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“So?” Billie called.
“So what?”
I looked over and her head was turned toward me. She jerked back and glared at me.
“You’re not saying something,” she said finally.
“What?”
“There it is again. Your eyes got wider and you looked away from me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Journey Lynn Cash, I have known you since hup was pup. I know when you’re keeping something from me. You get quiet and try to look away,” she lectured me.
“I’m not.” I sat up alone and looked around. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t breathe. I got up and rushed out.
“What’s going on?” Billie asked, following me out of the door. She was wearing an electric blue tank top and white biker shorts. She looked like we’d just stepped out of some eighties movie. I was wearing an old black sweat suit that made me look slender and long like the other ladies.
“It’s Dame,” I said slowly.
“Dame?”
There were a few other women standing in the lobby of the studio, so she pulled me into a corner.
“You’re still thinking about him?”
I nodded.
“Don’t feel bad about it, Journey. That’s natural. Shit, he’s fine as hell, young, and rich. Who wouldn’t think about him?” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “You did spend a lot of time with him when he came to the school. So, it’s only natural for you to have fantasies.”
“I guess so.” I looked over at the women who were beginning to file out of the classroom, hoping Billie wouldn’t ask any more questions.
“You’re looking away again.” She jabbed me on the shoulder with her fingers. “Wait ... something happened. Something really happened. Did you see him again? Did you go out with Dame?”
“We didn’t go out. We just went—”
“And you didn’t tell me? You didn’t tell your best friend that you went out with a rapper, who happens to be your former student, who’s ten years younger than you, and completely fine and filthy rich?” she said with mock seriousness. “That’s completely scandalous. I’m your best friend! That’s why I’m here!”
“Billie, there’s no scandal. And I didn’t tell you because you’re so busy running around with Mustafa and there was nothing to tell. He just wanted me to hear his music, so we went for a ride and then we went to listen to some music at Fat Albert’s.” I tried to sound as cool and nonchalant as possible. If I got excited, Billie was sure to double it.
“You went to Fat Albert’s? After all these years, you went to Fat Albert’s without me?”
Billie and I went into the locker room and I told the entire story about the time Dame and I spent together. About how I felt when we danced. And how afraid I was to continue to feel this way about him.
“Don’t worry about it, Journey,” she said after we’d gotten dressed and were standing outside in the parking lot near our cars. “It’s just a crush. He’s new and exciting and I’m sure married people go through this all the time.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?”
“What do you mean? You can’t possibly be thinking of really, really doing anything with him?” She looked at me. “It could never work. It’s like that old saying, a dog and a fish can marry, but where will they live?”
“I think that was a bird and a fish.”
“You know what I mean. Look, the point is it can’t work. Now, you can either pretend it didn’t happen until the feeling goes away, or you can try to see Dame for who he really is. A young rapper, who’s still trying to figure himself out. He’s in no way ready for the things you’re doing. He’s a kid. Probably doesn’t even have a retirement fund in his own name. And I’m sure, once you get past the muscles, and the money, and the fame, and the success, and the car—what kind of car was that again?”
“A Bentley.”
“Yes—and the car, and the travel, and that chocolate skin, and those tattoos, and the way he walks, and the—”
