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I hate that I let her. Thatwelet her.
Kate Bush’s words fuel my ire, they move my feet. Ishould’verun after her. Ishould’vedone something. She was right to be angry at me. I saw the disappointment in her eyes after we left Grim’s club. I felt the accusation, her hurt, because it was warranted. I did nothing that night, just like I did nothing to stop her walking away three years ago.
I let my anger, my jealousy, my disappointment and hate rule me at Rocks. I was a kid who’d never loved anyone before Pen, nor since. She broke us all and I wasn’t man enough to do anything about it at the time. Every one of us had felt that hurt before when other girls had used us to get to Jeb, but we never loved them like we loved Pen. So I was selfish in my anguish. I wallowed in it for months, then I threw myself into doing shitty things because hurting other people made me numb. I didn’t want to feel anything. But I’m different now. Things have changed. Something’s gotta give because she’s the Ginger to my Fred, always has been and it’s time I’m honest with myself, with her. Fuck hiding. Fuck hating. Fuck Xeno and his goddamn inability to see sense. Fuck Jeb.
Fuckhimmost of all.
There are no words to describe my next steps, only feeling. I move through all the usual tap sequences, but none of them are enough to really portray all that I’m feeling. So, I do what Pen did Friday night. I push the boundaries, I do it for her, for Titch.
My girl.
Ourgirl.
I rip open my fucking chest and let her see the mess she made of my heart.
Pen’s jaw tightens as she watches me, and this time instead of showing me every last emotion like she did on Friday, she holds onto that beautiful mask she’s an expert at wearing these days and begins to move instead. Like mine, her steps begin angry too, and we counter each other. Two people head to head, like boxers in a ring. Opponents. Enemies. Adversaries.
Every step is a punch to my gut, an uppercut to my chin, a slam to my cheek.
Anger fills her once more, just like it had at Grim’s club and I’m reminded of the way she’d bent over in front of Zayn, how her perfect, rounded arse and pussy had been on display for him. I had to will myself not to get up and snatch her away from the fucker and knock him out. I’ve never been jealous of my friends and their relationship with Pen when we were kids. We all loved each other, wewantedto share the most precious thing to us, at least in the end we had. But that night, I both wanted her and wanted to protect her from my best friend. I thought he was going to hurt her, but he didn’t get a chance. She didn’t need me to step in because she fought for herself.
My girl. My fighter. My Titch.
Pen is a warrior. She’scourageousand worth a million times more than any of our sorry arses. She lambasted us, blasted us apart and not one of us has been the same since that night. Even Xeno, who’s still trying to deny he feels anything for Pen. The motherfucker refuses to acknowledge what he feels. He lied to my face when I confronted him. He said that he didn’t give a shit about Pen, but I know different because you can’t kid a kidder, and this kidder is done kidding himself.
Right now, as Pen dances before me, I let her see what I trulyfeelin my steps as I read her own. For someone with no formal training in tap, she’s amazing. I mean, I’ve had no formal training either but my absolute love for tap as a kid made me determined to get every step perfect. There have only ever been two obsessions in my life. I’m dancing one of them and looking at the other. I might have given up dance when Pen walked away, but being back here with her has changed shit. Call it muscle memory, but I’ve easily fallen back into dancing again as though I never stopped. Coming back, being here at Stardom Academy, seeing Pen again has revived my heart in a way that scares the shit out of me. I’m a great dancer, yes, but only because of her, because of Pen. She brings out the best in me, always has.
For the briefest of moments I look over at Sasha who’s watching me closely. I’ve been training with her in private since starting here, and whilst I appreciate her assistance, and admire her talent, I’m not interested in her in quite the way she’s interested in me. There’s no doubt that her little display earlier was for me. She’s pissed that I turned her down and by the end of this dance, I think she’ll understand just who it is that occupies my heart and soul.
Titch.
I can admit that now.
A loud crack of Pen’s toe-cap hitting the board forces my attention back to her, back to the only woman who’s ever ruled my heart. Her moves match mine, mirroring me, or at least she tries to, and her tenacity to keep up with my steps does something to me. In dance she’s never afraid to push past her limits, to make mistakes and learn from them. She was always the beating heart of the Breakers, and I’m reminded of that right here, right now. My steps falter, and the anger falls away as I allow myself to feel something other than hate.
She notices.
And her footwork changes too, her steps altering, becoming heavy, delayed, sombre.
Tap isn’t her first love and she trips a little over her feet trying to transition from a complicated sequence of steps through to a shuffle ball change. Correcting herself, she moves into a cramp stomp to the left then switches to a bombershay ending in a low foot slide, bowing to me. My throat fucking squeezes alongside my bloody heart.
She’s sayingsorry. Emphatically, with her body, her whole fucking soul.
Her face might not be giving anything away, but there’s no denying her steps or the meaning behind them. So I do the same becauseIcan’t deny my feelings a fucking second longer.
Stepping into her space, my right foot reaches between her open stance and I tap a softer sequence that has me leaning into her. It’s not easy to express softness in tap like it is for other dances, but it is possible. Leaning in, Pen’s close enough that I can draw in her scent, that intoxicating mix that I’ve never been able to identify but is so perfectly, unashamedlyher. It’s like a drug. Heady, enthralling. It makes my stupid cock twitch in my pants. It makes me want to fucking kiss her, right here, right now, in front of everyone. Pen’s eyes meet mine and a million emotions are portrayed in them. She has opened up and has allowed me to see right into the complexities of her.
She’s the defiant little girl beneath that oak tree, bruised and battered but never beaten.
She’s the woman with secrets that weigh her down, but will not end her.
She’s the dancer that inspires passion in others.
She’s her. She’s Titch.
And just like that, I’m a goner.
Hook, line, and fucking sinker.
