The Hit List

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The Hit List Page 16

by Nikki Urang


  If it is, I think I’m okay with it. Honestly, it’s better than being confused about how he feels all the time.

  The song ends and I yawn, my exhaustion finally hitting me.

  Luke looks over at me. “Sorry I woke you up so early, but I wanted to take you out here today.”

  “So you really had no intention of rehearsing at all?” I’m not upset by his ulterior motives. Rehearsal gets old after a while. No matter how much we need it, we need this, too. Whatever this is.

  “No, I really did want to rehearse and I thought we’d get more in than we did. But oh well. We know the steps. That’s not what we need to be practicing anyway.”

  “Are we going somewhere to rehearse?” I turn to look at him, hoping the answer is no.

  “Not exactly.” His hand slides against the steering wheel as we come out of a turn.

  I narrow my eyes. His vague answers aren’t any help. “How far are we going?”

  “A little ways.”

  “How far is a little ways?” I ask, yawning again.

  “A couple hours.”

  A twinge of fear settles in my stomach at being so far away from everything that’s become familiar with a boy with whom I have a history of fighting I have no other way home. If he gets so pissed at me that he drives off, there’s nothing I can do. He wouldn’t do that, would he?

  “What am I supposed to do for a couple hours?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. We could talk.” He glances at me, a smile pulling at his mouth.

  “What do you want to talk about?” I’m afraid this conversation will end in a fight like so many of our others. But I’m willing to take that chance.

  “What was your favorite thing about New York?” He taps his thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

  “I loved the chaos. There was always something going on all the time. I loved that I could get out of rehearsal at ten o’clock at night on a Tuesday and this amazing little Italian place right up the block would still be open. I loved seeing all the different people all the time.” Talking about New York brings some sadness.

  He smiles at the windshield. “Do you miss it?”

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But I couldn’t stay in that city anymore knowing I could run into Patrick at any moment. The city may be huge, but we had a knack for being in the same places at the same times. The dance world is a small one.

  “Sometimes. But I chose to come here, so I can’t really complain.”

  He shrugs. “It’s okay to miss home. Even if you had to get away for a while.”

  I glance over at him, worried he’s going to expand on his thought, but he doesn’t. I change the subject before he thinks twice about it. “What about you? What do you love about L. A.?”

  “I love everything about L. A. It’s so laid back all the time. I love the beach and never really having a winter.” He looks over at me. “Plus, all my favorite people are here.”

  My face heats up under his look. He doesn’t notice because his eyes are back on the road.

  “If you had to pick between either city, which would you choose?” He pulls his sunglasses out of the collar of his shirt and throws them up on the dashboard.

  It’s no contest. L. A. would win every time. But the reasons are changing. When I left New York to get away from my old life, I didn’t anticipate creating a new life in L. A. that I would miss.

  L. A. was a means to an end. A way to find a job and make a living as a dancer. But I have friends here. And I have Luke.

  “L. A.”

  He smirks at me. “Interesting answer.”

  We spend the next couple of hours comparing the differences between L. A. and New York. I laugh at his impression of a New York accent, which sounds more like he’s in an Italian mob, but mostly I just enjoy the side of Luke I rarely get to see. The side he reveals when he’s outside of the studio and more carefree.

  “We’re almost there,” Luke says.

  We pull off the freeway into a town. Small shops line the street. The beach sits a few hundred feet behind the road and the shops. A long pier in the middle of the beach stretches out into the ocean.

  Luke parks the truck. I stare around me in awe. Wherever we are, it’s beautiful. The coast stretches through town and out onto the horizon. A couple swimmers bob in the water. A marina sits further back at the edge of the town. It’s filled with sailboats. People walk around here and there, looking in shop windows, eating ice cream at the tables outside, fishing on the pier.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  He smiles. “Avila Beach. Do you like it?”

  It reminds me of the small towns in upstate New York I used to visit with my parents in the summer. I smile at the memory. My parents were both happy then. My dad was still alive and my mom wasn’t bitter. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I come up here sometimes when I need to get out of the city. It’s usually really busy, but there’s a huge music festival going on in the next town over so there shouldn’t be too many people.”

  Luke gets out of the truck and opens the back door. He grabs a backpack and what looks like a blanket. “You coming?”

  I grin at him and jump out of the truck. The air is cooler here and I can smell the salt on the breeze. A gust of wind whips my hair around my face and I sweep it up into a ponytail, using the hair tie around my wrist to fasten it.

  We walk to the pier. Tables are set up along the edge. Some are occupied with people playing games or enjoying a cup of coffee. Luke spreads the blanket down at the end of the pier and sits down.

  My stomach twists and turns against itself in nerves. Something about this whole thing feels off and it suddenly clicks why. “This feels a lot like a date, Luke.”

  He laughs. “Sit down. If I wanted to go on a date with you, I’d ask first.”

  Which means this isn’t a date. Then what is it? I don’t know what the point of this whole thing is. We don’t need to get to know each other better at this point.

  He pulls a couple of sandwiches out of the bag and hands me one.

  “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

  He nods, swallowing a bite of his sandwich. “I even brought a sweatshirt for you for when you get cold later.”

  I scoff at him. “What makes you think I’m going to get cold?”

  “Because it gets cool when the sun goes down.”

  He must be planning to stay for a while if he’s worried about the temperature after dark. I don’t let myself dwell on it. This day is about relaxing and being away from the dance world for a while. I stare out at the crisp blue ocean and work hard to forget that tryouts are next week.

  “I don’t know how to be in a relationship.” Luke looks out at the water, almost like he’s talking to himself.

  I stare at my hands, not sure whether I should respond. He’s silent and it’s awkward. We’re not the kind of friends to divulge this kind of information to each other. We’re barely the kind of friends who spend time with each other outside of school.

  I play with a rock on the pier, tossing it between my hands. I don’t know what to say, but I can’t just not say anything. He’s expecting some kind of answer after dropping that bombshell on me.

  I knew he had commitment issues, but I’d always heard it from other people. Hearing it from him feels special somehow.

  He continues, saving me from having to come up with something to say. “I don’t know how to pretend to love you. I sleep around a lot because I can’t do relationships.” He leans back against his elbows on the pier.

  My hand twitches when he mentions sleeping around and I find myself focusing more on how many girls he’s slept with this year than on the important information he’s giving me. I watch the horizon so I don’t have to look at his face. The same sailboat drifts back and forth. For the first time today, I’m a little mad we’re not back in the city. At least there are more distractions in L. A.

  His vulnerability is back. I know it’s to help me understan
d him better, to trust him better, but it has the opposite effect. It makes me want to dive off the end of the pier to get out of the awkward situation he’s putting me in.

  He tosses the corner of his sandwich into the ocean, still not looking at me. “My career will always come before a girl, and I feel like it’s unfair to lead someone on like that. I don’t know what it’s like to be in love. Or to break-up. So it’s kind of hard for me to act like I do.”

  I’m frozen, refusing to make eye contact, my arms wrapped around my knees, just trying to remember how to breathe.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  I resist the urge to tell him the truth about New York, the reason I’m so hesitant to trust anyone. I swallow my nerves and step off the edge of the cliff with him again.

  “I thought I was in love once. Back in New York. But he did something that people in love don’t do. And it took that for me to realize I probably wasn’t in love with him. I was in love with the idea of being in love.”

  He watches me, but my eyes stay glued to the sailboat. “What happened?”

  The sailboat gets blurry as tears form in my eyes. This is it. I have to make this leap. Just like Adam said, I have to choose to trust Luke.

  “You’ve read the article, but I guess no one knows what really happened. We were dating, things were awesome. We had everything going for us. And then I got hurt when he dropped me.”

  He nods. “That was in the article.”

  I look out at the water again. I don’t like that he’s read the article. It paints me in a bad light. The injury had really bad timing and it became the sole focus. I’ve never wanted anyone to feel bad for me, especially not him. “What the article doesn’t say is how that injury was right before our final show of the year—the show the New York Ballet Company’s artistic director came to see. We were both supposed to be signed. And then I got hurt and I couldn’t dance, so I didn’t get a contract. But he did. And as soon as he was offered a spot, it was like I didn’t exist anymore.”

  “You felt abandoned.”

  I glance over at him, nodding. His eyes burn into me in a way only someone who’s felt the exact same thing can express. His mouth opens a little like he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. “It was like none of it mattered to him. He just wanted a step up in the world and he used me to get it. I never wanted to partner again after that. I won’t be someone else’s stepping-stone. That’s why it’s hard for me to trust you.”

  His hand finds mine at my side and we sit like that for a long time, silently staring out at the ocean while every thought fills my head. Thoughts of what it would be like if we were different, if we weren’t afraid of our feelings, if I wasn’t so scared all the time. We’re crossing another line just by having this conversation. Pretty soon it’s going to be hard to find our way back.

  “Why do you do it? It’s so hard for you to dance with me. You’re doing better, but you still hold back. Why stay here and continue to put yourself through that every day?”

  His thumb rubs against mine and I pull it out of his grasp to remove the sensation. I can’t think when he does that.

  “It’s been my dream to do this since I was a little girl. This is what I love. I don’t know who I am without dance.”

  Though I’m starting to get an idea. Every time he touches me, every time he lets me pull away, every time he celebrates my small victories, I’m starting to see the person I’ve become through the people I’ve met here, the person they’re helping me to be.

  A couple of kids run past us, giggling as they chase each other up and down the pier. The younger one stops to wave at us as she passes. I wave back. She takes off down the pier, her chaser in hot pursuit.

  Luke stretches his legs out in front of him. His feet dangle over the edge of the pier. Earlier today he looked like a carefree guy enjoying a day off. Now the heaviness of the conversation weighs on his face. “Don’t let dance define you. One day, you won’t have it anymore, either from age or injury. And then you won’t have anything left because you spent your life chasing something that has to end, eventually.”

  “What defines you?”

  He looks over at me, a frown creasing his forehead. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  He doesn’t say anything else. I know he’s right. Eventually, I’ll be too old to dance. And if I’m lucky, another injury won’t end my career early. If it does, it leaves me to find something else to focus on. Hopefully that never happens.

  A shadow passes over the sun as the clouds begin to roll in. Luke sits calmly beside me, but he looks over at me when I shift my position to lean back against my hands. His eyes tell a different story than all the words he’s spoken today. There’s hope. Like maybe a relationship could work. He’s the only one in his own way now, and I can’t help him with that. Maybe he’ll figure out a way before it’s too late for him.

  He stands up and holds out his hand to me. “Will you dance with me?”

  The last thing I want to do is dance. I’m perfectly content sharing this space with him in silence. “Now? Can’t we take a break from dancing? We dance all the time.”

  “Not on a pier in the middle of the ocean.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him and look around at the minimal space surrounding us at the edge of the pier. “We can’t dance here.”

  I don’t want to tell him the real reason I don’t want to dance with him. I’m afraid I can’t conceal my emotions right now. I don’t want him to realize that I want exactly what he’s already told me he can’t give me.

  “We’ll be fine. We’re not going to break out in choreography right here. Come on. Just dance with me. We won’t fall in.”

  That’s exactly what worries me. Falling. But I roll my eyes and grab his hand, letting him pull me up. “We don’t even have any music. This isn’t the movies. Music doesn’t just start playing in the background.”

  He takes his phone out of his pocket and presses some things on the screen before tucking it into the pocket on his sweatshirt. Soft music from the phone speakers floats around us and I can’t help laughing at him.

  “This is weird,” I say.

  “This is fun,” he says, pulling me close to him.

  He leads me around in small circles, careful not to get too close to the edge. This is the most real we’ve been with each other since we met. And I can feel it in our dancing. Luke feels at ease, and I allow myself to relax in his arms.

  “Truth or dare.” He leans his head against mine on his shoulder.

  “No. I’m not playing this again.”

  It ended badly the last time. I don’t know why he thinks it will be any different this time.

  “If you don’t pick, I’m going to pick for you.”

  I lift my head off his shoulder and lean back to look at him, trying to decide if he’s kidding. He’s not. “Fine. Whatever. Dare.”

  He pauses for a beat before he answers. “I dare you to trust me.”

  All the blood rushes away from my head and I feel a little lightheaded. My hands shake and I clench them into fists so he doesn’t notice. Maybe I heard him wrong.

  “What are you afraid of?” His eyes sparkle with the challenge. A smile plays at the corner of his mouth.

  There are too many things to name. I’m afraid of what I feel, what he feels, what will happen to us if we ever admit to each other how we feel.

  I nod. “I do trust you. I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t.”

  His brow creases. “There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

  If I don’t tell him now, I probably never will. “I don’t want to live the real-life version of our dance. And I don’t want a repeat of New York.”

  His grip tightens around me. “I would never let that happen.”

  My heart soars at his words, but I won’t allow myself to be happy. This isn’t a relationship. This is the two of us, so far removed from what’s normal, and grasping at anything that might work better than the two of us alone. “You can’t promise
that.”

  “I can’t. But I can promise to try like hell not to hurt you.” He kisses my temple and rests his chin on the top of my head.

  I want to look at him, to ask him what he feels, but I already know. He feels exactly like I do. Scared shitless by the thought of caring about another person, but willing to try to make something work.

  THE HIT LIST UPDATE

  October 18

  This isn’t so much an update as it is a notice to let everyone know I’m officially shutting down the blog. Things have gotten way out of hand since it started. I wanted it to be big, but I wasn’t really anticipating that it would be as big as it’s gotten. I can’t keep up with it and I don’t have time for it. I hope all our Hitters had a great time and our audience playing along got some entertainment out of it.

  Happy hitting!

  ~ THE HIT MAN

  13

  The cafeteria is packed. I grab an apple from the line, not feeling up to anything else. My stomach can’t handle anything heavy on tryout day. Brielle grabs a granola bar from the line and hands a dollar to the girl behind the register.

  We sit down at an empty table. Brielle doesn’t talk as she eats her granola bar. It’s fine with me. My mind is consumed with tryout stuff anyway. I take a bite of my apple and stare off into space.

  There are so many things that could go wrong. Our chemistry could suck, Luke could drop me, we could forget the steps. Ugh. This is too much pressure.

  A tray slams down on the table in front of me. “Good morning, ladies.”

  I smile up at Luke. “Morning.”

  Brielle rolls her eyes and stands up.

  I grab her sleeve and pull her back down into the seat. “Get over it and sit down. You’re fine.”

  “Fine.” She points at Luke. “But I’m watching you, Morrison.”

  The table is silent as everyone chews their breakfast. Brielle looks content. Most of her attitude in front of Luke is all for show. She’s already told me I should go for it with him if that’s what I want.

  “Did you guys hear about that blog? It was shut down last night.” Luke pushes a chunk of waffle around his plate with his fork. He shoves it in his mouth when the waffle won’t hold any more syrup.

 

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