Chapter 4 #2
There was a long silence between us. The suffocating tension was broken up by the steady bass and chatter from around, but we didn't break eye contact as we stared at each other. His blue eyes were full of pity; mine were angry or upset. I didn’t even know what I felt, because all I could think about was who would be stupid enough to lose a guy like Derek.
“Are you going to help me or what?” I asked at last.
“Yeah, I will,” he nodded, taking a long breath in. “But you need to help me with Pilates in return. Not a fan of Sam.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
“Fine,” he threw my underlying attitude back at me. “Love happens outside of your comfort zone, Rosebud. So, you must meet me there to start your quest.”
“God, you're annoying,” I muttered as he laughed.
“This is just the beginning, darling.”
“Ready to dance?” Daisy appeared in front of us, her eyes firmly on me. “Ivy is calling us to the dance floor.”
I glanced behind her, where her sister and Nova danced and cringed.
I did many things to blend into college life.
But this party dancing was flat-out embarrassing to someone with professional training.
Not like I could whip out my pointe shoes and do a full-on pas de deux with the guys here, but still, there must have been something better than what I was witnessing.
“I’m good,” I muttered with a small shake of my head. “We are having a conversation.”
Truth was, I was done with the discussions on my sex life. But I would take my insecurity over not knowing how to flirt and date over dancing in a crowded living room any time.
“I’ll find you later,” Daisy nodded, with a smile, and skipped towards her sister.
“Want to talk about it?” Dex asked, his shoulder brushing mine as he nudged me. As usual, when around him, the tiny fraction of a touch sent butterflies flapping in my stomach.
“Not really, but we could drink. I really need to find a drink I enjoy.”
Derek chuckled and jumped up from the sofa. He extended his arm to me, and with a hint of hesitation, I wrapped my fingers around his hand and let him pull me up. He dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt, leaving the top three buttons unbuttoned and showing off his toned, tanned chest.
Gosh, why did he have to look so good?
He pulled me after himself without a care in the world, all the way to the kitchen where the makeshift bar was placed. It wasn’t a bar. It was a table filled with various drinks and chasers. Everyone around us grabbed a cup and poured their poison before moving on.
Dex stopped us at the side and glanced at me with a grin. “We know you hate beer.” I rolled my eyes. “Wine is out of the question. Why don’t we try a gin and tonic?” he asked, pointing at the gin. “They have Pink Gin, so you can stay on brand.”
I shrugged. “I trust you.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, but other than a quirk of his eyebrow, Derek didn’t acknowledge my choice of words.
“But if it tastes horrible, I'll lose all my confidence in you.”
Dex barked out a laugh at that and started mixing the pink liquid with elderflower tonic water.
I probably should have warned him I wasn't a fan of tonic water, but he seemed so excited about the prospect of making me a drink I might enjoy that I didn't want to ruin it.
“Pink isn't my favorite color,” I informed him calmly and matter-of-factly.
His eyes flashed to me before stirring my drink and topping it with red fruits. “You could have fooled me.”
“I mean it used to be,” I added, feeling stupid for even saying something. “I still like it, but... I don't know.”
“So, what is it then?” he asked, handing me the cup.
Our fingers brushed as I took it from him and shrugged. “What's what?”
“Your favorite color,” he continued calmly as he popped open a beer can for himself.
I took a tentative sip of my drink. It was not too sweet, but slightly bitter. Flavors mixed in my mouth, and I couldn't pick just one to identify. It was fruity and bitter. Looked sweet based on the color, but then it hit me with that bitter, sparkly aftertaste. Kind of like me.
“Blue,” I offered the first color that came to my mind. I remembered that when we played UNO, I always asked for blue. “Blue like the summer sky, or your eyes.”
“Glad you like my eyes,” Dex grinned, making me bury my nose in my drink and taking another bigger sip. “Mine is actually red.”
I almost snorted. He didn't seem like the guy who would say that, but I was glad he moved on from teasing me.
“Interesting,” I muttered while looking around. “So, I got my drink that doesn't make me want to hurl up everything I ate. Thank you”
A proud smile stretched on Dex's lip, and his eyes seemed to turn a shade lighter. “I'm glad.”
I watched his face, mesmerized, trying to read his expression.
We used to be close last semester. I used to talk to him all the time about everything, bake for him, and make him laugh.
How the tables have turned now that I am not my cheerful, bubbly self.
It seemed like, while last semester he was moody and brooding over his injury, now he was finding his way back to himself. While I was losing myself even more.
“Funny,” Dex snorted, and I snapped out of staring at his face.
“What's funny?” I asked, opting for a sip to occupy my roaming gaze.
“Forgot how good it feels when people don’t look at me like they pity me or if I’m broken,” he sighed as his fingers drummed on the can. “You always looked at me differently.”
I winced at his words as my throat closed.
Various emotions flooded my body, and I slowly shook my head.
“You're not broken, Dex. You had an injury, and you're back in the game.
There's nothing wrong with injuries; all athletes have them.
It's what you do after them that defines you. I already told you this.”
He remained silent for a long moment, and we both resumed sipping our respective drinks, as the silence hung between us like a heavy blanket. Yet I didn't find it suffocating. I didn't have the need to fill. I simply enjoyed it.
“Guess, the vote is still out then... what will I do after it?”
I let out a low chuckle and bumped my shoulder against his, the tiny contact sending goosebumps down my arm.
“There's nothing to vote on. You're doing everything in your power to get back on that field as a starter and be the star player everyone knows.
Everything else you feel or think... It's just in your head. And you need to silence those voices, otherwise...”
Dex arched a brow and silently prompted me to continue, but instead I shook my head and downed my drink. A wave of hotness rushed over me, and I felt my cheeks burn from the amount of alcohol I just swallowed.
“What did little Derek want to be when he grew up?” I asked to change the topic to something lighter.
Derek laughed, a real one that crinkled his eyes, probably from the surprise of the steep topic change. “Honestly? A firefighter.”
“No way!”
“Yes way. I was obsessed. Had the full costume, the plastic axe, everything. I'd make my nanny time me running around the house, 'saving' my stuffed animals from imaginary fires.”
The image of tiny Derek in a firefighter costume made me grin. “What happened?”
“My dad.” His smile faded slightly. “He saw me playing one day and said, 'Firefighters don't make money, son. You're going to be a doctor or a lawyer. Maybe business if you're not smart enough for medical school.’” He shrugged. “I was seven.”
“That's horrible.”
“It is what it is.” He took a sip of his drink. “Soccer was the compromise. I liked it, I was good at it, and athletic scholarships could lead to good schools. My dad approved because it looked good on college applications. Win-win.”
“Except you never got to be a firefighter.”
“Except I never got to be a firefighter,” he agreed. “What about you? Before ballet took over your entire life, what did baby Rosie dream about?”
I thought back to being four, five, or six years old. “I wanted to be a veterinarian. I was obsessed with animals. I begged my parents for a dog for years.”
“Let me guess, your parents said you were too busy with ballet?”
“Worse. My ballet teacher said having a dog would interfere with my training. That I couldn't risk being scratched or bitten or developing allergies that might affect my breathing.” I stared into my drink. “So, I never got one. I convinced myself I didn't want one anymore. That ballet was enough.”
“Was it? Enough?”
“I thought it was. I told myself that giving up everything else was worth it because I was going to be a professional ballerina. I was going to dance with companies around the world. All the sacrifices would make sense eventually.” I swallowed hard.
“But then my hip gave out, and suddenly all those sacrifices were just..
. losses. Things I'd given up for nothing.”
Derek's hand found mine. “Not for nothing. You became an incredible dancer. You developed discipline and artistry and…
“And now I teach Pilates in a tiny studio and live in a dorm with my roommate, and I never had a boyfriend.” I laughed bitterly. “Living the dream.”
“Hey.” He squeezed my hand. “You're nineteen. You have time to figure out new dreams.”
“What if I don't know how? What if I'm so used to having one singular focus that I don't know how to want multiple things?”
“Then we figure it out together.” Derek's thumb traced circles on my palm. “You help me remember I'm more than just soccer, and I'll help you remember you're more than just ballet. Deal?”
I looked at him, at this boy who understood loss in a way most people didn't, who was fighting his own battles while helping me fight mine.
“Deal.” I leaned my head on his shoulder for a split second before realizing what I was doing. It was dangerous to feel comfortable with him. “For the record, I think you would've made an excellent firefighter.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You're good at saving people.”
“Only the ones worth saving.”
“So just me?” I teased with a smile.
He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Just you, Rosebud. Just you.”
My cheeks burned as his lips brushed my skin, and thousands of butterflies flapped around my stomach. “I'm going to dance with the girls. I'll see you for our first class on Monday.”
I felt his eyes follow me as I exited the kitchen, walked across the living room, and met the girls on the dance floor. No matter the distance or the people coming between us, I felt his gaze never leave my body.