Chapter 2 #2
For a moment, there is complete silence between us, and I’m about to turn the color of a tomato, possibly even dash away, but then Chase shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I’ll walk you over.”
The frown on his face seems to deepen as he faces forward, stuffing his phone in his pocket, and when I don’t move to follow him, he glances at me over his shoulder.
“You really don’t have to walk with me. I’m happy to meet up with everyone in a bit. Honest.”
He curses lightly to himself and comes back this way, pausing in front of me.
“Sorry, I’ve just… My head is a little busy right now.
Come on.” He yanks his chin toward the café and slowly, I fall in step beside him.
“Just smack me if you see me pull my phone out again, all right? Better yet.” He takes his phone from his pocket, powering it off, and swings his backpack around, stuffing the electronic in the small zipper pouch.
“You don’t have to do that on my account.”
“I won’t get a damn thing accomplished today if I don’t ignore it for at least a little while.” His shoulders tense, his eyes cutting my way as if he’s said too much when he’s said virtually nothing at all.
I want to ask him what’s been bothering him, as it’s obvious something has. He disappeared a lot this summer, backing out on some of the day-to-day plans we’d make at the last minute.
“I get it.” I level with him instead. “Trust me. My…grandfather…” I can’t help but chuckle.
“God, I don’t think that will ever not be weird to say.
Anyway, he’s sort of, I don’t know, needy?
I don’t want to hurt his feelings because he’s trying and stuff.
It’s all so new, so I haven’t really figured out how to go about things, basically making myself available when I’m not. ”
“Sounds like a very Paige thing to do.”
I look up at him, wondering what that means.
Chase chuckles, seeing the question in my eyes, and faces ahead. “I don’t know, you’re like this…pretty little doll, all perfect and poised, always worrying about what other people think or need.”
My head snaps forward, and I go as far as to point my smile in the opposite direction of him to try to hide it, doing my best to rein myself in.
The blood in my veins should not be dancing at his words, especially when he’s just being kind.
I am far from perfect, and the poised thing is simply a result of a dancer’s posture—that and trying to appear a little taller than my five-foot frame.
It’s sad really, maybe even a little pathetic, how nice it feels to hear him say that about me, but that’s me: starved for, I don’t know… something more, I guess.
Your secret billionaire grandfather is offering you an entirely new life. How much more could you possibly want, Paige?
“I’m sorry. If that sounded patronizing, that wasn’t—”
I whip around, reaching up to grip his bicep. “No, no. It didn’t. Thank you for what you said, and it’s true. Well, the last part.” I laugh lightly, walking inside the café as he holds the door open. “Hence, why I’ve been late so much.”
“So it’s the grandfather keeping you busy, then? Not the repairs at your studio or a guy or somethin’?”
I peek over at him, and that little frown of his is back as he stares at the menu. Was that anxiousness in his tone?
I shake off the thought, trying to decide how to respond. I’m too embarrassed to tell him the “studio repairs” are nonexistent because I spent the rest of my dad’s life insurance money on the building, leaving nothing left to insure the actual building after paying my tuition fees for this year.
“It’s most definitely a man.” My eyes lock onto hazel ones. “A seventy-five-year-old man who is built like a boxer, who doesn’t look a day over fifty-five, who I’m expected to call Grandpa.”
Chase laughs loudly and I can’t help but smile. “Needy. Got it, makes sense now.”
We’re next in line so I glance up at him again.
“Will you let me get you a coffee or something?” I haven’t even finished my sentence before he tries shuffling from the line, intent on declining.
“It will make me feel better about you having to fight off the scary girl with dark hair at the end of our row. I know she wants that middle seat we’ve claimed. ”
Chase’s lips hook up to one side. “Does she now?”
“Oh yeah.”
“What makes you say that?”
I narrow my eyes playfully. “Did you really not notice she wore an Avix football shirt the last two classes?”
There’s a slight flare in his gaze, one that I think tells me he knows what I’m teasing at, and he might just like that I even caught on to a girl spotting him at all.
He plays along: “Maybe she has a boyfriend on the team?”
This is his way of saying he wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t drawn attention to her, right?
I bite back a smile. “Or maybe wearing the football hoodie has nothing to do with you and she wants that middle seat because she has OCD and sitting two to the right makes her eye twitch.”
He leans down. “Maybe she was born with that twitch.”
I gasp and Chase laughs, his hand landing on the small of my back.
“I’m playing. I still have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Lies!”
“Like you, I’ve been a little too distracted to notice things.”
“Okay, that’s fair.” I step up to the counter, but then his words register, and my attention yanks his way. “Wait, what have I missed?”
“What can I get for you?” the barista asks, and I have no choice but to order.
“Can I get a small, iced chai latte with whipped cream and…” I look to Chase expectantly. “Please?”
He clears his throat. “A small chocolate protein shake.”
He tries to pull his wallet out anyway, but I use the tap feature on my watch to pay before he can and move toward the pickup counter.
“Thanks, Paige. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s just a drink. No big deal, I promise.”
“Right.” He nods, tension creeping back into his expression. “I’m going to use the restroom really fast.”
I nod, watching him go, and then turn back to watch the baristas at work.
It’s so crazy to think that this is finally my last year here. It feels like I’ve been here forever, and I mean, I guess I kind of have. Longer than high school, technically. Even if I did miss an entire year after my dad passed.
While I love it here, it will be nice to put this place behind me. To start the next phase of life and bring all the dreams my dad supported to life.
The claws of regret wrap around my lungs the moment I think that, and my heart starts to hurt for so many reasons. But the one I focus on is the dream that was on its way to becoming a reality, only for fate to step in and deal me the joker card yet again.
A storm, the kind we don’t see in Oceanside, the one that’s almost a myth to coastal California.
It wasn’t a hurricane, nothing that big, but a freak weather system that rolled in unexpectedly, dumping more rain in one night than we’d see in a year there.
The kind of storm that no one could predict, but when it hit, it flooded everything in its path.
The water came first, and the damage was brutal.
What should have been an unfortunate inconvenience, though, turned into a complete disaster, and now the studio that was supposed to be my safe haven, the future home of Paige’s Playground, the youth dance and recreation center I’d wanted to open since as long as I can remember, is unrecognizable.
If Mother Nature could have waited until graduation, then I would have been able to afford to add the “just in case” insurance for my building.
Unfortunately for me, I had none and the place looks worse each time I visit.
The floors are destroyed, as are most of the walls.
The mirrors split from the pressure of the water, and tubs containing a decade’s worth of saved materials for costumes were reduced to a pile of garbage.
Even the bathrooms need to be gutted. The water rot and mold are getting worse by the day because apparently I needed to remove the boards and plug in some fans to try to save the wood—my dad would have known that if he were here.
But also plug in fans? To what and where?
The best I could have done even if I had known was hang them from the damn ceiling, which is not even possible. Sadly, I’m well aware that, the longer it sits, the more likely it will be that the entire infrastructure will need to come down.
I can’t even bring myself to look in my back room again after learning that was the space the roof caved in over, where my brand-new, still had the plastic protector on it, four-thousand-dollar sewing machine and heat press—which wasn’t too far off in price either—were.
My official splurges for myself so I could save hours on costume making.
I never got to use either.
It’s time to face the truth here. By the time the year ends, I might not have a studio to consider, leaving my only option being the one my grandfather is offering.
Would I have to move away if I agreed? I might not have cared if he’d found me two years ago, but I have friends now.
Real friends who care about me, that I care about.
Sure, they have their own lives to build after graduation, but I know they want to stay close to each other, if only by migrating south to the beach every holiday or break they can manage.
I thought, after a few years, I would try to buy something there too.
Would that even be possible if I signed the contract Grant has waiting for me?
Would I have to abandon my plans to be someone for kids who have nobody else?
Get a studio spot somewhere else and let go of the one that’s linked to my father?
A warm hand presses to my elbow, and my eyes fly open, a blurry Chase before me.
I blink rapidly, not having realized I’d closed my eyes and embarrassed by the moisture I feel building in my lashes. “Sorry, I…”
Worry lines his forehead, and he hands me my chai latte, his protein shake in his other hand.
Silently, we move toward the exit and step outside.
“Um,” I begin, hoping he won’t ask. “Looks like we passed the perfect amount of time. We might even get to the dining hall before the others.”
“No break for me actually.”
I look over at him in question.
“I have some work I need to get done, so I’m going to the library.”
“Oh, well, you’ll probably get to say hi in passing, at least.”
“Uh.” He stops walking so I pause and face him, lifting my hand to block the sun. “I’m going to go this way.” He points behind him. “I have to ask one of my professors something really fast.” He lifts his shake. “But thanks for lunch.”
I smile, waving awkwardly as he heads off in the opposite direction, skipping our preplanned group lunch for the second time in a row.
Facing forward, I head for the cafeteria, the others coming into view right away.
They spot me coming and Cameron lets out a low, teasing whistle, pretending to be pulling me toward her by an invisible rope, so I hurry my steps as much as my short legs will allow.
I notice the moment the boys realize Chase isn’t with me. Brady, one of his best friends, pulls his phone out right away, likely to text him. Unfortunately for him, Chase turned his phone off, so I doubt he’ll get a reply anytime soon.
Maybe he has just as much going on off campus as I do, though I doubt his is related to a massive amount of money that could change his future entirely.
Right?