Page 12 of Burning Bridges Duet

“You want to help my furniture?” I ask, and I can’t help but smile at his offer.

“Yes, it’s almost animal cruelty not letting them out,” he replies with a nod.

I chuckle. “It’s furniture, not pets.”

“Furniture cruelty, then.” He shrugs. “Let me in?”

I step aside, feeling grateful for his unexpected help.

“Well, I would applaud you for tidying up, but it looks like the furniture assembly got away from you,” Gunner says, smirking as he takes in my apartment. It’s much neater than this morning, but the furniture pieces are scattered all over the floor. I put a hand over my eyes and let my head fall back.

“I know,” I say on a groan. “I tried, but I’m just not good at this.”

“Stop that. You just don’t know how, but it’s okay. That’s why I’m here to help you out,” he says, setting the toolbox down on the floor.

“You have no idea how grateful I am. Can I offer you something? I don’t have much here, but I was planning to order pizza, anyway. Feeding you is the least I can do to thank you for your help,” I say, sitting on my bed.

“No problem. Happy to help,” he replies with a grin. “But I never say no to pizza. Meat lovers, please?”

I grin and order us pizza and breadsticks via the app.

As he starts to assemble my desk, I watch him in amazement. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing, and the pieces come together effortlessly in his hands. He has the desk and desk chair put together in no time, then he takes a break to eat the pizza when it’s delivered. We talk about nothing important, but he’s funny and a kind person. I think I like him.

“Gunner, why are you doing this?” I ask him as he’s in the final stages of installing my TV.

“So you have cable?” he asks, unsure, and I laugh.

“No, why are you helping me?”

He smiles and looks at the floor. “Because I could use a friend too.”

ELEVEN

It’s the second week on campus, and the coursework is getting tougher. In choreography class, we have a group project in assigned teams of three with topics randomly picked from a bowl. I was paired with Camilla and Sofie, but I haven’t spoken to them much. They’re the cool girls of the class, and I don’t fit in, but it’s just a project. What I don’t particularly like is the topic we pulled out of the bowl, which was domestic violence. It’s an important issue and relatively easy to portray, as there are a lot of good songs and specific movements that work for it, but it hits a bit too close to home for me and I’m worried about my emotional state. I can’t lose it in front of the queen bees.

Camilla and Sofie are talking animatedly about what music we should choose, and there are some good suggestions.

“I love ‘Warrior’ by Demi Lovato, because it speaks about how she is stronger after the abuse,” I say, and it’s the first thing I’ve said besides hello.

They both look at me, and Camilla smirks. “Huh, that’s a good idea, Olivia. I like it. What do you think, Sofie?”

I freeze, my blood running cold.

“Her name is Liv, Camilla,” Sofie says and rolls her eyes. “You know that.”

“I’m not good with names, and your eyes are that strange olive color,” Camilla replies, waving her off. “I just got mixed up, but you must get that a lot.”

“Sure,” I say and give her a small smile, forcing myself to calm down. We agree to listen to the song to get some ideas for the routine, but while I’m playing it, I can’t help but think about Liam.

We’re in the middle of shooting our latest dance video for our YouTube channel. Our subscriber count just hit five million, so we want to make something special to celebrate. The choreography is difficult, and the humidity is making me feel gross and sticky under all the makeup, but of course, none of that will show on camera.

Liam’s been adamant about making sure I look perfect, meaning exactly how he wants me to look. My nails were done yesterday, filed to an almond shape and painted pink, and I bleached my brown roots blonde again because Liam doesn’t like my natural hair color. He thinks it’s too ordinary, and we can’t be ordinary. I have to be exceptional, always looking perfect, never laughing too much or smiling too little. I must be polite but not too friendly.

The happy, loving guy he once was seems to be gone. He’s becoming more and more controlling, dictating what I eat, who I talk to, and how I look. If I don’t obey him, he gets angry or doesn’t speak to me. It’s not easy working with your boyfriend and being so public with our relationship doesn’t help either. All these women who lust after Liam comment on our videos and posts that I don’t deserve him, and maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m the problem, and I need to be better.

I stumble during our dance routine, and Liam’s grip tightens, almost bruising me. Lately, he’s been rough with me, and I don’t like it at all. I quickly apologize and we start over, but Liam’s mood continues to darken. We almost make it through the whole routine, but I trip again. Apologizing, I look up into his eyes and see that he’s furious.

Suddenly, the left side of my face explodes in pain, and I realize that he’s just backhanded me. I’m in shock, and so is he.