Chapter 19
NINETEEN
ETHAN
She wasn’t coming.
I knew she wasn’t coming, but that didn’t stop me from craning my neck for a better view of the door.
She wasn’t there, and I was left the idiot who thought our love could conquer her fears. That somehow, my feelings for her were all she needed to find her confidence.
Someone slap me now and wake me from my horribly optimistic nightmare.
The academy had assigned one of the smaller studios as a waiting room for all those who were auditioning.
Dancers filed in and out, their expressions tense and their eyes not meeting mine as they stretched and warmed up.
The anticipation in this room was nerve wracking.
I had to remind myself over and over again that this audition wasn’t that big of a deal for me. Juilliard wasn’t even my dream.
It was Collette’s.
I looked over to the door for the millionth time, trying to ignore the stab of bitter disappointment that flared up again. This audition couldn’t end soon enough.
Part of me wanted to go out into the hallway to look for Collette, but the hall was filled with family members and teachers who were slipping in and out of the auditorium to watch the auditions.
I glanced over at Bianca and tried to focus on watching her warmup routine. It was better than sitting here in the corner like a chump, tuning my guitar for the twentieth time.
Bianca looked perfect. I mean, despite the classes, I still didn’t know much about ballet. But she looked the part. All rigid lines and mind-blowing balance. But in my eyes she paled in comparison to Collette.
Of course, my opinion mattered to no one. Certainly not to Juilliard. But I couldn’t help but note that while Bianca looked perfect—she had none of Collette’s passion. Her expression was hard. Determined. She didn’t get that dreamy look that Collette got whenever she danced.
She looked… Well, she looked kind of miserable.
Nothing at all like Collette.
“Dude, don’t tell me you have a thing for the ice queen now.” Ryan’s voice jarred me out of my daze and I turned to see him sliding down the mirrored wall beside me so he was sitting next to me with his legs sprawled out.
He seemed comically laid back compared to the nervous, high-strung dancers in this room and it took me a moment of staring at him before I fully registered that he was here. At the academy. On a Friday morning. When he should have been at school.
“Ryan, what are you doing here?”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “What do you mean ‘what am I doing here?’ My best friend is about to audition for Juilliard. Did you really think I wouldn’t come here to cheer you on?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t really given it much thought either way.
I’d told him about the auditions yesterday—I’d told him my plan.
But I’d also told him that the only reason I was doing this was for Collette.
“She’s not going to show,” I said. I kind of hoped that by saying it aloud, the idea would finally sink in.
Like maybe if I openly acknowledged it, I’d stop waiting.
I’d stop hoping. I’d stop looking at the door like some pathetic puppy dog.
His expression was sympathetic but he didn’t try to argue the point. Which was good. I didn’t want anyone to give me false hope and that’s all it would be.
“Her loss, man,” Ryan said.
I swallowed hard. That thought didn’t make me feel better.
It only made my heart ache on Collette’s behalf.
It would be her loss. She was the one who’d be missing out on a chance to go after her dreams. She’d be the one choosing to live with her insecurities and fears rather than take a leap of faith.
It would be her choice to go back to her old life of dancing alone, after dark…without me.
I let my head fall back against the mirror with a thud.
Nope, knowing that it was her loss definitely didn’t make me feel any better. Her loss was my loss. And if she didn’t show today, I’d be losing her for good.
“I don’t know if I can do this, man.” I said it quietly and for the first time in maybe forever Ryan didn’t have a snarky comeback or even a lazy smile. He was one hundred percent serious when he turned to me.
“You’re already doing it.” He shrugged. “You showed up. That’s all anyone can ask. You showed up for me and the band last night and you’re showing up for your girl today.” He nudged my arm with his elbow. “I’m proud of you, man.”
The silence that followed was awkward. Ryan and I weren’t big on emotional moments, and I had no idea how to tell him that his words meant a lot.
Ryan cleared his throat loudly. Way too loudly. Loudly enough that a certain prissy blonde took notice.
Bianca stopped mid-dancing to glare over at him. “What are you doing here?”
Ryan leaned closer to me. “Ten bucks says I can get the ice queen to smile,” he said, his cocky smile returning.
I moved to say something, but Ryan had already made his decision.
He gave Bianca a smirk—one that always made her face redden and her glare to deepen during dance class. “I came to cheer you on, sweetheart,” he said with a wink.
She narrowed her eyes in a frightening glare before turning her back on him and launching back into her routine as if he’d never interrupted.
Ryan leaned over with a loud stage whisper. “She loves me.”
I shook my head with an exasperated huff of air—the closest thing to a laugh I could muster. “Yeah, you really have her wrapped around your finger.”
He was grinning for real when he turned to me. “Hey, you might not have gotten the girl, but at least one good thing has come out of all this.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
He nodded toward the door, which I’d been successful at avoiding since he sat down. “You finally stood up to your dad.”
I whipped my head around to see…my dad? Shock had me staring with wide eyes as he entered the little studio, glancing left and right with a look of unease that spoke volumes about how out of place he felt.
Not surprisingly. I couldn’t imagine my dad had spent much time at dance academies over the years.
My mother followed him in, looking stiff and stoic with her chin held high as she too took in the sight of all these girls. They spotted me before I could cover my surprise and in a few strides they were standing next to me as I scrambled to my feet.
Ryan nudged my arm again. “I’d better grab a spot in the audience. Make me proud, man.”
He headed toward the door with a nod and smile for my parents and a ‘break a leg, princess’ for Bianca.
I was pretty sure I heard her snarl in return but I was too busy eyeing my parents. “What are you guys doing here?”
They exchanged a look as I held my breath. Sure, I’d been the one to tell them about this audition and yeah, I’d invited them. But I hadn’t actually thought they’d come. And now I had to wonder why they were here…was it to support me or to try and talk some sense into me?
My father cleared his throat. “Your mother and I have been talking…”
My mom gave me a little smile which eased some of the tension that had been building.
“We heard what you were saying,” my father said, his voice so stiff it made him sound almost…nervous. “And we agree that perhaps you have a valid point.”
My brows shot up in surprise.
“We’ve only ever wanted what was best for you,” my mother said, her voice quiet and filled with a plea.
I nodded. “I know that.”
Her smile was filled with gratitude, like she was worried I was going to yell at her or something.
“I understand you wanted the best for me,” I continued, my own voice just as stiff as my father’s because this was totally new territory for me.
For us. My family never talked openly like this and doing it here, now…
it was as awkward as it got. “But what you need to understand is that what’s best for me might not always be what you envision. ”
My father’s jaw was clenched tight and I waited for him to start arguing. When he didn’t, I pressed on. “What I need you to understand is that I want to make you proud. I do. But more than that I have to make myself proud.”
I dipped my head to look down at the guitar. “I’m not sure yet what my future will hold, but I do know that I need the freedom to figure it out.”
The silence that followed nearly crushed me with its weight.
When my father spoke I lifted my head to meet his gaze head on. “You’re right.” He cleared his throat again, a nervous tic I’d never seen before. “I raised you to be a leader, and that means making your own choices.”
His jaw was still tight, his body too rigid. I could see what it took for him to say those words and relief swept over me, lightening some of the weight that had been crushing me. “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.”
He looked away and then back to me. “I know I’m not always the best father, but I hope you know that I…” He cleared his throat. “That I love you.”
He muttered it under his breath and quickly, like it was an embarrassing admission and that made me fight a laugh. “I know,” I said. “And I love you too.” I looked to my mom. “Both of you.”
My father looked away again, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m not sure how to be the kind of father you deserve.”
My heart clenched painfully in my chest at the raw admission. What Ryan said came back to me and I found myself repeating his words. “You showed up,” I said. “That’s a start.”
He gave me a wan smile before nodding toward the door. “I guess we’ll go find ourselves a seat, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that would be…nice.”
They walked away and I had one moment of peace before a woman I didn’t recognize walked in with a clipboard. “Ethan Morrison, you’re up!”
“Good luck, Ethan.” The normally quiet Eve shouted it from the other side of the room and I shot her a quick smile of gratitude as I headed toward the woman with the clipboard, guitar in hand…ready to make a fool of myself in front of my parents, Ryan, and a handful of Juilliard elite.
Awesome.
As the woman led me down the hall toward the auditorium, I cast one last look around for Collette, hating the disappointment that made me want to run out of here and never look back.
I couldn’t do that because I’d made a promise. I’d told her I’d be here, that I’d play the guitar on this stage no matter what. I’d given my word and I’d see it through—I owed her that much.
After all, Collette had changed my life. She’d opened my eyes, she’d helped me see what I wanted, what made me happy, and how I’d been running away from it all like a coward. Whether she’d meant to or not, she’d helped me find the confidence I’d needed to stand up to my father.
Whether she’d meant to or not, she’d made me fall in love with her. And that wasn’t something I could forget or walk away from…even if she could.
“You ready?” The lady with the clipboard looked frazzled and impatient.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said.
She gave a short nod and threw open the door. I walked in to a silent, intimidating room with a small stage, a spotlight, and several rows of seats that were packed with people.
I couldn’t make out all the faces thanks to the lights, and maybe that was for the best. If I was up there alone, I could pretend I was in the dance studio, playing only for myself and for Collette.
I could ignore the questioning looks and the whispered questions of why a dance audition was being overrun by a mediocre guitarist playing Coldplay.
There were no seats on stage so I stood in the middle, holding my guitar up and looking one last time toward the door.
Nothing.
It was just me.
Alone.
“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Morrison,” a voice called out.
I could have heard a pin drop in the silence of that auditorium. I gave a nod, unable to form words as I started to pluck out the first few notes of the song I knew by heart.
I’d only played two chords when my song was interrupted by the click of the door opening. My head snapped up, my hands froze.
I think I knew it was her before I even saw her. My heart knew the moment the door clicked. I saw her silhouette first, her perfect body a dark outline against the bright lights of the hallway.
And then she was moving toward me into the light, her expression filled with more emotions than I could read. Hope, fear, regret…love.
At least, I hoped it was love that had her eyes shining with unshed tears as she met my gaze and held it.
It might have been seconds or years—the silence between us was filled with meaning. Thankfully, my fingers took on a life of their own and music filled the air. It allowed me to stand there, completely consumed with my feelings of love and admiration for Collette.
My heart thudded painfully in my chest. Hope was overwhelming; it made my ribcage feel like it might burst with pressure, it made my pulse race and my heart leap.
It took everything in me not to drop the guitar and race toward her. I needed her in my arms more than I needed air to breathe.
But then she went up on tiptoe and I knew that was my cue.
She was doing this. My beautiful, graceful, passionate, perfect Collette was putting herself out there.
She was taking a leap of faith.
My heart nearly burst but I shoved aside my emotions and focused on my guitar. With a nod, I gave her the cue to start and we were off.
She was off. Dancing in the way that mesmerized me as my music filled the air. Her body light and graceful as she moved to the tune of Coldplay’s Fix You the way she had so many times before.
But this time was different.
She was different.
And I had never been more in love.