The Hit List

by Nikki Urang

  “I’m sure she did.”

  He watches me for a few seconds in silence. I study the room around me. I don’t know why I’m afraid to meet his stare, but I am.

  His phone vibrates against the floor and we both turn to look at it. He picks it up and swipes his finger across the screen. His smile slowly falls until he’s frowning at his phone. The muscles in his arm clench as his grip on his phone tightens. If he squeezes any harder, he’s going to break it.

  “I have to go.” His eyes stay glued to the screen.

  “Um, yeah, okay. I should go, too.” I don’t know who pissed him off so much, but I’m not so sure I want to find out. I’m just glad it wasn’t me.

  He lifts his head up and his face relaxes as soon as his eyes meet mine. A small smile returns. “Well, Sadie Bryant, I’m off to enjoy the sunshine. Have a good weekend.” He jumps up to his feet and grabs his bag. “Don’t work too hard.”

  “See you Monday.”

  I don’t want him to go, but I don’t know how to ask him to stay.

  He disappears through the door as I gather my things. I walk through the empty halls. If I’d asked Luke to wait for me, maybe he would have walked me back to my dorm.

  And then what? It’s not like I like him or he likes me. We talked for like two minutes in a dance studio. It means nothing.

  I push through the door of my dorm room. Brielle sits at her desk with her computer open in front of her. She swivels in her chair to look at me.

  “I have good news and bad news,” she says. Her face is neutral. Apparently both options aren’t that exciting.

  I throw my dance bag onto my bed. Her news probably doesn’t even apply to me, but I humor her anyway. “Okay.”

  She jumps onto her bed. “It’s Saturday and we don’t have class for another two days.”

  I raise an eyebrow at her and dig through my bag to find my clothes. They’ll start to smell if I leave them in here until Monday. “I’m guessing that’s the good news.”

  “Yeah. The bad news is that you’re a target in the sex game.”

  I drop my bag. It thunks loudly onto the floor. “I’m sorry, what?” I didn’t hear her right. There’s no way she just said that.

  “Lots of people are voting for you. So that’s good news or bad news depending on how you take it.”

  “What?” I trip over my bag on my way to her computer. My hand comes down against the top of her desk so I don’t fall on my face.

  The Conservatory blog is open on her computer. The newest post fills most of the screen. She scrolls down to show me my name. She’s listed a few spaces above me.

  “What the hell? Aren’t you mad about this? You’re on there, too.” I scan over the screen. It has to be some kind of sick joke. I never did anything to deserve something like this. Who would do that?

  “Hell yeah, I’m mad about it. Some jackass just posted my name all over the internet so people can decide how many points having sex with me is worth.” She shuts her computer and turns toward me.

  “Who do you think did it?” I’ve only met a handful of people at this school, but I can’t picture any of them doing this.

  She opens the top drawer of her dresser and pulls out a tank top and some shorts. “It’s not like we don’t have plenty of options. Most of the guys here are dicks. I could see any of them doing it.”

  Obviously someone at The Conservatory has the balls to put this game out there. I wish there was a way I could somehow remove myself from it, but I know that will never happen.

  “I’m going to go see if a studio is free.” Brielle glances back at me as she swings her bag over her head and rests it across her chest. She chews on her lip.

  I know she wants to say something and I’d rather she just do it. “What?”

  She shrugs. “I wouldn’t get involved with any of the guys around here if I were you.”

  I guess it’s a good thing I already made that decision before I ever set foot in L. A.

  Monday morning comes too quickly. I can barely get out of bed. Every inch of my body hurts as I stretch to loosen my muscles. Fire shoots through my aching and overworked limbs. This is what happens when I push myself too hard.

  Today will be hell.

  I stare at the ceiling and debate emailing Miss Catherine to tell her I’m sick. That way I can avoid this whole partner thing and the entire male student body who may or may not be trying to have sex with me for points. Maybe I’ll sleep the whole day. I relax back against my pillow. Sleep sounds so much better than leaving this room.

  Brielle walks in with a towel on her head. “Morning. Are you ready for partner assignments?” She sounds excited.

  “I don’t really have a choice.” It’s going to happen whether I’m there or not. There’s no escaping it.

  She frowns. “No, I guess not.”

  I slide out of bed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Standing in front of the mirror, I pile my hair on top of my head and swipe on enough makeup to make it look like I’m not exhausted.

  Brielle looks like she’s about to start skipping down the hallway on the way to class. She has enough energy for the both of us. Too bad she can’t transfer some of her excitement to me.

  Luke stands in the hallway outside the studio. He talks to a girl I recognize as one of the music students who was singing at the fundraiser on Friday. I slow my pace. Brielle slows beside me and I can see her glancing between Luke and me out of the corner of my eye.

  Nerves twist my stomach as I consider whether I should say something to him when I walk past. It would be rude to pretend like I didn’t even see him when I have to walk right by him.

  Oh my God, I’m completely over-thinking this. I can say hi.

  “Hey, Luke.”

  He doesn’t answer me. Maybe he didn’t hear me. It’s not like I yelled it and he is distracted with another conversation. I open my mouth to say it again, but his gaze flicks up to mine briefly. Annoyance flashes in his eyes.

  Wow. Apparently I was wrong.

  Brielle huffs beside me and grabs my arm. “Whatever you’re thinking, just stop. I heard he was playing that game last year, anyway. You don’t want to get involved.”

  I walk through the door to the studio with Brielle, ignoring Luke and the music student. It’s not like I needed him anyway. This just reaffirms my position on the whole stick-to-myself thing. If I don’t open myself up to getting hurt, it can’t happen.

  I sit down next to Brielle and Adam and pull out my water bottle. It’s empty. Dammit.

  The water fountain is just outside the door in the hallway. I hold the bottle under the steady stream of water. Luke is still out here, but he’s talking to a group of guys now instead of the music girl.

  “She’s definitely a hit. I bet she’s worth a ton of points, too. If you don’t do it, I will.”

  What the hell?

  They’re part of that disgusting game. No wonder he looked annoyed when I said hi. He was probably trying to arrange his next hit.

  I can’t believe I thought he might be a decent person. He’s just another asshole like Patrick. He might even be worse. At least Patrick had some regard for other people before things ended between us.

  I don’t want anything to do with Luke.

  I walk back into the studio and sit down next to Brielle, shoving my bag against the wall.

  A frown creases her forehead. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I don’t want to talk about this here. Especially since I know he’ll be walking in the door any second and I know how much she hates him. We don’t need a bunch of drama before class starts.

  “You aren’t allowed to be crabby, Little Miss I-Got-Into-All-The-Advanced-Classes,” Brielle says, pointing at me. “You should be ecstatic.”

  I frown. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

  Her face falls. “It’s a huge deal for a freshman. It’s a huge deal for me and I’m a sophomore.”

  When they emailed class a
ssignments, I’d been over the moon. It was enough for me to get into The Conservatory, but getting into the advanced classes was only going to help my career.

  Luke opens the door and his eyes meet mine. I look down at the floor, but it’s too late. He heads straight toward us. I don’t look up again, but I can feel him standing over me.

  “Hey, Sadie.”

  Now he wants to talk? Absolutely not. I don’t play that game. I won’t talk to him only when it’s convenient for him. And I definitely won’t give him the opportunity to use me and dump me so he can get some stupid points.

  I ignore him and focus on my stretching. He stands next to me awkwardly for a couple seconds before he moves to an empty spot on the other side of the room.

  “What was that about?” Brielle doesn’t look at me. Her face is against the floor as she stretches.

  “Nothing.”

  Usually I have no problem shutting out everything else and focusing on dance during rehearsal. But today the only thing I can think about is how I’ve ended up on that fucking list.

  There’s no way Luke’s little act at the fundraiser on Friday wasn’t a way to try to get me to sleep with him. Pretend to be nice, pretend to have fun, pretend to be interested. He doesn’t give a shit about me. I’m just another point value.

  The longer I’m in class, the angrier I get. If this is what I’ll be dealing with all semester long, how am I supposed to dance with a partner? How will I be able to have any kind of chemistry with someone if all I’m worried about is how many points they’re trying to get?

  There’s no one at this school I’ll be able to successfully dance with. That means I’ll end up without a spot in Fall Showcase. And if I can’t show them I’m getting better, I can kiss London goodbye.

  That can’t happen. I won’t let it. I need Fall Showcase to prove to myself that my career isn’t over after my injury. After Patrick.

  Adam crosses the floor in front of me, his extensions amazing as usual.

  Maybe I could partner with Adam. He’s not wrapped up in this stupid game. He thinks it’s just as bad as I do. And it’s not like he would be trying to have sex with me anyway.

  Class ends and I find myself walking alone to my next one. Brielle leans against the wall down the hallway talking to one of the music students. She glances up at me and I wave. She says something to the boy and walks over to me.

  “Did you just give him your number?” I ask, unable to hide my smile.

  She frowns, getting defensive. “Maybe. Why? Is that a crime?”

  That’s got to be the third boy I’ve seen her flirting with since this weekend. “How many guys are you going to date at once?”

  “Who said anything about dating them?” She smiles.

  I don’t get how she can be so carefree about this. “You realize they’re probably just after your points, right?”

  She shrugs. “I can’t take my name off the list. Might as well have some fun with it. Besides, not every guy in this school is involved with that game. There have to be some good ones.”

  Brielle links arms with me and we walk toward the next studio of the day. I’m about to follow her in, but an arm hooks around my waist and pulls me off to the side of the door.

  “Why are you ignoring me?” Luke pins me against the wall with his arms on either side of me. “It makes me feel like you don’t like me and I know that’s not true.”

  He’s close to me, but he’s not actually touching me. It strikes me as odd. Other guys who have flirted with me usually touch my arm or my face, making me extremely uncomfortable. Luke knows next to nothing about me, but he seems to read some of my signals. Maybe he’s more perceptive than I thought.

  “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  He takes a step closer to me and I step back into the wall. I’m trapped between brick and Luke.

  His breath is on my cheek when he speaks again. “I just want to know why. I know you feel the connection between us. You can’t deny it.”

  “You’re a dick.”

  I have no doubt he’s making a second attempt to earn points for me, but the good times are hard to ignore. He’s not always like this. He was decent in the studio and at the fundraiser. If he could just pick a mood and go with it, my life would be so much easier. It doesn’t seem like such a bad idea to be his friend when he actually talks to me.

  The war rages inside me. I want fight or flight to take over, but there’s a third option in this scenario— surrender.

  His lips hover centimeters over my mouth and his shadow weighs on me like he’s pressed against my body. He leans one forearm against the wall next to my head. His other hand remains flat against the wall above my shoulder.

  My thoughts jumble together in my mind. I need to get away from here, away from him.

  But my heart won’t let go.

  Part of me wants to be this close to him. The smell of his cologne mixes with the smell of sweat from the studios. I chose to leave my past behind when I left New York. I want to start over, but if he’s only after me for this game, it won’t be a fresh start. It’ll be a replay of the pain I’ve already experienced. Except it’ll be worse.

  I stay—physically locked by his arms, mentally locked by his gaze, confused about what I want and what I should do. He sighs and closes his eyes. His lips graze my temple and then his breath is on my ear.

  “I won’t kiss you while you’re attached to someone else, but do me a favor?” he asks, a smile playing at his lips.

  “What?” My voice wavers, a combination of panic and attraction.

  “Tell your boyfriend he’s got competition.”

  He pushes off the wall and walks into the studio. I’m frozen against the brick. He’s confusing as hell. If my interactions with him were a little more consistent, I wouldn’t feel like I’m in a constant state of whiplash.

  I don’t understand his reaction. One minute he’s ignoring me, the next he’s got me cornered in the hallway asking why I’m ignoring him. None of this makes any sense.

  Brielle sticks her head out of the door and stares at me. “Are you coming to class?”

  I nod, staring at the opposite wall. “Yeah.” I pull myself off the wall and follow her inside.

  A double-sided portable barre stands in the middle of the room, ready for our technique class. I drop my bag under the barre and sit down next to Brielle to put on my pointe shoes, trying to shut out the world and focus on the next three hours.

  I need to be strong. I’m officially on my own, and the only one who can ensure my success is me. I’ll be so proud if I can make it through this, but it’s hard to see November right now when I’m stuck in September.

  Adam stops in front of the door to the studio and Brielle waves. Rachel pushes in through the doorway, hip checking him out of her way. He flips her off as she walks away from him.

  Rachel stops beside me. “This is my spot.”

  “I’m sorry.” I pick up my bag to move to another section of the barre. I don’t feel like fighting with Rachel. It’s easier to give her what she wants.

  Brielle grabs my bag and throws it back on the floor. “Um, no. You know spots aren’t assigned, and Sadie was here first. You’ll have to find another spot.”

  I stare between the two of them. I don’t care, but I don’t want to get caught in a fight between Brielle and Rachel.

  Rachel narrows her eyes. “You know this is the spot I used last year. You took these spots on purpose because you don’t like me. It’s not my fault Luke picked me over you.”

  I bite my lip and stare down at the floor. It figures that out of all the people in this school, I managed to worm my way in between these two and unwillingly joined Brielle’s side in their battle against each other. Luke isn’t even worth fighting over.

  “Pick your battles.” Patrick shoves a sweatshirt into his bag.

  Is that what I am? A battle?

  “Was it hard for you to pick NYBC over me? Because it seemed like you had a pretty easy time making th
at fucking decision.”

  This is unbelievable. He can’t seriously tell me not to start this fight. I wasn’t even the one who started it in the first place. He did the second he accepted NYBC’s offer and left me in the dust.

  He walks past me without looking at me. “Knock it off. You’re acting like a child.”

  I’ll show him acting like a child. I pick up his shoe and whip it across the studio. It hits the wall with a smack. “And you’re acting like a giant douche bag.”

  Brielle raises an eyebrow. “You sound a little paranoid. You might want to get that checked out.”

  “You’re such a bitch, Brielle.”

  My mouth drops open. I haven’t spent a lot of time with Brielle, but even I’ve learned that she’s feisty and it’s probably not a good thing to piss her off.

  Brielle glares at Rachel. “It’s a fucking barre. Get over it.”

  “It’s a fucking boy. Get over it,” Rachel throws back. She stands there awkwardly for a second before she gives up and walks to another section of the barre.

  Brielle drops to her butt in front of her own spot and sticks her legs out in front of her in a stretch, directly in Rachel’s path. Rachel’s toe hooks Brielle’s foot and she pitches forward onto the ground.

  Rachel’s hands skid out in front of her and she cries out as she makes impact. She stays on the floor for a couple seconds before she pulls herself onto her knees. She turns to Brielle, her mouth open, and I brace myself for the string of curse words to follow.

  But Adam rushes up behind her and grabs her arm to pull her up to her feet. “You should really be more careful. You don’t want to hurt yourself on the first day of real class.” He gives her a little shove away from us to get her moving again. She pauses, staring Brielle down, and for a second, I think she’s going to lunge at her. But she doesn’t and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Your friend-making skills astound me,” Adam says.

  I can’t help my smirk at his comment. It’s absolutely true.

  Brielle crosses her arms over her chest. “She started it. What are you even doing here? Last time I checked, you’re not a girl.”