Chapter 11
Magnolia
Ishake another bag of ice into the tub, hissing between my teeth as the cold snap nearly burns my feet. “Buck up, Banks,” I whisper under my breath, wincing as I adjust my feet so they are fully immersed in the ice water.
My head falls back, face tilted toward the bathroom ceiling as I puff out my cheeks. Fifteen minutes, I tell myself. Just fifteen minutes to calm the swelling, and then I can switch to warm socks and my heating pad.
As the seconds tick by, the sting of the ice starts to fade. I’d like to say that I'm used to it after all these years of ballet, but I’m not, my feet have just finally gone numb. There’s a pink tinge starting to mix with the water, the open sores on my heels making themselves known.
I remind myself this is all part of the gig. The effects of six hour practices during the day followed by back-to-back shows night after night.
Reaching for my phone, I swipe my thumb across the screen, hoping there’s a message from Lukas. Something, anything. I miss him so much my stomach hurts, and knowing that he’s packing up, ready to leave for boot camp any day has the sting moving from my feet to behind my eyes.
I’ve tried to keep the fears at bay. I don’t personally know anyone who is in the military.
My grandpa had been, prior to my dad being born, but the teenager in me didn’t think to ask him what he went through.
He’d offer a random story here or there, but what I wouldn’t give to be able to sit down with him as an adult and ask more.
A solitary tear glides down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I pull up my photo album on my phone, swiping through picture after picture of Lukas and me.
My eyes blur as I look, going all the way back to high school. To junior prom where we somehow look like babies even though it was a little over five years ago.
What will the next five years look like for us?
Will we be together in five years?
I shake my head, needing to brush away those kinds of thoughts before they even take hold.
I tell myself that it’s the fatigue, that I just need to lie in bed, curl up under the blankets, and sleep for the next ten hours, pretending that the uncertainty of mine and Lukas’s future isn’t lurking around the corner.
A knock on the bathroom door interrupts my thoughts. “Yeah?”
“Are you almost done?” my roommate, Stacy, asks. “I need to pee.”
I swirl my feet through the icy water, noting it’s starting to melt from the warmth of my body. “Yeah,” I call out, lifting my feet and resting them on the towel I had ready next to the tub.
My poor toes are red and torn apart. The callouses and bunions on the sides of my feet are beaten and raw from wearing old shoes.
My feet are so numb I can’t tell when they are flat on the floor.
I stretch my toes against the towel, wiggling them a few times, trying to get some of the blood to work its way back through.
I pop the drain on the tub, letting the ice water clear out. Taking a quick glance in the bathroom mirror at my tear-streaked face, I splash some cold water against my cheeks, trying not to look as pathetic as I feel.
Opening the door, I hobble through the cramped apartment I share with my roommate, Stacy, and she side-eyes me, giggling as I limp toward my bedroom. She holds up her wine glass. “You choose ice, I choose fruit juice.”
I manage a small laugh. “Fruit juice—is that what the kids call it these days?”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to have a glass? Maybe it’d make everything a little better…” she trails off, tilting her head to the side with a sad smile.
“No, thanks. I think I just need to go to bed.”
“Magnolia! It’s Saturday night! Some of the girls are coming over to celebrate. We don’t have to be at practice for, like…” She does the math in her head, flipping the fingers up on her opposite hand. “Like thirteen hours!”
I press my fingertips to my lips, blowing her a kiss. “That means thirteen hours to lie in bed and cry myself to sleep.”
She juts out her bottom lip in a pout. “Boo, you whore.” Then heaves her shoulders in a sigh. “Have you talked to him?” she asks softly, and I shake my head no.
“Left a message, waiting for a call back.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want to get drunk with us and cry about it? I’d love to pop your booze cherry.”
“I’ve drank before, goof, just … never been drunk.”
Lukas and I are the same in that way. In high school, when our friends wanted to steal booze from their parents and find some random clearing in the woods where they could drink it, we’d tag along, but spend our time with each other.
The peer pressure wasn’t ever there because Lukas was always at my side.
He took it in stride a little better than I did.
There were always whispers that I was too prissy and uptight.
Whatever they had to say, I didn’t care, and Lukas didn’t care.
That’s always what mattered to me.
We both had our respective careers to think about. Anytime we weren’t together or at school was time we spent working out, training, pushing ourselves to be the best we could be.
And now, Lukas will be doing that, except in the military.
“Goodnight, Stace.” Before I fully leave her pouting in the living room, I turn back. “Breakfast tomorrow, my treat?”
“Bottomless mimosas?” she teases, and I know she wouldn’t want that if we have all-day rehearsals, but I nod anyway.
“Anything for you.”
The soft click of my bedroom door shuts out the outside world, and I turn, pressing my shoulders to the wood.
I look around my room, taking in the simple space. A modest double bed, a small nightstand, a picture of Lukas and me from last Christmas propped up in a frame.
I catch a glance at myself in my full-length mirror; the exhaustion and stress is written in the dark circles under my eyes.
Flicking off the overhead light, I let the glow from my bedside lamp illuminate my path. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I slide on my fuzziest, warmest socks, and then roll over, tucking my feet under my heavy down comforter.
I reach my hand under the blankets, feeling around for the familiar soft fabric of my teddy bear. He’s shoved all the way at the bottom, having been lost under the blankets during my fitful sleep last night.
Stacy would never let me live it down if she knew I was in my twenties and still slept with a teddy bear, but it was the first gift I ever received from Lukas when we started dating.
The first Valentine's Day we spent together as more than just friends, and even though its once curly fur is now worn and matted, I swear it still smells like the cologne he used to wear.
I flick off the bedside table lamp and roll over, exhaling roughly into the quiet room.
I’m just about to drift off when there’s a knock on my door.
I twist to look over my shoulder, wondering what Stacy needs that can’t wait until morning.
The clock reads a little after eleven, and even though I love the girls that I can hear giggling somewhere in the apartment, I’m a little annoyed that she disturbed me.
“Yeah?” I call out, rolling over on my back.
“Hey,” she says, voice chipper. “Can you open the door? I have something for you.”
“Can it wait til morning?” I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth to stop it from wobbling. “I’m so tired, Stace.”
She knocks again. “No, it can’t. Want me to just bring it in?”
I furrow my brow in the dark, wondering what she’s getting at. If she opens that door and tries to give me a glass of wine or one of her edibles, I'm going to be pissed right off.
I sit up, shoving off my blankets with a little more force than they deserve. Flicking on my bedside lamp, I grimace as my stiff feet take the few paces to my door.
“Whatever you have, it better—” my words die off when I twist the handle and open the door, coming face to face with Lukas.
Lukas. Who has a duffle bag over one shoulder and a bouquet of flowers in the other, standing so tall his broad frame is almost comical in the tiny doorway of my even smaller apartment.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he rasps, his mouth stretching into a smile.
Something inside me gives way. The last strand of strength I had been holding onto breaks. My eyes well, and I take one pitiful baby step toward him before my body gives out, and I slump.
But as always, Lukas is there to catch me. He drops his bag and the bouquet to the floor, and his steady arms scoop me up before I have time to fold. With a move only a lifelong cowboy could muster, he lifts my entire body up and into his arms.
I wrap my legs around his waist, and curl my arms around his shoulders as I bury my face in his neck, whimpering my hello.
I briefly peek over his shoulder to see Stacy give me a satisfied smile and a cocky lift of her brow before Lukas takes a giant step into my room, using his foot to kick the door shut.
He steps over his bag, and then he closes the distance between the hall and my bed, lying me down as gentle as a baby.
My hands cling to his shoulders, as if I'm terrified that it’s all a dream, that if I lose my hold on him I'll wake up to find myself sweat-soaked and alone. “Tell me you’re really here,” I whisper, and he steps back, shedding his jacket, letting it fall to the floor.
His shadows bounce off the pale wall as he strips off his sweatshirt and tee, and then his boots and jeans, stalking toward me in just his briefs. My favorite version of Lukas.
I sit up, wanting to do the same. Knowing that the heat from his body will warm me better than any layer of clothing.
Stripping off my sweatshirt, I toss it to the floor next to me without taking my eyes off of his.
I shuffle out of my sweatpants, shoving them off the side of my bed, leaving me in just underwear and a tank.
“How? I thought you didn’t have any more time before you left? ”