I stared at her in silence for a moment until she arched her brows in obvious annoyance. “Are we done here? Some of us have to practice for auditions.”
I left the studio so she could rehearse, but her words stuck with me.
But he wants you.
Did he?
The thought was terrifying, and I didn’t know why. Maybe because I knew that if I let myself believe it…If I even let myself hope…
I’d be opening myself up to a world of hurt.
My dance with him, the way he’d held me, the things Bianca had said afterward…my head was reeling for the next few days. I half hoped that Ethan would text, and then I told myself it wouldn’t fix anything if he did. Even if I had enough courage to dance because I was a dancer, it didn’t change the status of the school.
FIFTEEN
ETHAN
To say I was miserable was an understatement. It was strange. I knew I should hate Collette for treating me that way. I knew I should hate Bianca for ruining our moment.
I knew I should hate my team for putting me in this situation in the first place.
But I didn’t.
I was just…numb.
Ryan must have noticed my mood during lunch on Thursday because suddenly he shouldered me. Annoyance shot through me and I growled as I glanced over at him.
“What?” I barked.
He raised his eyebrows. “Whoa. What’s with you?”
I shoved my tray away from me and leaned back against my chair and folded my arms. “Nothing.”
He studied me like hedidn’t believe a word I said. I just shrugged as I finished off my Coke and crumpled the can with my hand. The jagged metal jabbed into my hand and made me feel something. I wasn’t going to lie, it felt good.
“Whatever, man,” Ryan said as he threw up his hands. “Are you coming tonight or not? I don’t want to deal with a prima donna and if you’re going to be moody, don’t come.”
I cleared my throat as I glanced over at my friend. Sure, I was being a jerk. But I was hurting. In a way that I’d never hurt before. Losing Collette was one of the worst things to happen to me. Which just made me sound pathetic.
Maybe she was right. I did live a cushy life. The worst thing that happened to me was my dad not letting me play guitar. I was lame and Collette knew it. That’s why she never called or texted after I left the studio on Monday.
And I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t call me either.
I sighed and shrugged as I pushed around some crumbs on the table in front of me. “Sorry. I’m just…going through something.”
Ryan fell silent and when I looked over at him, I saw a spark of sympathy.
“Your dad?” he asked.
If there was any of my friends who understood what it was like to have a rocky relationship with his father, it was Ryan. At least for me, my dad was still in the picture. Ryan’s bounced in and out of his life like a ping pong ball that was hit too hard.
“Yeah, that and other things.” I was always going to have a problem with my dad, but right now, my frustration with my father was the easier of my rocky emotions to understand.
“Ah,” Ryan said, his typical, obnoxious demeanor returning. “That hottie from the dance school haunting your thoughts?” Then he leaned in and gave me a wicked smile. “Because she’s haunting my dreams. I keep imagining her as the teacher and I’m the tardy student.” He made an obnoxious whipping sound, completely oblivious to the fact that I was glaring at him.
Anger coursed through me as I imagined Collette being the star of his raunchy fantasies. “You dream about Collette?” I felt my hand fisting as it rested in my lap. He was my friend but I had no problem decking him.
Ryan furrowed his brow. “Who’s Collette?” Then recognition passed over his face. “Oh, that chunky girl from the hallway? You have a thing for her?”
