Reaching Rose (Hunter Hill University Book 3)

by Grider, J. P.

  "Oh, geez. That's right. You still have your tutor?"

  "No."

  "No? What happened?"

  "I stopped learning. I stopped responding to her. When it finally sunk in that I wasn't getting any better."

  "Get her back, John. You still have a brain that functions on the genius level. You can do so much with that. You can still be an engineer. And homework will keep you busy, and you'll...you'll still have a life."

  "You make it sound so fuckin' easy, Ben. I'm a goddamn cripple. It ain't gonna be sunshine and roses for me. Ever. Just...stop trying to make things better. It's not gonna happen."

  I shrug it off. I guess I am simplifying his condition. Rose's too. Maybe I'm not supposed to fix things for the people I love. Maybe I just have to sit here and agree with them. Yup. Your life will be nothing but suffering. I agree. Your life sucks.

  I have a lot to learn.

  Until I walk in their shoes I guess...

  25

  ROSE

  I have no idea why it’s bothering me so much tonight, but it’s killing me to know. Maybe it’s what Johnny said about making new plans. Maybe it’s because Ben looked so disappointed when he realized Johnny had lost hope. Maybe it’s just finally time. I really don’t know, but tonight, I pull out that box, take the leg out of it, and put it on. Tonight, I’ll know for sure.

  Even though it’s the middle of the night, with my dancing leg clasped on, I make my way to the studio my dad had built several years ago in the basement. It's complete with ballet barre, wood floor, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. My own haven once upon a time.

  The small stereo sitting in the corner is dusty, and my dance compilation CD is still waiting in the player. I turn it on and let the music fill the room, hopefully finding its way back into my soul.

  My mind wanders all over the place as I stand at the center of the barre. I do some quick warm-ups and stretches while my dancing life flashes before my eyes. Taunting me is my first recital. My first solo. My first honors performance. My first time competing. My first appearance on Broadway - a rehearsal - the farthest I will ever go.

  When the images stop, I catch sight of myself in the murky mirror. With my hand, I streak it, and see the tears on my face. I hadn't even realized I'd been crying.

  Sucking in my snot, I go over to my bin of dancing shoes and pull out my old ballet slippers. With trembling hands and a shaky breath, I slide them on my bare...feet? Does a plastic foot count as bare?

  My heart races as I stand, looking at my feet. Can I do this without breaking down?

  Stepping into the center of the floor, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and wish to God I could travel back in time and go with Jordan to the apartment instead of heading to rehearsal by myself. I may not believe in promises anymore, but a part of me would like to believe in magic.

  My eyes still closed, I bring my new foot toward the inside of my good knee and attempt a fouetté turn.

  I complete three in a row, but I'm rusty.

  I do three more with my right foot on the floor before attempting one on my left.

  Just lifting my right foot off the ground causes me to lose my balance, but I right myself and try again. This time, I tuck in my core, breathe deep, and envision myself doing one before I actually do it. Inching my right foot up, I place it into position and...

  Fail.

  I fall when I attempt the turn.

  My ass on the floor, I drop my head in my hands and wonder why the heck I even try.

  A few minutes more of sulking, I pick myself up and go to the barre. And practice the fouetté turn without the spin. When I don't get it exactly right, I move on to some easier positions, but not without major disappointment. I spend nearly an hour in the basement, with nothing to show for it, so I take off my slippers, turn off the music, and get back to my room before anyone wakes up and realizes I've been down there. I put my dancing leg away, lotion up my leg, and cry myself to sleep.

  ***

  I know something is wrong the minute I open the door.

  His hands are sunk deep into his jeans pockets and his smile lacks mirth.

  "Hey, beautiful," he says and kisses me on the cheek.

  "Hey," I say back.

  "Mind if we keep it low-key tonight?"

  "Not at all. You okay? We don't have to do this."

  He takes my hand, walks me to his car, and says, "Are you kidding me? Knowing I was seeing you tonight was the only thing keeping me going."

  We get in his car and start driving. "I Googled some places around here and found this cute little cafe upstate. It's about thirty minutes away."

  "Oh yeah. The Treemont."

  "You've been there?"

  "No. Beth has. She's mentioned it a few times."

  "Good. Your first time will be with me."

  Goodness gracious, this makes me blush.

  I think he realizes what he just said, because I see him tuck in his lips, and his cheeks look red.

  "Are you okay, Ben? You seem sad."

  He nods. "I'm okay."

  "Things aren't good for Johnny?"

  He shakes his head. "No."

  "It's gotta be hard."

  "Yeah. For you too, I guess."

  "For different reasons. But...I don't want to talk about me."

  Ben turns on the radio and fusses to find a clear station.

  "You're not gonna find much."

  He presses a button and One Republic's “Ordinary Human” comes on. "You mind listening to this?"

  "No. I like One Republic."

  That's the last thing we say to each other until we're seated at The Treemont, where the lights are dim and I don't have to worry if he'll see all the makeup covering my scar. "It's nice here. Feels like we should be somewhere in Vermont."

  "Yeah. It does. Like one of those bed and breakfasts."

  "Definitely."

  We look at our menus, and I realize things have become awkward. Maybe it's because I didn't want to talk about me, but I was being honest. He wants to make things better for me. He wants me to just be grateful. Just like my sisters. But I'm not grateful. All I ever wanted to do was dance for an audience. And once I'd fulfilled that, I wanted to teach dance. Now I can't do either. Especially after proving it to myself last night. So I'm going to sulk. Might not be mature of me, but it is what it is. I'll learn to be content on the farm, but I don't want anyone to try and convince me that my life can still be fulfilling. If I can't dance, it won't be.

  The waitress takes our order, and now we're sitting there staring at our beverages. I have to cut through the tension. "So...you'll be going to Florida next month. You excited?"

  "Well...I'm not excited, but I am looking forward to it."

  "Did you have practice this morning?"

  "Yeah. Coach finally let me run bases." He smiles.

  "Good. How'd that feel?"

  "Invigorating." After he says this, his smile drops.

  "Something wrong?"

  "No, no. It felt good to let loose again."

  "Knee's good?"

  He shrugs. "Pretty much, yeah. What'd you do today?"

  I show him my nails. "Patti insisted we all go for a manicure."

  "Peach. They look pretty. Did you all go?"

  "Yup. Terri too. To make peace."

  "Good. Sisters shouldn't fight."

  I crack up. "That's all sisters do. But...we also make up. You have siblings?"

  "One sister, one brother. Both older."

  "Oh. Nice. What are their names?"

  "Maria and Dominic."

  "Nice Italian names."

  "Johnny wants to die," he blurts, his face sullen again.

  "Oh my God."

  "He wanted to ask me to put a pillow over his face."

  "Oh my God."

  "If I wasn't so nice a guy, he said."

  I just stare at Ben in disbelief.

  "Of course, I can't. I wouldn't do that, but...you think it's that bad that death would be better?"

/>   "I don't know, Ben. There was a time I wanted to die. Sometimes...still...I...entertain the idea."

  "Oh my God, Rose," he says loudly. "No. You are perfectly healthy and..."

  "Ben. Johnny...let's talk about Johnny."

  Ben drops his head in his hand and doesn't look at me.

  "Ben. Look at me."

  He does.

  "I don't know what to say about Johnny. I don't even know what to tell you to do."

  "Yeah."

  Fortunately, the waitress brings our food and we don't have to talk for a bit. I eat my omelet in contemplation of what to talk about to change the mood between us. But then he reaches for my hand. "Don't consider this our first date, Rose. We can do much better."

  "It's not so bad."

  "It is. And not because of you. Please know that. I just...I can't stop thinking about Johnny. I can't imagine being so depressed."

  "Did you know him before rehab?"

  "No. But I liked him right away. He's funny. Joked all the time."

  "Can I get you anything else?" the waitress asks, picking up our plates. "Dessert? Coffee?"

  "Rose?"

  "I'll have a cup of tea, please."

  "I'll have...coffee's good. Long drive home," he says to me. "Rose. What are you doing tomorrow? Can I come up?"

  "Really?"

  "I promise. I'll be happier."

  "I don't mind if you're sad. I wish you weren't, but..." I trail off, nowhere really to go with that.

  "Does that drive-in show movies during the day?"

  "Well...no...not dark enough."

  "God. I'm so stupid. That's right."

  "Plus. I think they stopped showing them now, since it's too cold."

  "We can go bowling. Do you bowl?"

  "Um...not since...I don't know. We can rent a movie," I suggest. I really don't want to do anything remotely athletic.

  "Renting a movie sounds good. Where? I thought rental places were gone."

  "Well...we can demand a movie. But can you believe we still have a place that rents movies?"

  "What?"

  "Yup. At The General Store."

  "You have a general store?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "You really do live on Walton Mountain."

  "I don't think the Waltons had video rentals at their general store."

  "Ooh...this town's hoppin'," Ben jokes.

  "Thank you," we both say to the waitress when she brings our coffee and tea.

  "A movie sounds good. I got a load of laundry to do in the morning, I can come up about one...or two, if I sleep late."

  "Or...you can do your laundry by us and come up for breakfast. Sunday mornings Mom makes a big breakfast, and Terri's going back tomorrow so she can only flirt with you for an hour or two." I laugh so he knows I'm kidding. Kinda. Sorta.

  "Your parents won't mind if I'm there?"

  "No. They like you."

  "Okay. I can do my laundry at night, though. I won't bring it."

  "You can, you know."

  "That's okay. What time's breakfast?"

  "Usually 'bout ten. After Dad feeds the animals and stuff."

  "Sounds fun."

  "It isn't, but..."

  Ben laughs, then finally takes a sip of his coffee. I'm almost finished with my tea.

  "So," he says, "you like One Republic. What other bands you like?"

  "Well. Don't tell anyone. Holly would stop being my friend, but...I like country music."

  "Of course you do, half-pint."

  "A Laura Ingalls' reference now?"

  "I'm teasing. But it makes sense you like country music up here in farmland."

  "Most of us hillbillies do."

  "So who are your favorites?"

  "Keith Urban. Hands down. But...I really like them all."

  "I've heard of Keith Urban. He's that guy on Idol."

  I laugh. "Yeah. That's him."

  "Who else?"

  "Tim McGraw, Zac Brown Band, Eric Church."

  "I've heard of Tim McGraw. The dude married to Faith Hill."

  "Yup. Who do you listen to...besides One Republic?"

  "I'm pretty mainstream. Not too big into music, but I like..."

  "Wait. A college guy not into music? That's like a college guy not into booze and sex."

  When he raises his eyebrows, it clicks.

  "You're not a normal college guy, are you?"

  "I think I am."

  "You don't drink?"

  "I do. I don't make it a routine though."

  "And sex?"

  "Occasionally, but...I'm not a freak, I promise. I just have a definitive plan for my future, and those things get in the way."

  "And that's making it to the Majors." I don't ask, I state. I know this is his plan.

  "Yes. And then when I'm done there...psychology."

  "To sports dudes."

  "That's the plan."

  "Do you ever wonder what you'd do if you don't make it?"

  "No," he says as a matter of fact. "That would distract me. Putting doubt there. I can't have doubt. That's just a recipe for failure."

  I just nod. That's how I thought when it came to dance.

  "Look, I'm not being an arrogant dick. I've practiced all my life to get there. I'm one of their top picks. I've already had recruiters contact me. This spring is a big year for me, and if I start talking like I might not make it, well then, the whole way I play changes. I lose confidence. I can't afford that."

  "I get it. I don't think you're arrogant at all. I was nodding because...well...my attitude was pretty much the same before." I shake my head, not really wanting to go there. "But...so I understand. You're right. You can't get distracted."

  My cup is empty, but I bring it to my lips anyway.

  "No. You don't think I'm conceited?" He asks this, but I can tell he'd rather be asking about me. I slipped up by mentioning it.

  "Of course not. You're far from it. You're dedicated. Committed. I admire that."

  "Thank you."

  He puts down his cup and I can tell it's empty.

  "Wanna get going?" he asks.

  "Sure."

  In his car, he searches again for a music station. "I don't have any country CDs."

  "I like One Republic. That's fine."

  He's still searching the radio.

  "But if you really want country, 96.1 should come in clear."

  He tunes it to the station and it's right in the middle of "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi.

  "Bon Jovi? I thought this was a country station?"

  Shaking my head, I laugh, saying, "But he sings this with the lead singer of Sugarland. A country band."

  "Ah."

  Several country songs and a buttload of commercials later, we're at my house, and Ben walks me to the door.

  "Thank you for tonight, Ben. I had a really nice time."

  Right away, my hands are in his. "I'm sorry I wasn't the best of company. I promise tomorrow I'll be happier."

  It's funny how easily Ben promises things. Doesn't he realize that circumstances can make a promise a lie? "It's okay. Your friend is hurting. And if you're sad tomorrow, that's okay too."

  "Thanks."

  For a moment, we stare into each other's eyes. His are sad and it makes me feel bad. He's trying to read mine, questioning whether it's safe to kiss me? I'm not sure. I do want to kiss him. Taste him. See what it's like to be so close to him.

  But before I get the image out of my head, the thought of his tongue out of my mouth, Ben leans into me, hugs me, and kisses me on the cheek.

  "So breakfast. Ten o'clock."

  "Yup. Breakfast is at ten."

  "See you in the morning, half-pint," he jokes.

  "See you in the morning."

  ***

  After Ben leaves, I'm too wound up to sleep, and it's quite early anyway, so I open up my laptop and search ‘disabled ballerinas.’ Like I had found out in therapy when I was in the mental ward, there are plenty. And they seem to be doing we
ll. But are they where they want to be? Were they better before and now have to accept their limitations? I don't want limitations. But I really want to dance again. I miss it. I want to get lost in the music while I'm on the dance floor, but with my leg tripping me up, it's just not going to happen.

  Two hours of Googling later, I put on my dancing leg and tiptoe the best I can down to the basement again, making sure not to wake the now sleeping house.

  I turn the stereo on low and start with the barre. I warm up, do my stretches, then try again to be as graceful as possible.

  After an hour of stumbling and falling, instead of actually dancing, I've had enough. Not as quietly, I make it back to my room, and after practically ripping off the prosthetic, I go to bed, not bothering with my usual routine of brushing my teeth and caring for my leg.

  Because I'm tossing and turning instead of sleeping, I hear my phone when it dings.

  HOLLY: Hey. U up?

  I sit up and text her back.

  ME: Yup. What's up?

  HOLLY: Come to Donny's tomorrow.

  ME: Can't. Ben's coming up.

  HOLLY: Bring him.

  ME: I think I'll pass. Thanks tho. How r u?

  HOLLY: Not good.

  ME: WHY?! What happened?

  HOLLY: I miss my BFF. :(

  ME: Oh.

  Not surprisingly, my phone rings.

  "Yeah?" I say when I answer it.

  "Oh? That's all you have to say?"

  "What do you want me to say? I miss you too, but I don't want to go to the bar."

  "You don't come out anymore, Rose."

  "That's not true. I went out to dinner with Ben last night."

  "That's good. But have you seen any of your old friends?"

  "Holly. You are my old friends. Everyone else is just people I hung with with you."

  "Yeah. And they miss you too."

  I'm just too tired to respond anymore.

  "What about next Friday night? I have off. Are you busy?"

  "No. You wanna come up?" I ask, always happy to see Holly.

  "Griffin's having a party." Dammit. "He hasn't had one in a while. Come with me. I'll ask Ben too. Not that he comes to parties, but with you there, he may," she rambles.