“I know,” she coyly responds. “Aaron can’t keep his hands off me.” Aaron is Jordan’s boyfriend and one of Levi’s friends from the basketball team.
“Hey.” I look over to Levi and see Reece has arrived. Reece is Levi’s best friend and those two do practically everything together. They hang out all the time and play ball after school and even on weekends. Reece’s gaze slowly roams over me, and I feel a rush of heat travel up my spine. “You look breathtaking, Dakota,” he says as he leans over to give my cheek a light peck.
“Thank you.” I glance behind him. “You’re not here with anyone?”
“Nope.” He smiles. “The person I like doesn’t even know I exist.” His words are full of sorrow. The worst part though, is that he’s clearly accepted this as fact.
“You should fight for what you want,” I respond.
“Yeah, fight for it,” Levi adds, then turns to give me a wink.
“Anyone want a drink?” Reece asks and moves from foot to foot, suddenly looking uncomfortable being here.
“Grab me a Coke,” Levi says. “Want anything, babe?” he asks me.
“Any type of soda please.”
Reece looks at me, then Levi. “One soda coming up.” He smiles at me. “You can get your own,” he says, playfully punching Levi’s shoulder as he turns to get us a drink.
“Get me a drink, dick!” Levi yells at Reece and Reece turns to flip him off. “Asshole,” he mumbles before jogging after him to catch up.
“Oh my God. Look at Mr. C.” Jordan stares over my shoulder as I sit next to her. Just as I turn to look, Lindsey comes to sit with us. “Hey.” Jordan and I smile at her.
“Who are we looking at?” Lindsey asks.
“Mr. C,” Jordan answers.
Lindsey shivers but looks toward Mr. C, who’s over in the far corner staring at us. “Oh crap,” Lindsey says and looks away. She giggles and her hand covers her mouth as her shoulders come up, looking like she’s been caught staring at the cute guy at the mall.
“He creeps me out.” A shudder of grossness and revulsion runs over me. “There’s something off about him.”
“Last week, Aaron and I went to the movies and he was there. It’s freaky,” Jordan says as she sneaks a look over at Mr. C.
“That’s why we call him Mr. C and not Mr. Collins. The C is for creepy.” Both Lindsey and Jordan laugh.
“You know, I went to the mall the other day, and I swear to God, I saw him sitting in a car in the parking lot just outside the mall. It wasn’t his car, it was another one. He was just sitting there, not doing anything. I waved to him, and he looked right through me. It was like he didn’t see me, but I know he did,” Lindsey says, her face contorting with disgust.
“Yuck.” I pretend to gag and can feel my forehead scrunching.
“Here’s your drink, Dakota.” Reece hands me a cup of soda and sits opposite me. Levi sits beside him.
I thank him and place the cup on the table in front of me.
“Oh I love this song! Let’s go dance.” Lindsey eagerly stands and seductively moves her body on the spot. “Come on, this is our prom!”
As Jordan and I head out to the dance floor, I turn back to see both Levi and Reece staring at us. Blowing a kiss to Levi, he catches it and sends one back. “You two are so cute together,” Lindsey says when we get to the dance floor.
“Yeah I know,” I respond with a smile, because really, I do know how lucky I am to have him.
“You two are going to finally have sex tonight, right?” she asks in a lower tone.
Shaking my head I look down at the floor to avoid the look I know she’s giving me. “I’m not ready.”
“How can you not be ready? You’ve been with him practically forever. Even Aaron and I have done it. Just do it and get it over with.” Lindsey nods in agreement with Jordan’s words.
“Hey, what are you girls talking about?” Mariah asks as she joins us on the dance floor.
“Dakota doesn’t want to have sex with Levi.” Lindsey fills her in. “Hell, if you’re not going to have sex with him, I certainly will,” she playfully taunts. But I know she’d never betray me like that. We’re all tight, like sisters. “He’s mighty fine, he is.” She looks at me pointedly.
“I know. But, I’m not ready,” I say again for all their benefit. “Anyway, we talked about it on the way over here. He was really good about it and said he understood.”
The girls all nod and sigh, telling me how lucky I am that he’s so understanding. The discussion about Levi and me finally wraps up and we spend the next four songs dancing and having the best night of our lives. Mr. C is around, standing in the corner looking creepy, and a few other teachers are all walking around ensuring the night is problem-free. Mrs. Walker, our English teacher, is standing by the drinks table making sure no one is spiking anything with alcohol.
“I’m really hot, I need a drink,” I say to the girls while fanning myself.
“I’m going to keep dancing,” Mariah says and the other two agree with her.
I leave the dance floor and head toward our table. Everyone’s gone, and the table is completely isolated. Picking up my soda I look around the gymnasium, checking everyone out. Mr. C has moved from the corner and is mingling around the students dancing. I see Levi over on the other side talking to some of the guys on his basketball team. He sees me, and blows me a kiss. He’s the cutest, sweetest guy ever.
I’m so thirsty I down my soda all in one go.
Putting my cup back on the table, I sit and watch the others dancing for a few minutes. Still feeling thirsty, I make my way over to the drinks table and grab another soda.
Mrs. Walker watches me as I pour a drink into a new cup. “Having fun?” she asks once I’ve had a sip. “You’re not dancing?” she questions, looking from me and my friends.
“I was dancing with the girls, but I’m so hot and thirsty I’m taking a few minutes out. Then I’m going straight back out with my new dancing shoes.” I lift my dress slightly to show her my gold strappy heels.
“Very cute,” she responds with a smile, staring at my heels. The music changes into another fast track and Mrs. Walker does a small shuffle on the spot. I have a giggle at her because she’s getting into the music.
Heading back to the table, I decide to relax for a few minutes before I join my friends back on the dance floor. I’m sitting, sipping my soda, when suddenly I’m overcome with an awful queasy feeling of lightheadedness. “What the hell?” I mumble to myself. I must’ve overdone it on the dance floor. I grip the edge of the seat as my head starts spinning. Trying to swallow through my parched throat, I grab my first empty glass and get every last drop out of it, then lift the second empty glass and try to get every drop from that, too.
I bring my hand up to my forehead to wipe away the sweat forming and notice my face is on fire. My body is still heating up and my head spins around and around. The music begins to blur while colorful spots are forming everywhere I look. I don’t know what’s happening to me.
I need to get some water on my face and some fresh air in my lungs. My stomach churns as my head whirls, losing my grip on what’s going on.
Making a beeline for the bathroom, I push through the door and go directly to the sink. Splashing cold water on my face, I try and focus on the girl’s reflection in the mirror, but I can’t see her clearly. She’s jumbled and doesn’t look anything like me. Her face is pasty and white, her eyes are bloodshot, and she looks like a shadow of the girl I’m used to seeing.
Air . . . I need air. My lungs feel like they’re starving for it; my throat is closing on the air I’m attempting to breathe. I can’t get enough air into my lungs.
As carefully as I can, I open the door and try to walk out of the bathroom without seeming like I’m stumbling. The teachers will think I’m drunk. I’m not, and I don’t want them to call my parents.
Bracing myself against the first chair I find outside the bathroom, I steady myself. What the hell is happening to me?
“Are you okay, Dakota?” I hear a man ask. Turning I notice Mr. C standing beside me. Looking at him, I try and speak, but my voice fails me. “I said, are you okay?” he asks again while reaching out to grab onto my elbow.
“I need some air,” I finally manage to mumble.
Mr. C looks at me, and then looks up and away from me. “Just wait here, I have to go deal with a situation,” he says as he drags a chair out and points for me to sit in it. Something’s off with him and I don’t want him to come back to find me. “I’ll be back in two minutes, don’t go anywhere.” He looks to his left and when I try to focus, I see there are a couple of guys from my class about to get into a fight. I’m trying to focus on them and see what they’re doing, but Mr. C’s back blocks everything out.
I need air. My body is burning up, my head is fuzzy, and my stomach is roiling with a desperate need to vomit. Air . . . air . . . air.
Dragging myself out of the gymnasium and down the hall, I move toward the side doors. But with no one here to help me once I’m outside, I will need to sit for a moment out on the steps leading to the back field and gather myself.
My legs become heavier as I get to the doors. The cyclone taking place inside my head is whirling faster, and my vision is so unclear I can barely make out objects.
Stumbling down the first step, I hardly recognize where I am.
“What’s happening?” I think I question.
There’s a cacophony of dense sounds; a combination of white noise, mumbling, and a beat which doesn’t make sense.
My eyes are now so heavy I can barely keep them open. My legs are completely useless as I attempt to make my way down the stairs. I think I’m going to pass out.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” the familiar yet unrecognizable deep male voice says. “Let me get you home.” I know this voice, but it’s muffled by fuzz.
Trying to focus, I start to turn to see who’s here with me, but my eyes close.
AS I LIE IN MY bed, with only the persistent ticking of the wall clock to keep me company, memories of the night I fell in love flood every fiber of my being.
It could have been destiny, or fate, or perhaps it was my life path. Whatever it was, it was meant to be.
We were meant to be.
A smile slowly stretches my face and remembered happiness pushes the dull ache down deep inside.
That night my mind tried to reason with me, telling me soulmates didn’t exist. That night, my heart spoke back to define what a soulmate truly is. Sometimes they come in the form of a partner, sometimes in the form of a friend.
I was one of the lucky ones to have two soulmates: my beautiful and incredibly spirited best friend, Becky, and my handsome boyfriend, Elijah.
Not only were they my soulmates, I was theirs.
And this is our story . . .
Buzz.
Buzz.
My eyes fly open and I see my phone flashing on my bedside table, the screen lit up with Becky’s smiling face. I grab the phone and swipe to answer it while glancing at my alarm clock to see it’s just before one in the morning. “You okay?” I ask in a voice thick with sleep.
“Get your butt out here,” Becky demands in what’s meant to be a whisper, but isn’t.
“Where are you?” I sit up in bed, yawning and stretching.
“I’m outside your house! Come on, hurry up! We’re going to be late.”
“Becky, it’s late, and I’m asleep. What are you doing?”
“We’re sneaking into a club so we can see the coolest band in the whole wide world.” She draws out the word ‘coolest’ as she squeals her excitement into the phone.
“I told you, I’m asleep. Besides, we can’t get into any club for, you know, another five years. Minor detail,” I say, rolling my eyes.
She chuckles at me, and I can imagine her standing outside my house in skinny jeans and a tank top, a full face of makeup. “Well yeah, Alley-cat. That’s why I got us both fake IDs.”
“Becky, I have my ballet exam in two days, I’ve got an early practice at the studio tomorrow morning, and I need to sleep.”
“You have tons of time to practice, and anyway, I’ve seen you dance. You’re perfect. Come on, just put on some jeans and sneak out your window. I’m waiting down the street with Laurie, so get your butt into gear. I’ll see you in ten.” She hangs up, not really giving me an option.
I try calling her back, and she sends it straight to voicemail. Smartass. She knows I’ve got to get dressed to come outside so I can tell her I’m not coming. And once I’m out my window, she’ll convince me to go with her.
Giving in, I pull on a pair of jeans and a black tank top, slipping on my favorite flats. I slide open my window, lift up the screen, and jump out.
It’s early May and there are only a few weeks left before school breaks for summer. The nights have been warm, and I know we’re in for a long, hot summer.
I run down the street to where Becky always waits for me. We don’t do this kind of midnight rendezvous often, but there have been times when Becky calls me in tears, just wanting to talk to someone. Her brother, Caine, is away at college, and her dad works all the time to avoid dealing with his wife’s death six years ago. Her mom died while crossing the street, taking Becky to school. She had a massive heart attack right in the crosswalk, and Becky, still holding her Mom’s hand, blamed herself.
The night her mom died, Becky snuck out of her house and ran the three blocks over to mine, climbed through my window and into my bed. She cried all night long. She told me she should’ve just done what her mom told her to do, that if her mom hadn’t gotten angry at her for taking her time getting ready that morning, maybe her heart wouldn’t have broken. The next morning, Mom came in to wake me and found Becky curled up in bed with me. She said we were holding hands while we slept.
Now it’s a habit. She often comes to my house to talk and we talk about everything—school, ballet, guitar, boys. She even told me about the first night she did it. It was with Laurie, and she said it was nothing like the romance books we occasionally steal from my mother.
Unless they’re about ballet, I’m not too interested in books. Ballet has been my life since I was four years old; I live it, breathe it, and feel it from the moment I wake until the moment I sleep. My ultimate goal is to dance for the American Ballet Theatre, to be their principal dancer. I want the spotlight on me, to be a dancer of such high caliber that other dancers look at me in envy. I don’t mean that in a cruel way. It’s purely a selfish personal goal. I want to be the absolute best I can.
“Alley-cat!” Becky calls as she sees me jogging toward her. “Let’s go.” She starts walking backwards toward Laurie’s old, beat-up car.
“I’m not going. I have my ballet exam in two days. Besides we’ve never been inside a club before. My mom will kick both our asses if we get caught. I only came out here to tell you I’m going back to bed.” I turn to leave but she grabs my upper arm.
“Alice,” she whines, pulling me back toward her. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I was talking to this guy at guitar practice today, Wicked J, who plays in a band called Triple Threats. They’re gigging tonight and said I should come ‘cause he wants to get me up to play a song with them.” Becky gives after-hour lessons to the junior kids at her fancy music school.
“I can’t afford to have it on my record if we get caught at a club with fake IDs, Becky. I’ll never get accepted into the American Ballet Theatre if I have a police record. No, I can’t go.” I look over at Laurie, who’s in the driver’s seat of the car waiting for us. I wave, and he waves back.
Becky tilts her head to the side, her long blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder. She bats her big brown eyes at me and half smirks. “When do I ever get you in trouble?”
“Hmmm, let me see,” I say as I turn and start walking away again. “Maybe the time you wanted to try a cigarette and Mom only saw me taking a drag. Or the time I stole a beer out of the fridge for you, an
d Dad saw me with it while you were in the bathroom peeing. Or maybe the time . . .”
“Yeah, yeah, alright, smartass. No need to rub it in. I get it. You get in trouble for me all the time, but this time it’s really important to me.” Her tone softens and I know by her voice that she’s telling the truth.
I turn around. Damn Becky and her begging. “One hour. That’s all, because I have this exam and I have to practice for it. One hour.” I hold a finger up, affirming the time frame I’m giving her.
“Yes!” Becky squeals as she jumps up and down and claps her hands. “As soon as we get there, I’ll find Wicked J and see if I can go up and play a song or two, and I promise I’ll have you home in an hour.”
I climb into the backseat and put my seatbelt on. “Hey, Laurie,” I say once we’ve started down the road. “Where’s the club?”
“Well . . . it’s actually not really a club,” Becky says, turning in her seat to look at me from the front.
“What exactly does that mean, Rebecca?”
“Crap, you’re mad. I hate it when you call me ‘Rebecca.’”
I breathe in deeply and count to ten in my head, trying to remain the logical one out of the two of us—three if you count Laurie, which we never seem to do. “I am, because you told me it’s a club and now you’re saying it’s not. Where are we going?”
“It’s a bar in the next town over. It’ll be fun!”
“The next town over?”
We live in a small town in northern Florida where everyone knows each other’s business. I’ve lived here all my life, and I can’t walk down the street without someone saying ‘hello’ to me.
“Yeah, it’s about a half-hour drive.” Becky smiles at me, but there’s panic in her eyes. She thinks I’m going to yell at her. And I am.
“You promised me we’d be back in an hour,” I say, punching her in the arm. “You liar!”
“We will be back in an hour. Or two.”
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