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And the next day, his account was deleted altogether.
Quinn kind of lost track of him until last year, when he’d shown up at the Y, saying his basement apartment was just too confining. He’d gotten his GED instead of returning to high school, and now, at nineteen, he was working two jobs while taking here-and-there classes at the local community college.
But he could still dance like no one she’d ever seen.
Quinn missed a cue and almost ended up with her face planted in the wood floor. Adam caught her, and she struggled to right herself.
“See?” she snapped. “I can’t keep up with you.”
“No,” he said, putting a hand on her waist to set her straight. “I actually think your friend was right. It was missing a partner.”
“Do you know anyone who can do it with you?”
Adam gave her half a smile. “I thought you were.”
Her eyes flared. “No! This is your audition piece. I’m sure you know someone—”
“I do know someone. I’m looking at her.”
“Oh, I get it, you think having someone do a face plant on stage will make you look better?”
Now he grinned. He was insanely adorable and she was instantly reminded of why she’d had a crush on him in the first place. “Afraid?”
“I—just—you—”
“Yes,” Nick called from behind her. “She is.”
Quinn scowled. “I’d mess it up for you.”
“I’ve auditioned three times and gotten nowhere. I don’t think you could mess it up for me.” He paused, and his eyes went serious. “There’s a different energy to it now. Can’t you feel it?”
Actually, she could. Despite nearly smashing her face in, up to that point, the music had seemed to carry her, like her movement and the song had combined to form something more potent than just a hastily thrown-together dance in a dusty backroom studio at the Y.
She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to imagine how massive and ungainly she looked next to Adam. “When is your audition?”
“Next month. Four weeks.”
“Four weeks?” she exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?”
“Come on, that’s nothing.”
“Yes, but—but—”
“Don’t let her out of it,” Nick said.
Quinn swung her head around. “Maybe we can cut the commentary?”
Nick met her eyes from across the room, and held them. “Sure, if you say yes.”
“But I don’t—”
“Jesus, Quinn,” Nick snapped. “What else do you have to do?”
And that was one of the things she liked about Nick. He put up with her whining until she was almost sick of herself, and then he called her on her bullshit.
At least it would get her out of the house and away from her mother. And Jake.
And away from those idiot cheerleaders.
