The Hit List

by Nikki Urang

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He runs a hand through his hair again, clearly frustrated with me. His hair stays pushed back away from his face this time. “Do you trust me?”

  I stare at him, my jaw tightening as his brow creases. “No.”

  “That’s how we fix this. If you won’t open yourself up to any kind of relationship with me, then it’s no wonder you can’t trust me.” He takes a step closer to me.

  A humorless laugh escapes my lips. “I don’t want any kind of relationship with you.”

  “You already have one. We’re partners.”

  He’s right and nothing I can do is going to get me a new partner at this point. I have to at least try to work with him. I’ll regret it if I don’t.

  “I’ll try to dance with you, but I don’t want to be anything more with you than partners.”

  I can handle this. I can control my own emotions. I can make sure this partnership doesn’t turn out like my last one. After all, not every partnership leads to a romantic relationship. People dance together all the time without feelings getting involved.

  I’ll dance with Luke. I’ll even give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that he isn’t playing the game. He’s just a flirt. He doesn’t want anything from me and all I want from him is a partnership to get me to Fall Showcase and London.

  As long as I remember that, I should be fine.

  Sleep is my enemy.

  I thrash against my blankets for the third time in the last ten minutes. I don’t know why I’m even bothering anymore. It’s just after midnight and I should have been asleep hours ago, but now the only thing I can focus on is how I need to be up in five hours to be at rehearsal on time.

  Brielle is fast asleep in her bed on the other side of the room and I’m careful not to wake her as I grab my iPod and shoes. I don’t waste time changing clothes. I’m already in shorts and a tank top and for what I have planned, it’s perfect. Stepping outside our room, I slide on my flip-flops and walk down to the lobby. I don’t care that we have a ten o’clock curfew. No one’s out here to catch me.

  Back home when I couldn’t sleep, I would sneak out to the fire escape and work on my technique. Barre exercises set to the tune of New York City traffic are the most relaxing things in the world. It won’t be the same here, but it might help me fall asleep.

  The steady hum of cars from the freeway drifts into the open space. I turn on the music and the opening piano notes from “Clair de Lune” take over my senses. Using the brick wall as a barre, I fall into the comfortable rhythm of the exercises I mastered years ago and have committed to muscle memory.

  The moonlight reflects off the now-still water in the fountain and onto the grass in front of me. The hustle and bustle from the city has gone indoors for the night. I’m alone. It’s peaceful in the darkness, and I can pretend like I don’t have a million things to worry about.

  It’s been so long since I’ve danced just for me. I walk out onto a patch of grass next to the fountain and slip off my shoes. Tucking my iPod into the jogging strap wrapped around my bicep, I start to dance.

  It’s freeing. My tension falls away as I focus on pointing my feet at every opportunity or pulling up into a deliberate flex with my knee bent to break my lines. I pull myself into a pirouette. Blades of grass break beneath my foot from the friction.

  I step out into an arabesque penchée and grab my leg behind me with my right hand to pull it up. My left arm stays in front of me for balance. I close my eyes, reveling in the tingles in my hip as I push myself just past my flexibility.

  The foot I’m standing on grips the grass and dirt beneath me, but I’m facing down a slight incline and I can feel my body slightly shift forward as my muscles work to keep me upright. It’s hard to catch myself in this position and I fight with my balance to stay standing.

  A breeze floats through the courtyard, tickling my face with my hair. I shiver against the sensation. My center of balance shifts and I’m forced to let go of my leg so I don’t face plant on the lawn. My right leg lowers a little to balance out my body as my right arm falls forward.

  A flash of movement in front of me catches my attention before two strong hands grip mine and hold me up. I look up to see Luke, his hands still firmly clasped around mine to keep me from falling. I drop my leg behind me and he lets go of my left hand. He raises the other one above us both and twirls me.

  “Where did you come from?” I watch him, but he doesn’t say a word.

  He pulls the ear buds from my ears and removes my iPod, tossing it onto the grass a few feet away from us. Without missing a beat, he continues to lead me through the choreography we’d learned during audition week. It wasn’t designed to be a partner dance, but it works when Luke makes the changes. And even though we fumble through some of the steps and transitions because he’s improvising as we go, it’s okay. For this moment, I can forget about everything else that’s happened between us. In this moment, I just dance.

  The eight count in my head becomes our music. His hand travels down my arm and onto my cheek as he takes a step closer to me. His thumb swipes across my cheekbone as my hands find his waist, silently pleading with him to stay.

  He steps past me. His hand moves to my neck and I lean backward to stay close to him, to maintain contact. His hand lowers with me and he holds me up by the back of my neck, my torso and thighs parallel to the ground. I rise up onto the balls of my feet. My toes dig into the dirt. Arching my back, I roll up to a standing position and turn to face him again.

  His hand finds mine when he turns toward me and with his fingers threaded through mine, he pushes me back once again until my hair brushes the grass beneath me. Pulling me forward, he leans toward me and I jump to wrap my legs around him. My arms lock behind his neck and I curl my body as close to him as I can. His arms close briefly around my back before he straightens them out behind me. My legs fall and my body uncoils as I hang off him, his arms under mine. He holds me off the ground, but flat against his chest. Slowly, I feel his arms close around me again.

  He holds me for longer than the dance allows, and I take it as a cue that we’re done. But he doesn’t release me. I stay suspended in his arms as time passes us by in the moonlit courtyard. He watches me, barely far away enough to move his face in front of mine.

  I glance down at his lips. I want him to close the distance, but he doesn’t. His eyes never leave mine as the rise and fall of our chests slow, never saying a word, never breaking the moment. I can feel his heart beat against my skin. It stutters and I know he feels exactly the same way.

  I can’t feel this way about him. And as if my body has suddenly caught up with my mind, my heart races for a whole different reason. We’re not supposed to be like this, not close to each other, not like we’re more than partners. He notices as my body stiffens. His hands slide down to my waist and he sets me back on the ground.

  “I told you we could make this work.” His eyes sparkle with pride.

  My mind is clearer without his body pressed up against mine. Half a dance doesn’t mean anything. It definitely doesn’t mean I can trust him. Out of everyone here, if he gets the opportunity to step out of his parents’ shadow, he’ll take it without a second thought.

  I take a step away from him, letting the cool air wash over my slick skin. “We can’t dance together, Luke.” I sound breathless.

  He shakes his head, a sad smile breaking on his lips. “We just did.”

  He walks away from me, never giving me a backward glance, leaving me alone in the cold moonlight with an empty heart.

  8

  Miss Catherine looks up from her computer, her piercing eyes staring through me. I’m not in the mood to be scared of her today and I stare back passively. The only thing that’s been on my mind this morning is dancing with Luke.

  I’ve never been this tense. Dancing with Luke had taken some of the stress away for a little while. Even though I won’t admit it to him, we danced amazingly last night. It co
nfuses me.

  I shouldn’t be able to dance that way with Luke. The only other person I could do that with was Patrick, but I had a connection with Patrick. I try to ignore it and call it something else, but maybe I have that connection with Luke, too.

  No. I can’t have that with Luke. I can’t have that with anyone.

  “I’m sure you’re aware you’re here to master your talent. I shouldn’t have to remind you that attending class is the best way to do that,” Miss Catherine says.

  I’m not in the mood to keep my attitude in check. “In all fairness, there was a reason I requested Adam as my partner. I have issues dancing with people. That’s why I haven’t been doing it.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “You will partner with whomever this school deems is the best partner for you. If you don’t like it, you’re free to leave. Do you want to leave, Ms. Bryant?”

  She knows I don’t. I take a deep breath. I can’t be rude. I’ll get myself thrown out of school.

  “No.”

  “Good. You need to work on your discipline. Your dancing will improve greatly.”

  “Okay.” I have discipline. I’d like to see her show some restraint after dealing with her son and being up all night.

  “I’m pulling you and Luke out of your other classes today to make up your missed practice yesterday. Miss Tasha and Brandon had to rearrange their schedules for this, so you should make sure to thank them.”

  I stare at the wall next to me. “Fine. Can I go?”

  She waves a hand at me to dismiss me from her office.

  “One more thing.”

  I turn back around to face her and she looks up from her desk.

  “Lose the attitude, Ms. Bryant. It doesn’t suit you and it will get you nowhere in this business.”

  I smile bitterly at her, wrench open the door, and stalk out of her office.

  Rehearsal will be hell with the mood I’m in. I don’t want to put up with anyone at the moment, least of all Luke.

  Luke stands ten feet away from the door of the studio and smiles when he sees my expression. “Looks like you had a nice chat.”

  “Shut up.” I don’t bother to wait for him as I walk toward the studio. I would settle for taking out my anger on him instead of his mother, but it’s probably best if I don’t. As long as he doesn’t push me, I should be fine. Which means it’ll probably take less than ten minutes for me to snap at him.

  He runs to catch up to me. “I know she’s not the nicest sometimes, but she really does know what she’s talking about.”

  I whirl around on him and he has to step to the side to keep from running into me. “Were you eavesdropping?” It’s bad enough that I have to spend most of my time with him, but he doesn’t need to know everything that’s going on with me—especially when it involves me getting scolded by his mother.

  His eyes widen with terror. “No, I just assumed she said something you didn’t want to hear since you stormed out of her office.”

  I take a deep breath. I need to get away from everyone right now, but I can’t. I need to practice or I’ll get in more trouble. I’d rather dance with Luke than get called to Miss Catherine’s office again. “Let’s just get this rehearsal over with.”

  Miss Tasha and Brandon are already in the studio when we arrive. Brandon smiles at us, but Miss Tasha looks annoyed that she has to be here.

  It only takes fifteen minutes of warm-ups for Tasha to start in on us.

  “Okay, this is how it’s going to work. You two,” she points at us, “have royally pissed me off with your issues. I don’t have time for it. You don’t either if you have any hopes of making it through tryouts.” She looks between the two of us until we nod. Her hands find their place on her hips. If she’s already starting that then it’s going to be one hell of a practice.

  “We missed one practice. We’re fine,” Luke says.

  She takes a deep breath, like she’s trying to forget she heard him, before she continues. “You’re going to stay in this room until you figure your shit out. If either of you leave before rehearsal is over, I will make sure you don’t have a chance in hell of making Fall Showcase. And you can kiss London goodbye. Do I make myself clear?” Her fingers drum against her hip bones.

  I hope we can avoid rehearsals like this in the future.

  “Crystal.” I’m starting to wonder if they put something in the water here to make everyone a raging bitch.

  She stares at us for a couple seconds, like she’s trying to be intimidating, before she turns around and motions for Brandon to come over to her. “You have fifteen minutes to warm up before we start on choreography,” she says, looking back at us.

  I glare at her back. Her stare isn’t intimidating. It’s annoying.

  Luke grabs my hand and pulls me toward the center of the room. “If we dance like we did last night, there won’t be any issues.”

  Patrick touches my hand. It doesn’t hold the warmth it once did. We’re not dating anymore. We’re not partners. We might as well be strangers.

  I pull my hand away from him. He doesn’t even have the decency to look hurt by it.

  I rip my hand away from Luke instinctively, not even aware I’ve done it until I see the hurt in his eyes.

  “Sorry.” I say it more out of habit than anything else. I don’t actually mean it, but I’m glad I said it because his face relaxes. It’s going to be hard enough to do this without me making it worse.

  He points at my arm. “That’s what Miss Tasha is talking about. We need to fix that.”

  “I don’t know how to fix that.” I don’t know how many times I have to tell him.

  “That’s a lie. You did it last night.”

  I know it’s a lie. Somehow dancing with him last night made me drop the wall around my emotions. Somehow he made me feel something for him that I had no intention of feeling. He flirts with every girl in this damn school. I can’t like him. “That was an accident.”

  Brandon stops his conversation with Miss Tasha. “I’m sorry, does talking help you warm up?” He waits for one of us to say something. “I didn’t think so.”

  Dick. Adam might be right about Brandon.

  “I have an idea,” Luke whispers.

  I watch as he pushes the chairs back up against the wall and moves the barre out of the middle of the room. I have no idea what he’s doing, but I don’t like where this is going.

  He reaches his hand out to me. “Get up.”

  I glance over at Miss Tasha. She watches us curiously, but she doesn’t say anything. Luke’s hand is still in front of me. I stand up without touching him.

  He frowns and drops his hand. “We’ll start small.”

  I don’t trust anything about what he’s doing, but I’m almost curious about what he wants to try. I should probably feel flattered that he hasn’t given up on me yet, but I’m starting to feel like a project.

  Luke holds out his hand. “This is how you learn to trust me. Take it when you’re ready.”

  I hesitate for a few seconds before I slide my hand into his.

  His fingers thread through mine and he grins down at me. “Good,” he says.

  He’s treating me like a child and it’s more than a little frustrating, even though he’s not doing it to annoy me. He wants to make this partnership work.

  The only way that’s going to happen is if I allow myself to let go, to trust someone. I did it last night, but I have no idea how. I’ve held onto the idea that I’m on my own for so long now, I don’t know how to change it.

  Luke leads me up to the mirror. He pulls me in front of him and steps behind me to take the position at the beginning of our routine. He drops my hand and stands with his arms at his sides. I watch his body to figure out what he’s doing.

  “Look at me.”

  My eyes snap to his in the mirror.

  “I promise you I will never hurt you. I will never make you do anything you don’t want to do. All you need to do is say the word and we’ll stop everything, but you h
ave to believe it’s going to be okay.”

  I’m at the edge of a cliff. The only way down is to take a step off the edge. That step is a blinding free fall, full of terror and panic and waiting for the second the parachute opens to save me before I crash into the rocks below.

  Luke is trying to show me another way. A slower descent with footholds that require me to trust him, believe that he knows what he’s doing and he won’t let me fall, that he won’t hurt me.

  I close my eyes and brace myself for a crash landing as I take the first step. “Okay.”

  He smiles at me. “I want you to step backward so you’re right in front of me. Just like yesterday.”

  I desperately want this to work. I want to be able to dance with a partner again because I know I do my best when I have someone else on stage with me. I don’t break eye contact as I nod my head. “Okay.” My voice is small and I clear my throat, hoping it will help.

  There’s no turning back from this. As soon as I take that step, I’m telling him my trust is building. As much as I keep telling myself I can keep the two separate, I can’t. Some part of me has to trust him if I have any hopes of making it here.

  Miss Tasha watches us silently from the front of the room, Brandon by her side. I tune her out. It’s unnerving the way she doesn’t take her eyes off of us.

  I step backward until I’m almost touching Luke. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, and then move closer so that my back presses flat against his chest and stomach.

  “When you’re ready, put my hand on your stomach,” he says, raising his hand in front of me and watching my reaction in the mirror.

  “Okay.” I feel confident. I can totally do this. I can overcome this.

  His chest rises and falls against my back in even breaths. He’s not in a hurry. I take his hand in both of mine and slowly bring it to my stomach. His palm is warm against my bare skin. My muscles tense for a couple seconds before they relax. I stare down at his hand. My own hands cover most of his and he threads his pinkie through two of my fingers. I meet his gaze in the mirror as a slow smile spreads across his face. I can’t help my matching smile.