ever After. They have a little growing up to do first. Just hang on, Heart to Heart is coming soon and hopefully will make up for the awful way I left you hanging.

  When I was planning out this series, I had a big blank next to book 3. I knew it was going to be Katy’s story, I knew what Hannah and Lisa were going to be up to. I even knew how that cliffhanger was going to play out. But Katy was holding out on me. I knew she always felt like she was in the shadow of someone—either her brothers or her friends—and I know from firsthand experience how that feels. But I didn’t know what she needed.

  It wasn’t until I got to the end of Head to Head and JJ came waltzing into the Quinn’s backyard that I knew what was going to turn Katy’s world on its head. I’m going to admit something, Katy and Cole’s story are a big middle finger to the world on behalf of everyone who’s ever been told that who they love is wrong. Love is love, and the more of it in the world the better.

  If you think that having not just one, but two, coming out stories in a YA romance is wrong, or ruins it for the genre, or makes you uncomfortable, guess what? I don’t care. And if you think that both of them being accepted by their family and friends without a second thought is unrealistic, that it’s not how the world works? Too bad. It’s how the world SHOULD work. It’s how my world works.

  It shouldn’t matter who you love as long as they treat you with kindness and respect. If you need someone to talk to or help you deal with family or friends who don’t support you, listed below are some great resources to get support.

  But know this—I see you, I love you, and you matter to me. Stay. It gets better.

  The Trevor Project:

  thetrevorproject.org

  LGBT National Youth Hotline:

  https://www.glbthotline.org/talkline.html

  PFLAG hotline links:

  https://pflag.org/hotlines

  Thanks as always to my amazing editor, Cate, you make me look good.

  Lasairiona, thank you for cheering me on when I was nervous about this book and for making me do the big scary things. And also for holding my hand while I freak out about the million tiny things.

  Norma and Patti, my amazing betas, I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry. You’ve had to wait the longest of anyone to know what happens next and you’ve borne it with utmost patience. I’ll never be able to make it up to you!

  Melissa, the best bestie in the world. Thank you for checking on me, cheering me on, and being the one to make sure I take care of myself, not just everyone around me.

  My mini-me, thank you for being my inspiration as always. I’m not ready for you to do the grown-up things. Stay little forever, please?

  And always, my #1 fan. Thank you for doing the dishes when I don’t want to, for not getting mad when I forget to put your laundry in the dryer, and for always having dinner ready on Monday nights. Love you!

  About the Author

  Penelope Freed lives in the Pacific Northwest where you can find her learning how to drive in the rain, walking her dog and making a mess in the kitchen. Her husband and daughter think she’s a little bit bonkers and really hate it when she dances embarrassingly in public.

  Which she does, often.

  After a lifetime in the ballet world, Penelope decided to start writing down the stories in her head instead of narrating her ballet classes with them—her former students are very thankful for this decision. Now, Penelope writes stories about dreamers, just like she is, who are willing to do whatever it takes to make those dreams come true.