Chapter 19
Zoe
What would you do if you couldn’t dance?
That’s a mean question. I have no idea. I really don’t. I’ve always danced, my whole life. I can’t even imagine life without ballet. I know that I should have a plan B just in case, but I don’t.
—P
I can’t stop thinking about Jase. This is crazy. I didn’t think about him for an entire year. But now I think of almost nothing else.
Since his hands were on my shoulders in the attic studio a couple of days ago, I can’t stop thinking about how it felt to be touched by him. It was different than in class. It felt natural. We didn’t dance, we just stood there, and his hands touched my arms. Inch by inch.
The memory makes me warm. Why did it feel so good? The answer is quite simple. Because it was Jase who was standing behind me, and those were his hands moving up my arms.
How does that feel?
It feels like you.
The fact is that I can always tell him the truth, and at the same time, I’m hiding far too much from him. Maybe I should tell him everything, just let it out. Somehow I want to, but somehow I don’t. Why is everything always so complicated?
Why can’t I just tell him?
I sigh quietly. Too much has happened, and Jase has changed too, just like me. We aren’t the same as we were before.
I reach for the little box on my nightstand.
It’s been there for a few days, since Jase gave me the first note.
In the meantime, he’s received two secrets from me, and I’ve gotten one from him.
I try not to think about the notes that I’ve written to him over the last year that are still lying in the treehouse in my parents’ yard, waiting for him to read them.
My heart clenches as I take out the crumpled ball of paper. I smooth it out and read his secret for the thousandth time in the last thirty-six hours.
Why do you need a scholarship?
My parents cut off my funds.
—Jase
I trace his untidy writing with my finger.
I hate his parents. What they’re doing is totally unfair.
I want to help him, but I know he would never accept my help.
I want to ask more. I want to ask him everything.
I want to know who Sam is and why his parents refuse to support his dream.
I want to know how he feels, and above all, I want to know if he hates me or if he just doesn’t care about me.
I want to know if I was the only one who felt something when we were standing there in front of the mirror.
I’m startled by a soft knock on my door.
I quickly fold the note and put it back in the box.
On the way to the door, I kick aside the new pointe shoes lying on the floor of my room.
I bought them today during the lunch break, and I still need to sew the satin ribbons on and break them in.
My last pair was used up, and it’s time for me to prepare the new ones.
Normally, preparing my pointe shoes is almost meditative, a routine I’ve had for years that helps me stop overthinking for a while. But today, my mind didn’t calm down at all until I finally read Jase’s note again. And even that didn’t fully work either.
“Just a minute,” I say when the knock repeats. Mae is standing by the door and is regarding me with a worried look.
“Hey,” she says. “Can I come in?”
I silently take a step aside, and she walks into my room.
“You can just throw me out again if I’m too pushy, but the curiosity is killing me. That’s why I had to come. Besides, I’m worried about you.” In the middle of the room, she turns halfway back to the door and waits in case I really do want to throw her out.
I collapse onto the bed and tell her to sit down.
“Thank God,” she says with relief as she sits down on the mattress with me and pulls up her knees.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” I say.
“I know. But I do anyway. You’ve been acting totally strange for days. Sure, we haven’t known each other very long, and basically, I don’t know if you’re acting strange, but I have the feeling that something’s bothering you.”
If you only knew.
I start to braid my hair, giving my hands something to do while I decide what to say to her.
“Is it because of Charlotte?”
I look at her in surprise. I haven’t spared a thought for Charlotte since the last lesson, if only because I’ve suppressed anything that comes up.
We’ve hardly spoken to each other since the first day she showed up, and I should be worried because she’s definitely planning something.
But I have more than enough problems. It’s amazing that Charlotte, of all people, is the least of them.
“Or is it Jase? Because the two of you are giving off some weird vibes.”
The corners of my mouth lift in a barely perceptible smile. “Weird vibes?”
“Yeah. You know.” She makes a gesture that’s supposed to mean something to me, and eventually I figure it out.
“We’ve known each other for a while,” I say, finally, with a sigh. “He was my brother’s best friend.”
“Oh, my God.” Mae’s eyes go wide, with an enthusiastic glitter in them. “Were you a thing? Oh, please tell me you were. Your brother’s best friend. That’s so hot.”
A mirthless laugh escapes from my lips, and a familiar feeling of tension starts building behind my eyes. “No, it wasn’t like that. Well, sort of, but not . . . really. A lot went wrong.”
“Oh man, I’m really sorry. That was stupid of me! I didn’t want to . . . we don’t have to talk about it,” Mae says, backpedaling.
I don’t say anything because I can’t.
“Okay, what if we do something fun tonight? If we stop talking about Charlotte and Jase, do you want to go out? That is, if you want to spend any more time with an insensitive bitch.”
I have to smile. “You’re not insensitive, and you’re definitely not a bitch. Actually, I’m meeting my brother. But if you want, you can come with me. I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”
Mae gives me a mischievous grin. “Is he cute?”
“I can’t answer that because he’s my brother. But you’re not his type anyway.”
* * *
I sit in the lounger with my legs up, watching Mae argue with Tristan, Nick, and my brother about which of the Star Wars trilogies is the best. I can’t contribute much to the discussion because I’ve never seen the movies.
Science fiction just isn’t my thing. Still, there’s something comforting about listening to them talk, seeing Mae laugh, and watching the boys banter with her like she’s been here a thousand times.
But someone is missing, and I don’t mean Reed, whose absence doesn’t particularly affect me. It’s Jase who’s missing. I always miss him when we’re all together, and I wonder if I’m the only one who notices his absence.
I get up and sneak out of the spacious living room without the others noticing.
They’re too caught up in their conversation.
I open the door to the roof terrace and step outside.
It’s chilly and windy, and I briefly consider going back inside to get my jacket but decide against it.
Someone would probably notice me going out, and I need a moment alone.
I lean against the glass railing that surrounds the terrace while the wind tousles my hair.
Boston’s skyline stretches out in front of me.
From up here, you can see as far as the Charles River, and on good days when the wind is blowing in the right direction, you can smell the sea.
The light of the setting sun refracts off the glass facades of the skyscrapers.
Boston’s West End is beautiful. It’s different from Back Bay and Beacon Hill, much more elegant and modern but no less stunning.
“What are you doing out here?” I turn to look when I hear Caleb. He comes over carrying one of his jackets, which he puts around my shoulders. I give him a grateful look.
“Just thinking.”
“Are you okay?” He stands next to me, gently bumping his shoulder against mine.
I breathe a sigh of relief as my pulse remains steady. No tingling, no panic. Thank goodness.
“Charlotte is back.”
“What?” Caleb sounds so horrified that I almost laugh.
“She’s here. We have a few classes together.”
“I thought she was in Paris.”
“That’s what I thought too.” I clutch the railing so tightly that my knuckles turn white.
“Is it bad?”
“It’s Charlotte,” I reply, and that’s enough to answer his question. “But she’s been leaving me alone. For now, at least. Who knows when that will change.”
He sighs and rubs his eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
I shake my head. “That’s nice of you, but you’re already doing enough.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re here.”
“It feels like I’m not doing anything.”
“Caleb—”
“It’s all right,” he says, interrupting me. “I know what you’re going to say now. That I’m talking shit and I should stop.” He rolls his eyes, and I take a deep breath, because I don’t really want to talk about Jase to Caleb. But I should.
“There’s something else . . .” I say slowly, giving myself a chance to gather my courage, and then I spit it out. It doesn’t matter; he has to know. “Jase is my dance partner.”
Caleb freezes next to me. His face is blank, but I can see something in his eyes. He’s trying not to let me notice that he cares, but I know my brother.
“Caleb?” I tap his shoulder carefully.
He shakes his head and then comes back to himself. “Sorry, that was unexpected. How do you feel about it?”
I shrug and bite my lower lip. I might as well spit it out while I’m at it.
“In the first class, everything went wrong. I panicked, and since then . . .” I stop and shrug again, but then it all comes out.
About the first pas de deux class, and the second and third, until the moment that Jase suggested we practice together outside of class.
And that our practice wasn’t ballet but touching.
A deep crease of worry forms between his eyebrows. “Have you talked to Dr. Somers about it?”
“No. If she knows, she’ll tell me to stop, and I can’t do that. I’ll figure this out, I promise.”
Caleb sighs. “You don’t have to promise me. This isn’t about me.”
“Well, yes, it kind of is,” I remind him. And hate myself for it, but I can’t just ignore it. “He was your best friend.”
“And then he wasn’t. For me, it’s over.”
“Are you sure?”
He nods, but I don’t believe him. I know that he misses Jase.
“Caleb—”
“Let it go. So Jase is your dance partner. You’re practicing touching. What does your heart say about it?”
My heart . . . all at once, my heart hops around in my chest, like it was waiting for this question. Involuntarily, my thoughts wander back to Jase’s fingers interlaced with mine and his gaze meeting mine in the mirror.
“My heart has nothing to do with it.”
“Zoe, come on.”
I make a face and sigh. “Honestly, it’s not like that.”
“But it could be again.” Caleb looks at me searchingly, and I squirm uncomfortably because I know exactly what he’s getting at.
He knows what Jase meant to me. But I put the thought out of my mind because it feels much too likely that it could happen again.
Much too fast. And then I wonder if it ever really stopped or if all the chaos of the last year just covered it up.
I shake my head. “It can’t. We rejected him, Caleb. Both of us. And he has no idea why.”
“Are you going to talk to him about it?”
“No,” I say. And at the same time, I’m thinking yes.
“Liar.”
“What if it changes everything?”
Caleb puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “Yeah, what if it changes everything?”
He means it differently than I do, and I want to tell him that what he’s thinking isn’t possible. But I remain silent, because part of me wants exactly that.
For everything to change.