Chapter Thirty-Six
Collin sucks his milkshake through his straw, darting his eyes between us.
I’m determined to act as normal as possible, focused on cutting my omelet. I refuse to look at Jonathan.
Gurgling slurps interrupt the sounds of utensils scraping on plates as he finishes the last of it. “I don’t mean to mess with your afterglow,” Collin finally says.
“Told you he’d know,” Jonathan says, chuckling.
“Not because of me. You must’ve given it away.”
“Aliens on Mars could tell you two finally hooked up,” Collin announces like he’s bored of it already. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I’ll be staying in Hollis next year.”
I set my fork down. “What do you mean?”
“I’m commuting to a community college for the first year or two, and then I’ll transfer.”
“Why?” I ask. Jonathan hasn’t said a word. He’s staring at his plate, not eating.
“It’s… what I have to do.” He doesn’t explain more.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll come visit you. You’ll be back for the holidays and break.
I mean, we can’t all live together. We’ve been headlining the gossip feed in this pathetic town since your pregnancy scare in eighth grade. Time to share the limelight.”
I toss a butter packet at him. “Not funny.”
“It was funny.” Collin laughs. “Anyway, I just wanted you—”
Ryan sits down on the chair across from Jonathan. “What’s up?”
Emotion finally transforms Jonathan’s face when he smiles at his brother. “How was the game?”
“We totally won. Wasn’t even close.”
I wave to Mrs. Reeves as the server pours her a coffee at the counter. She smiles in return.
Ryan and his mom surprised us a couple weeks ago when they showed up during our Sunday breakfast. It was Ryan’s eleventh birthday, and his mother refused to let Jonathan miss it.
They both miss him. That’s obvious. And Jonathan doesn’t have to say anything to let me know he hates being away from them too.
Ryan and Jonathan talked for over an hour, eating cake and drinking milkshakes, catching up.
Mrs. Reeves remained at the counter to give them space after checking on her oldest son.
Jonathan spoke with her privately before they left, and whatever was said had her dabbing at her eyes.
He admitted that she wants him to come home.
The marshal’s report for the Holisters’ fire came back as inconclusive, and Hal will eventually oversee rebuilding the home.
So, Samantha believes it’s time for Jonathan to return to his family. Except he hasn’t.
I’m only half-listening to Jonathan and Ryan’s conversation, with Collin interjecting random smartass remarks.
I’m thinking about Collin staying behind in Hollis when we leave.
About what it’ll be like without him next year.
It’s too hard to imagine and impossible to prepare for the loss of seeing him every day.
I still haven’t committed to where I’m going.
I’ve received a couple acceptances, a rejection and a not right now from Brown.
I wasn’t surprised, but my dad was disappointed.
“Maybe you can reapply next year and transfer like they suggested?” I couldn’t bring myself to give him false hope, so I didn’t answer.
Not about next year or where I’m planning to attend at the end of this summer.
Collin won’t be at Penn State with Jonathan, and I’m not sure I will be either.
It’s one of two colleges I haven’t heard from yet.
The other is NYU, where I thought I’d be attending until this year.
No one knows this. I’ve always loved going into the city, and the thought of living there excited me even though I didn’t know what to major in.
When I think about living in New York now, it doesn’t entice me like it used to. I’d much rather be with Jonathan. And figure out my future with him. That’s if I get in.
By Thursday, I have my answer.
What are you doing in here?” Danika asks when she finds me sitting in the costume closet after assisting the younger dancers with Nina.
I shove the fabric behind me.
“You’re not very good at that.”
I widen my eyes, trying to appear innocent. “At what?” It isn’t working.
She holds out her hand. “Let me see.”
I hesitate, not ready to show anyone. There’s a reason I’m hiding in the closet.
“You can trust me.”
“Do you promise? You can’t say a word to anyone.” I need her to understand how important this is to me.
“I promise.”
I display the project I’ve been working on for the past week. “His birthday’s next Wednesday.”
“An Aries—I should’ve known.” She says this with judgment, her hands on her hips. “You sure ’bout this?”
I let the fabric fall to my lap. “Yes.” My heart skips a beat. I don’t have it in me to defend my decisions right now.
Danika must sense my resistance because she kneels on the floor across from me.
“I’m not telling you what to do, I promise.
But I understand what it’s like to get swept up in someone.
To lose myself so completely, do things I never thought I’d do.
When I look back at how I was with Gavin and then with Oren, I don’t recognize that girl. And it scares me.”
She hesitates, her voice low. “Do you know anything about cyclical abuse?”
Not where I thought this was going. “My dad and I talk about it sometimes. He wants to help break cycles. It’s why he became a lawyer. The past doesn’t have to define your future. I like to believe it too.”
“Yeah, me too,” she says after considering it. “My therapist told me that being a cycle breaker can be really hard. Especially if it’s been passed down generation after generation.”
“Did Oren’s father hurt him?” I ask, trying to understand why she’s invested in understanding generational trauma.
“His dad put him down all the time. He didn’t care if I was there.
Made him feel like he wasn’t man enough.
Strong enough. Smart enough. That he wouldn’t amount to anything.
And it would eat at Oren every day. He kept trying to prove himself.
And the pressure got so big; when I pushed and jabbed at him, that toxicity seeped out. ”
My silence amplifies my skepticism. I’m having a hard time believing he didn’t have control over what he did to her. Every one of us has a choice, no matter our lineage.
“You don’t understand, Sadie. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I knew every time I was pushing him to the edge.”
“You really believe that?”
She nods.
“What are you saying?”
“When I was with Gavin, I felt I had to be perfect. My hair. My clothes. The way I walked. Sat. Talked. I needed to impress him. But he still threw me away over and over again. Each time, I’d beg him to take me back.
I’d be better. I’d try harder. And in the end, I wasn’t perfect enough. I hated myself.”
I swallow back the lump of guilt rising in my throat. I wasn’t the one who treated her like she was expendable. But it feels shameful, loving the person who did.
“When I came back after the summer at the treatment center, I was so determined to be the girl who didn’t give a shit.
Defiant and confident. And Oren loved that girl.
Sometimes, I became the worst version of myself when we were together, whether we were alone or at a party.
No matter what I did or how horrible I was to him, he kept coming back.
“And no matter how hard he gripped me—my wrist, my arm, my waist—how many times he shook me, I kept going back to him too.”
“Why’d you do that to each other?” I can’t imagine it. The intentional hurt. Jonathan and I have been through a lot in the past six months, but every time he hurt, I hurt too. It would be like harming myself. A relationship of self-destruction. That doesn’t resemble the love I know.
“I have no idea. It’s not like my parents are horrible.
They don’t always pay attention to me, but boo-hoo.
It’s not like they hit me or tell me I’m pathetic.
They just leave me alone. That why I’m hoping my therapist will help me figure it out.
Why I do this. Lose myself. Hate myself. Love guys who hurt me to love me.”
She brushes her hand over the satin material on my lap. “I want this for you. For you to be treated and loved like you’re the sun. Because you are. But I’m afraid for you too.” Danika blinks back tears. She stops herself. She doesn’t have to say more. I heard exactly what she wanted to say.
“I trust him,” I tell her. “With my heart and my body, I trust him.”
She closes her eyes to take a deep breath, pulling back the emotion, like she always does. When she looks at me again, she offers a tentative smile. “When is this happening?”
I bite my lip because I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. “Next Saturday.”
“Holy shit.”
Magda helped me bake cupcakes for Jonathan’s birthday.
Our lunch table devoured all eighteen of them.
Jonathan and I hoped to find time alone at some point that night, but it didn’t happen.
Privacy is nearly impossible at Collin’s house or mine.
On top of our busy schedules… I can’t remember the last time it’s truly been just the two of us.
We’ll have to be patient.
“I need to be alone with you,” Jonathan says into my ear while Sean and Collin scream at the video game they’re playing. He draws his arms around me, resting his hands on my stomach. “I swear they’re torturing me on purpose.”
I spin in his embrace, setting my hands on his chest. “I know. Believe me, I know. We can always make out on the couch. They probably won’t notice.”
Jonathan grins. “I wish.”
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask with a sudden flourish of energy.
He considers this for a moment, eyeing me suspiciously. “Nothing.”
“Okay,” I reply. “I gotta go.” I kiss him on his confused face and bolt up the stairs.
“Wait!” Jonathan rushes after me. “What’s tomorrow?”
“Saturday.”
He’s not up for my dry wit. “Tell me.” He reaches for me, reeling me into him again. I try to resist.
I present him with an envelope. “Meet me here.” He begins to open it. I take advantage and slip past him out the door. My heart’s racing. This is officially happening.
My phone pings.
Jonathan: Where are you?
Me: See you soon. Reserved signs. Front row.
Danika pokes her head into the room. “Ready?”
“I think I’m going to throw up.” Air is having a hard time finding my lungs.
“You’ve got it. No big deal. It’s just everything.” She shoots me a teasing grin.
I attempt another breath. “How much longer?”
She leans out to check the commotion in the hall. “Um, probably fifteen minutes.”
“That’s an eternity.” I seriously might collapse from anticipation.
She recognizes my jittery nerves. “Want me to sit with you?”
“I need you out there to make sure everything goes okay.” I shake my arms and legs, wiggling the jitters out of me.
“I got you.” She closes the door, blocking out the noise.
I press Play on my phone and close my eyes, letting the music transport me. I focus on breathing slowly. The last thing I need are hiccups.
When the knock notifies me it’s time, I’m ready. And also hope the lights are so bright, I can’t see.
I’ll still know where he is. I always do.
Danika gives me a powerful squeeze. “I trust you.” That’s as close to an approval as I’m going to get from her. She backs away, and I wait on the side of the stage.
“Next up, performing a contemporary ballet number, is senior Sadie Prescott.”
As soon as the music begins, I glide onto the stage.
The rest of it is fluid movement. I don’t allow my mind to wander or worry.
I stay within the beats and melody. My body doesn’t need me to know what to do.
I’m transported to a place where I’m floating above it all.
I can only feel the expression of the music.
Only experience the bliss of movement. The strength of my legs. Flow of my arms. Posture of my spine.
The flames of light flicker around me, transforming the stage into an inferno. I snap the cape over the fire, leap and twirl it above my head—an extension of me in perfect synchronization. The red and orange floodlights gleam off the dark blue satin.
When I reach the finale, I return to myself.
My heart is a bouquet of hummingbirds within my chest. My breath pants between my lips.
I flip the cape, revealing the lion in its folds with PSU glittering in silver beneath.
I bow deep, allowing the cloak to shield me.
The crowd erupts in a crescendo of applause and hollers.
They’re not as civilized as my usual audience.
It’s a high school talent show. My expectations for applause after a ballet piece were low. This reaction is over the top.
When I stand to curtsy, Jonathan leaps onto the stage and sweeps me off my feet, spinning me around. “I love you,” he says into my neck. “I love you so much.”
I laugh, unable to view the crowd’s response. But I can hear them. The catcalls, “Get a room!” and whistles. The applause and cheers. “Reeeeves!”
I hug him back, my feet hovering above the stage. “Did I burn it down?” I ask, my smile stretching across my entire face.
“To the ground.”