I blinked up at him with his hand on my mouth and his hard body against me. My things touched his things, our middles pressed tight, and I swore he’d be able to feel my heart trying to beat its way closer to his.
“You never embarrass me. This whole thing…it isn’t about trying to change you. I just needed to show other people…” He trailed off as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
I stayed stock-still afraid he’d realize how close we were and add distance, like he was so in favor of doing.
“I told you, I'm not great with words, but I thought I made it clear from the beginning that I only wanted you to feel better. I wanted the world to see the real you, how you’re just as capable as anybody else. That your accent doesn’t make you trash. If I ever made you feel like less than anyone else it was only because I can't communicate my thoughts clearly. Obviously.” He pointed his chin to the place he tried to talk to the doctor.
I couldn’t breathe. It had nothing to do with him, or rather, everything to do with him. At some point in his speech, he dropped his hands to my shoulders and off my mouth, but I still couldn’t fill my lungs completely. He gently massaged the exposed area like he couldn’t keep his hands still. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what he said.
“Oh.” I swallowed down my heart, which had squirmed its way to my throat—and still tried desperately to get out of my chest. “I thought you wanted me to make something of myself.”
“I think you could do anything you put your mind to. I'm not doing a good job in this experiment. I keep trying to help but you already know what I have to teach you—clothing, your accent, and even your small talk. You could live a totally different life and nobody would ever know, or care, where you came from.”
My heart finally caught up with what he was saying and crashed back down to where it belonged. I nodded.
“Ah.” He thought I could be something but that I lived short of my potential. He still thought my dancing was garbage. That I was garbage but he held out hope I could change.
It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t see the truth. He was surrounded by opportunities and I was surrounded by reality. I forced a smile onto my face. He frowned and tried to speak again but I cut him off. I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t want to hear how I was wasting my life. I didn’t want to explain how my path had been laid out since the day my momma walked out. Dancing was all I had and I worked hard for it. He had dreams about communities, education, and business. I had dreams about family, choreography, and losing myself to the music.
“I have an idea,” I said.
“Hmm?” He still looked lost in thought.
“You need to be here any longer?” I asked.
“No. I think I’ve shown my face to the important people.”
“No offense, but this party sucks.”
He held my gaze. I wished he wouldn’t look at me like that. I got so confused when he did. How could he look at me like I was the most interesting thing in the room but also think I was not living up to my potential? I was done with thinking. I needed to drink and forget.
“I want to go dancing,” I said. “Real dancing.”
“I don’t know where—”
“No worries. I happen to know just the place.”
Chapter 17
Clifford
This was not a good idea. This was in fact, a very bad idea.
“This is a bad idea.”
Suzie waved my comments away. We sat in the car as people moved in and out of the front door of the Green Valley Community Center. Those who weren't in costume were in jeans or equally casual clothing.
“We’re overdressed,” I added.
“Don’t worry. It’s Halloween. We’re in costume.” Though she sounded breezy as she gnawed at her cuticle.
I wondered her reasoning for bringing me here of all places.
“This is a jamboree or something?”
She rolled her eyes at me. Sometimes one eye roll from her made my whole week.
“Yeah, complete with milk jugs and tin washboards. Come on, let’s go in before we miss the bands.”
