Save the Last Dance

by Save the Last Dance (epub)

  Feeling protective, she pulled into the parking lot of a church and got ready to listen. “Mama, what did my agent have to say?”

  “Well, dear, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. It was all very strange.”

  “What was?”

  “He . . .” She paused. “See, Brett told me that he’s been having trouble getting ahold of you and he was getting worried.”

  “He said that?”

  “Almost word for word. Kimmy honey, I tell you what, I didn’t know what to think or what to say. I mean, I knew you hadn’t changed your phone number.”

  “No, I have not.” Oh, she was peeved.

  “I think you have the same email too. I mean, I’m not one to send you emails, but I think it’s the same. Right?”

  “I do.”

  “So why would he lie about all that?”

  “I couldn’t begin to guess.” But it couldn’t be good. After all, Brett absolutely knew her phone number by heart. She was also 100 percent sure that he knew she hadn’t changed it.

  In addition, she also knew that he hadn’t tried to contact her in weeks. “Is that all he said, Mom?”

  “Pretty much.” She paused. “Except, now I don’t want to talk bad about him, but Brett sounded off, actually. Almost like his voice was slurred.”

  “Slurred?”

  “Yes. I thought it was so strange, I signaled for your father to pick up the extension and listen in too.”

  Just like they were on a cop show or something. “What did Daddy think?”

  “Your father thinks the same thing that I did. We think that maybe he was drunk and forgot your number.” She took a breath. “I’m not saying that would be right, but I guess it’s possible, even on a Wednesday night.”

  That was her mother. In her mom’s world, no one imbibed on a school night. “Hmm.”

  “What do you think, dear? Could that be it?”

  “I couldn’t begin to guess. But don’t worry about it, okay?” she murmured. “I’ll call him and figure out what he wants.”

  “Oh. Okay,” her mom said, already sounding relieved. “I hope nothing is wrong. I mean, you said you quit modeling.”

  “I did.” Thinking quickly, she said, “Maybe he got a payment for one of the shows I did last month and he’s trying to forward it to the right address.”

  “Oh.” Her voice brightened. “Well, now, that would make sense.”

  “Yes. Again, please don’t worry, Mama. I bet he was just confused. No big deal.” Realizing what she’d just said, she shook her head. Now she was sounding like Gunnar and she didn’t even know him.

  “All right then. So . . . how are things with you?”

  “So far, so good.”

  “Are you missing modeling?”

  She allowed herself to think about it for a moment. “No, not really. I mean, I do miss parts of it, but I was ready for a change.”

  “I, for one, am glad that you’re going to put your mind to use now. God gave you a good one, you know.”

  “I know.” She’d also heard that same reminder from the time she started school.

  “Any chance you want to move back to New York soon?” Her mother’s voice held a note of hope in it. “Daddy and I sure miss you. I can’t believe we won’t be seeing you until after Christmas.”

  She missed them too. She hadn’t seen her parents all the time when she was in New York, but it had been nice to be able to hop on the subway and see them in their brownstone in Brooklyn. “I’m going to hate not seeing you too, Mom, but January will be better. We can have a nice visit then. It won’t be rushed.”

  “Have you found a permanent place to live yet?”

  “Not yet. I’m still enjoying living with all the girls and getting to know Traci and Shannon.”

  “All right. I understand.”

  She still sounded sad, though. “Mom, if you want, you and Dad are welcome to come out at Christmas. It’s going to be hectic, but if you want to be in the midst of the chaos, you’re welcome to be here. You could meet Shannon and Traci when you’re here too.”

  “I’ll talk to your dad. I do feel bad that we haven’t met your sisters, and a little bit of chaos might do us some good.”

  “Then book a ticket or drive on down.”

  “You know what? Maybe we will. I want to get to know those girls.” Her mother’s voice sounded a little wistful.

  “Hey, Mama?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Did you only want to adopt one girl?”

  “Kimber? What are you talking about?”

  “Did you know that I was one of three siblings?”

  There was a pause. “No, dear. All we’d done was fill out the paperwork and said we were hoping for a baby.”

  “Would you have taken all of us?”

  “I . . . well, I think so.” Her mother sounded stressed. “Kimber, dear, of course I’m sorry about what happened with Traci and Shannon and that the three of you were separated. No one ever told us you had older sisters needing homes too.”

  “I know.”

  “Is there a reason you’re asking me about this now? It was all a really long time ago.”

  “You know how I told you that Traci was in foster care and never adopted.”

  “Yes?” Her voice was strained.

  “Well, Shannon’s mom said that she never knew there were three of us. I just wondered if the adoption agency told you the same thing.”

  “We’d wanted a baby. We’d been on a waiting list for years. Hearing about you was the best news ever.”

  Kimber noticed that she didn’t exactly answer the question. But suddenly, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know. It wasn’t like the past could be changed anyway.

  Kimber pulled back out onto the road and when she hung up after a few more minutes of conversation, she was pulling up to her building. The Christmas lights that they’d hung together in the small front yard and around the door were twinkling merrily. It had been a small miracle that they’d done such a good job. It had turned out that each of them—Jennifer and Gwen included—had had strong opinions about how to decorate a house for Christmas. Boy, they’d laughed and argued . . . and then gotten mugs of hot chocolate and stood together in the front yard to admire their hard work.

  Kimber had loved every second of it.

  Now, looking up at the house, she realized that she might not be exactly sure who she was, but she did know one thing for certain.

  At last, she was home.

  CHAPTER 7

  the mouse king: He’s the mischievous king of the magical soldier mice. The Mouse King declares war on the Nutcracker and his tin soldiers and a battle ensues.

  Bridgeport High was pretty big. Each day, there were at least four hundred students in the building. That meant that there was always someone walking in the halls. There were always a lot of people. That was fine, but it made it kind of hard to have a private conversation with anyone.

  Jeremy had been pulled out to speak to Melanie in the office. They were supposed to talk twice a month and every once in a while she liked to meet with him at school instead of at Gunnar’s house. They had talked—and really, there hadn’t been too much to say; everything was good with his foster dad—and now he was walking back to class.

  And then there, coming toward him, was Bethany. He couldn’t believe it, but they were the only two people in the whole hallway—they were essentially by themselves.

  It felt like fate. Every other time he’d seen her, they’d both been surrounded by a ton of people. Well, mainly she was. Bethany had been in Bridgeport since kindergarten and seemed to know everyone at the school.

  When she saw him, her steps slowed. She lifted a hand and brushed a chunk of hair behind her ear. “Hi, Jeremy.”

  “Hey, Bethany.” He stopped right in front of her. Kn
ew he needed to say something smart sounding—or at least something that made sense—but all he seemed to be able to do was stare at her.

  As the seconds passed, she looked up at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to say something. A line of worry formed on her brow when he didn’t say another word. “Um. Well, I’ll see ya.”

  Telling himself to Get. A. Grip. He called out, “Hey, wait.”

  She turned back to him. “Yes?”

  “Listen, sorry.” He paused, then realized that he had nothing to lose by telling her the truth. “The truth is that I just came from seeing my social worker and I didn’t know how to tell you that. I was embarrassed.” And that was the truth. He was embarrassed that his life was so different than hers. But, what could he do? He hadn’t asked for this messed up life but it was his.

  “How come you have a social worker?” Her eyes widened right before she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh, forget I asked you that. Sorry.”

  “No, I don’t mind if you ask. I mean, it’s not a secret.” He took a breath and decided that he didn’t mind telling her the truth, but he sure didn’t want to tell her all his ugly during their first real conversation.

  He shrugged. “I don’t have any parents.” He briefly considered making things sound better than they were, but decided it would all come back to haunt him if he did. “I never knew my dad and my mother was shot a couple years ago.”

  Her green eyes widened. “Oh my gosh!”

  “Anyway, um, after my mom, uh, died, I was put into foster care. Gunnar, the guy I live with? Well, he’s my foster dad.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know about that. Does anyone know?”

  “Not really. I don’t like to talk about it much. But, um, it’s not a secret or anything. I don’t mind talking about it—though we don’t have to.” When she kept staring, he felt like slapping himself. Why had he gone and shared so much anyway? “Sorry I brought it up. I just wanted to tell you the truth. That’s all.”

  She stared at him for a few seconds, obviously processing what he said. “What does that mean? Are you going to have to move away?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so anymore. Gunnar wants to adopt me.” Jeez. How did he go from not wanting to tell her anything to word vomit?

  “That’s great. I mean, I think it is?”

  “It is. He’s a good guy.” He really needed to stop. Like, right away. “What are you doing out in the hall?”

  “Me. Oh.” She grinned. “Nothing that exciting. I had to go to the bathroom.”

  Awkward. “Sorry.” Boy, he knew he was blushing. “I’ll see you.” But just as he was about to turn away, Bethany called out to him again.

  “Hey, Jeremy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you told me about your meeting.”

  She was? Thinking that there could only be one reason why, he murmured, “I guess you think something’s wrong with me, huh?” Even though he knew he sounded like a loser, Jeremy figured he might as well just put it out there. After all, if she did think he was pathetic or something, he wouldn’t be surprised. Half the time he thought something was wrong with him too.

  But instead of nodding her head, she said, “No, I think you’re really strong.”

  “Strong?”

  “Yeah. I mean, a lot of people go through bad stuff but they wear it on their heart.” Those green eyes he kept thinking about clouded. “It’s always the first thing they tell you. But not you.” She smiled at him before turning away and rushing down the hall.

  He couldn’t believe it. He’d shared the worst thing about himself, and she hadn’t made fun of him or acted weird.

  Actually, Bethany acted as if his past was something to be proud of. He almost started smiling too as he entered his world history class.

  “You’re late, Jeremy,” Mrs. Cook announced from the front of the room.

  He handed her the pass. “Sorry. I had a meeting in the office.”

  After scanning the note, she nodded. “Get the notes from someone.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Though a couple of the kids snickered, Mrs. Cook looked a little happier with him.

  Right now, he didn’t care about either his teacher’s approval or the fact that most kids in Bridgeport hadn’t been raised to stick ma’am on the end on practically every sentence.

  Bethany had made him feel like he wasn’t as weird as he constantly felt. That was huge.

  CHAPTER 8

  “And she brought forth her firstborn son,

  and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and

  laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

  —LUKE 2:7

  “What took you so long?” Karyn asked when Bethany slid into her seat.

  “What do you mean?”

  Karyn tossed back a chunk of her dark auburn hair. “Ha, ha. Don’t look so innocent. You were gone for a while. You also might as well tell me why you look so pleased with yourself.”

  “Stop. I look normal.”

  “Ah, no. You look like you’re sunbathing at the pool instead of sitting in the middle of Spanish in December.”

  Bethany would usually tell her best friend to shut up, but she knew Karyn was telling the truth. After double-checking that Mr. Hernandez was still talking with two kids at his desk, Bethany moved an inch closer. “As a matter of fact, something did happen.” She was so pleased, she couldn’t help but sound as smug as she felt. “I finally talked to him.”

  “To who?”

  Two girls in the row in front of them turned around and giggled.

  Bethany gave them a pointed look until they turned back around. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed. “And you know who I’m talking about. Jeremy Widmer.”

  As usual, Karyn’s sharp mind started firing off questions. “The new kid with the dreamy blue eyes? Everyone’s been trying to flirt with him, but he always acts like they don’t exist.”

  “He’s not stuck up. He’s shy. But anyway, the two of us were alone in the hall and talked for at least five minutes.”

  “No way.”

  “Way.” And, for the record, Jeremy absolutely did have dreamy blue eyes. Not that she’d ever admit it to him.

  “Well, tell me everything. Who spoke first? What did he say? What did you say back? How was talking to him? Was it awkward? Easy?”

  She glanced at Mr. Hernandez again. He was still talking to the same students. As the clock ticked away, everyone else started talking quietly too. Satisfied that nobody was eavesdropping, Bethany continued. “Jeremy was walking out of the office and I was walking toward the bathroom. We met in the hall . . .”

  “Well . . . what happened?”

  “He said hey and I said hi and then we just kind of stood there for a minute. And then, at last, we started talking.”

  “About what?” Karyn’s voice was impatient and it had risen a tiny bit.

  Bethany knew right then and there that she wasn’t going to reveal Jeremy’s secret. She didn’t think it was bad to be a foster kid, but she realized that he kind of did. She didn’t want him to think she was gossiping about him either. “Nothing special,” she said at last. “We just kind of started talking about stuff.”

  Karyn looked unimpressed. “Did he ask for your number?”

  “No.”

  “So even though you got to talk to him, it wasn’t about anything special.”

  No, she kind of thought it was. Still determined not to actually come out and share Jeremy’s secret, Bethany lifted her chin. “What did you expect? We hardly know each other.”

  “I guess that’s true. Too bad he didn’t want your number though.”

  Bethany was kind of starting to think that too. But pushing that disappointment to one side, she added, “I promise, it was a good conversation. Really good. I under
stand him a little better now. I actually think he’s kind of shy.”

  Karyn still looked unimpressed. “He better ask you to the Christmas dance soon or someone else is going to.”

  “I don’t know about that.” It wasn’t like she was the most popular girl around or anything.

  “Bethany, give yourself some credit. You’re going to get asked by someone in our group.”

  Put that way, Karyn was probably right. They were part of a pretty big group of friends. Though some of the guys and girls were paired off, most of them weren’t. That meant that even though she wasn’t tight with any particular guy, there was a good chance one of them would ask her to the dance. In fact, she’d overheard some of the guys talking about that during their lunch the other day. One of them had pretty much said that he’d rather take a girl in their group to the Christmas dance than someone out of it.

  Until she’d met Jeremy, she’d thought the same thing.

  “The dance isn’t until right before Christmas. Jeremy has time to ask me.” That is if he wanted to ask her.

  “Not that much time.”

  Karyn had a point. Pretty soon, all the guys were going to start choosing their dates. And once that began, the girls would start freaking out if they hadn’t been asked.

  Things would get weird as gossip and rumors went crazy.

  Eventually, even the more reluctant boys would start asking someone so they wouldn’t have to deal with the pressure anymore.

  Days later, the rest of the popular, more vocal girls would get snapped up, and girls like her would be left to either go with friends or stay home and pretend they were glad they weren’t spending hundreds of dollars on a dress, shoes, and a mani-pedi.

  None of that had started yet, but that didn’t mean she had much to entice Jeremy to ask her. “He might have someone else in mind. Or, he might not even want to go.”

  “Of course he will.” Looking alarmed, Karyn leaned closer. “Hey, you kind of look like you’re gonna cry if he doesn’t ask you. He will. And, like I said, someone is going to.”

  When she noticed that the girls in front of them were looking at her again, Bethany shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just drop it, okay?”