The Hit List (17 page)

“Should he be?” She rocks her hips gently forward and rolls into a center split.

I really don’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the dance studio with everyone else around. “Don’t bounce. You’ll pull something.”

She glares at me. “Don’t change the subject.”

I sigh. I should know better than thinking she would drop it. “Probably.”

“What’d you do?” She leans forward again with even pressure and looks up at me.

What didn’t I do? It’s such a loaded question and I’m not sure how to answer it. Since I started here I’ve had a panic attack at his touch, struggled when he wanted to push me out of my comfort zone, and refused to trust him when I had no reason to believe he would hurt me.

“I’m frustrating.”

I know I am. I just thought maybe he’d work to earn my trust a little harder. I thought maybe he was done flirting with every girl. I thought he was done with that game.

Clearly I was wrong.

“You should work on that.” She lies down on the floor between her legs, reaching her arms over her head.

“Gee, thanks. Good talk.” Even something along the lines of blowing my chances at Fall Showcase or London would have been better than that advice.

“Anytime.”

Adam rushes in right behind Miss Jasmine, barely on time for class. Miss Jasmine narrows her eyes at him and he mouths “sorry.” He sits down between Brielle and me to stretch.

“Are you ever on time to anything?” Brielle asks, her face still against the floor.

He slides his bag across the floor and it smacks into the wall below the mirror. “I wasn’t technically late. Class hasn’t started yet.”

Miss Jasmine whistles above the chatter. “Okay, let’s get started. Line up in the corner. We’re going to run some floor exercises to warm up.”

I walk to the corner with Brielle and Adam. I don’t want to be here right now. I’d rather be in bed avoiding everything. Screw Fall Showcase and London. I just want to survive the next two weeks before tryouts.

“We’ll start easy. Piqués across the floor. I want excellent turn out, people. I don’t want to see sloppy mistakes. If you give me mistakes, be prepared to give me fifty push-ups.” Miss Jasmine starts the music, not giving anyone a chance to reply or ask questions.

“Lame,” Brielle whispers. “She needs to get laid if she’s uptight about piqués.”

Adam chuckles. “I’m sure there’s someone around here that would be willing to take care of that. Even if she’s not on the list, she’s worth points.”

Brielle scoffs and hits him in the arm. “Gross. You’re talking about a teacher.”

That was exactly the mental image I wanted to start the class with. I focus on my turnout and practice piqués in line while I wait for my turn.

Miss Jasmine claps her hands. “Courtney, I saw that sickled foot. Fifty push-ups. Go.”

Courtney looks pained and wanders off to the corner.

“Shit just got real. She’s not screwing around,” Adam whispers.

I step up to the corner and wait for Rachel to clear half the floor before I start. I stand in fifth, my arms rounded into first position. I’m not giving Miss Jasmine a reason to call me out.

But she does it anyway.

“Sadie, what are you wearing?”

Brielle answers for me. “It’s her birthday. I told her she had to wear it.”

Miss Jasmine doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Do you wear everything people tell you to wear?”

I want to say yes, just to see what she’ll do. But push-ups are the bane of my existence. It’s not worth it. “No.”

Miss Jasmine watches me in silence for a second. “Happy Birthday, Sadie. Now take it off and piqué.”

I pull the tiara out of my hair and slide it across the floor. Taking a deep breath, I point my toes whenever they leave the floor, turn my hips out as far as I can without hyperextending, and keep my standing leg as straight as possible. Miss Jasmine frowns at me the entire way across the floor, but seems satisfied enough when I get to the other side.

Thank God.

Brielle makes it across without invoking Miss Jasmine’s wrath and stands next to me along the wall. “If I knew she was going to throw a fit about a fucking tiara, I never would have asked you to wear it.”

I wave her comment off with my hand. “Don’t worry about it.” I’m over it.

Rachel pushes off the wall and steps behind a couple people until she’s next to us. “It’s kind of sad that you slept with Luke. You know he’s taken, right?”

“By who? You? If he’s so taken, why is he sleeping around?” Brielle crosses her arms over her chest.

It takes a few seconds for what Rachel said to sink in. “Wait, what do you mean I slept with Luke? I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

“That’s not what The Hit List tells me.”

“I don’t care what anyone tells you.
I’m
telling you I didn’t sleep with anyone.” My voice is louder than I expected. I glance up to find Luke watching me. Did he hear what I said? Shit, half the class probably heard me.

Did Luke lie and somehow claim points for me? He’s the only one I’ve been close to. Why would he do that? I know he’s mad at me right now, but there’s no way he would ever do something like that. Nerves twist in my stomach. I’m not one hundred percent sure I believe he wouldn’t try to hurt me. I’ve given him enough reasons to.

Rachel shrugs. “If you say so.” She moves back to her place in line.

Miss Jasmine continues to watch dancers cross the floor. She has no idea what just happened. She can’t hear the thump of my heart over the bass of the music.

“Was it all just some kind of game to you? To see how long it would take you to get into NYBC?”

Patrick sighs into the phone. I miss the way his sighs would flutter the hair by my ear, but that was before things fell apart, before things were different. Before I found out I was living a lie
.

“You could at least answer me.” I deserve that much. After everything he’s put me through, he can tell me what happened to us
.

“What do you want me to say?” The tension strains his voice
.

“I want you to tell me the truth.” Even as I say it, I’m not sure it’s what I want. The truth has the power to break me more than I already am
.

“You want the truth? Fine. I started dancing with you because I knew it would help my career. It’s easier to get noticed when you have a pretty girl by your side. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you fucking happy now?”

My grip tightens on the phone. “The fact that you think that would make me happy proves you never gave a shit about me in the first place.”

Something rubs against the receiver and I can almost see him in front of me rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Can we forget this happened?”

“You know what, Patrick? Go ahead. Forget everything that’s happened in the last two years. Forget about me.”

I don’t wait for his answer. I whip the phone across the room. It shatters against the wall on the other side of my bedroom
.

I’m done with lies
.

“Come on, guys. You have two weeks until tryouts and right now none of you are impressing me. We’re going to have a pretty unhappy audience if we don’t have any performers,” Miss Jasmine yells above the piano music.

I glance over at Luke. He watches the front of the room while he holds a relevé position.

Two weeks.

“Do you think you’ll ever trust me?”

How do you trust someone that keeps giving you reasons not to?

Fourteen days.

“Why don’t you just quit? Find something else to do with your life that doesn’t involve dance. Then you don’t have to worry about your hip anymore.”

Patrick doesn’t realize that giving up dance is the scariest thing I’ve ever had to think about. Dance is my existence. It’s what I tell people when they ask what I want to do with my life
.

“What else would I do? Dance is my life.”

Without it, I’m lost. I don’t have any idea what I would do. I have no other interests. There is no other career path I would enjoy. This is it
.

Without it, who am I?

Patrick meets my gaze in the mirror from the other side of the room. “Maybe it’s time to find a new life.”

Patrick followed me to L. A. without ever stepping foot here. He’s successfully wormed his way back into my life. Every reaction I have to Luke is because of him. Every time I freak out, it’s because Patrick couldn’t be a decent human being after I got hurt. Every time I pull away, it’s because Patrick didn’t stay.

Pulling away doesn’t make me weak. It makes it impossible for Luke to leave. He can’t leave me if I never had him to begin with.

I don’t even know if I believe that anymore. It feels like he’s leaving. Every cold shoulder, every awkward silence, every touch given to another girl makes it worse. I’m in this thing deeper than I ever thought I could be. Maybe I do trust him even though I tell myself I don’t. And maybe I do care even though I’ve convinced myself I can’t.

Except now someone is trying to say they slept with me. Luke is the only one who makes sense. Who would believe anyone else? I spend all of my free time with him.

My ears buzz from a lack of oxygen. I can’t think. My brain can’t even figure out how to survive right now.

Brielle has a death grip on my arm. Luke watches the whole scene with something like concern in his eyes. Miss Jasmine watches us and words come out of her mouth, but my brain can’t connect the meanings. She speaks a foreign language.

Brielle’s hand comes down hard on my back and the instinct to breathe kicks in. She pulls me across the floor to the doors and out of the room. Miss Jasmine follows us out into the hallway.

“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t leave class,” Miss Jasmine says.

Brielle takes a step in between us. “Are you for real right now? She’s fucking blue. She needs a minute.”

I put my hands on my knees and suck air into my lungs. The burn is a welcome relief.

Miss Jasmine looks flustered as she glances between us. “Fine. Five minutes. Then I expect you back inside.”

She turns to walk back into the classroom, but the door bursts open and Luke runs out. His gaze falls on me. Time stops as I take in his expression.

No hurt. No disappointment. Just worry for me.

He takes a step closer, but he’s not even close enough to reach out and touch me. “Are you okay?”

As much as I want to be happy about it, I can’t. My mind is a jumbled mess. I don’t know if he really cares. I don’t know if I really care.

Brielle glances at me before she looks at Luke. “I got this, Morrison.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off me while he waits for my answer.

I stand up straight and lean against the wall. I don’t need help from anyone. I especially don’t need his help, not when I can’t figure out what I feel.

“I’m fine.”

Luke’s eyes stay locked on mine for a few more seconds. He runs a hand through his hair. “Okay. See you back inside.” He pushes through the doors.

Brielle sits down on the floor in the hallway. “I really wish you would stop doing this. It scares the shit out of me.”

“You and me both.” If I could control it, I would, and I’d choose to never feel like this again.

“It was that game, wasn’t it? The reason you freaked?” She looks up at me from her place on the floor.

I rest my hands against my knees to breathe deeper. “I don’t really enjoy people spreading rumors about me. Especially when those rumors involve my sex life.”

She frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be fine.” I want to get away from people for a little while, but that’s not going to happen. I have to go back to class.

She looks skeptical, but nods after a few seconds. “Try to put it behind you. Don’t worry about what those people think. Nothing they say matters anyway. As long as you know what’s real.”

A few more deep breaths and my lungs feel normal. I nod at Brielle and she opens the door to go back into the studio.

I lie on a blanket in the middle of the quad and listen to music on my iPod. I shouldn’t feel like shit on my birthday, but I do. I’ve pushed Luke too far for him to be like himself around me anymore. I’ve done a pretty good job pissing off all the people who hold my future in their hands.

My life is a disaster.

I pull out my ear buds to watch the commotion in front of me on the sidewalk. Two students stand close to the entrance of the school fighting.

“You’re such a bastard. I can’t believe I ever slept with you.” She takes off down the sidewalk away from him.

He jogs to catch up with her. “It’s not like I did it because you were worth bonus points or something. I would have done it even if you weren’t.”

The crack of her hand across his cheek echoes off the wall beside them and I flinch.

She keeps walking. He stands stunned in the middle of the sidewalk, a red handprint on his cheek.

My phone vibrates against my side. I drop it when I read the screen. She never calls me first.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Sadie?” She sounds more confused than me.

“Yeah. Who did you expect to answer?” I probably don’t want to know the answer to that question, but it’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.