Perfect. Part 22

Just Like That Everything was great between us again. She has this way of making me forgive her instantly for any indiscretion, tiny or unimaginably gigantic. Good thing loving someone doesn't require caring about their parents. Jenna's mom just kind of ignores the fact that I'm still dating her daughter. She's so hung up on Kendra and building her career that she barely notices Jenna anyway.

Her father, I'm sure, hasn't even come close to accepting us. Not that it matters.

Jenna does as she pleases.

I definitely do not desire a confrontation, however. In fact, I want to steer way beyond clear of Rudolph Mathieson. I kind of like being alive.

I Especially Like Being alive when I'm dancing. It's like the best part of me cha.s.ses out of the shadows, into the spotlight.

I usually have lessons on Sat.u.r.day morning.

But Liana is taking tomorrow off to drive to San Francisco so she can spend Easter with her family.

So I am ball-changing and pivot-stepping this afternoon instead.

Liana is working me hard. Posture!

Keep your shoulders back. That's it! Beautiful, Andre.

Okay, let's practice some isolations now.

Left rib cage. Right rib cage. Cooling me down after a couple of very hard routines. She is evil. Good evil.

When we finish, every muscle, tendon, and joint in my body sings.

I grab a towel, dry a little sweat, exit the studio. Outside the door, in the waiting room, is that cheerleader on the Galena team. The one who stalked off at the compet.i.tion that day. What was her name? Shan... tell.

Yeah, that's it. Head bent toward her lap, where she is busily texting someone, she doesn't notice me at first. I think about backing away, so she won't know about what I do on my free afternoons.

G.o.d, what if she tells everyone? Yeah, Andre, right. Like who? And there's nowhere to back away to, anyway.

So I Take The Direct Approach "h.e.l.lo, Shantell." Her head rolls up from her texting.

It takes a few seconds for recognition.

Then her eyes go wide with surprise, and her jaw drops practically to her neck. You... dance?

"What? Did the leotard give it away?"

I smile. "Yes, in fact, I do dance. You train with Liana too, I guess?"

Since I was little. But I've never seen you here before.

Her voice is acid. Sharp. Caustic.

"I take private lessons. On Sat.u.r.days, usually." At the word "private," she starts to nod. "What?"

Nothing. It just figures that you'd take private lessons. She looks away as some other girls arrive for their group lesson. "You don't like me very much, that's obvious. What I don't get is why not."

She turns to face me. Points toward the mountain. I don't live up there. She means in a mansion on the hill. And that p.i.s.ses me off.

"Do you want me to apologize because my parents worked their a.s.ses off to become successful?

You could live up there if you want. All it takes is determination."

Baby, I've got plenty of that. Talent, too. I'll get there on talent. Because I do not have connections.

I'm Not Sure If That Means She likes me after all. Or if it means she has forgiven me for living up there. Or if it means one d.a.m.n thing, or why I even care. "So are we friends now?" I smile my warmest smile, expect her to melt.

She snorts. Yeah, right. Even if I thought I could maybe like you, I wouldn't because you have c.r.a.ppy taste in girlfriends. I mean, Kendra's cool and all, but her sister is just a regular bee-otch. What you see in her...

She would doubtless say more, but Liana pokes her head through the door and calls the girls to cla.s.s.

I don't need to explain my love for Jenna.

So I say, "Whatever you think about Jenna-or me-I like you, Shantell."

As I Say It I realize I really do like her, despite her open contempt for me.

Not that it matters. "Have a great weekend."

Yeah. You too. She tosses her head, haughty and pretty as some extravagant bird of prey.

And I watch her walk away, all rich cocoa skin and sleek raven hair and a dancer's well-muscled body.

She is no Jenna, but she does have something special going on. Wait. Jenna. I forgot to call and let her know I'd be late. Bet she's mad.

I locate my cell, check for messages. Uh-huh. d.a.m.n. Three of them.

Where are you? At least it's a whine, not a roar. And why aren't you picking up? Are you okay?

That's it. Play the guilt card. She's great at that. But I should have called. So I do now. "Hey. Sorry I didn't call sooner...." She goes off on me about how worried she's been. "I'm really sorry, sweetheart. I... uh..." What do I tell her? The truth? No way.

"...got hung up, filling out college applications with my dad. He's been pus.h.i.+ng me to do them for weeks now.

Let me get cleaned up and I'll be right there."

Don't think she'd want me sweaty.

Then again, maybe she'd like it. I get in my car and drive home, wondering why I don't feel like I can share my private dreams with the girl I'm so in love with.

Cara

Private Dreams Snare you. Swallow you.

Make you feel like you're all alone, like you don't want to sleep and fall into them. What good are dreams if you can't share them? How sad to think there are people who must move forward into some hollow future, empty of hope. Destined to travel an avenue potholed with broken promises.

Spring Break Thank G.o.d. I need some time away from school. Away from friends who stopped being friends because of Sean.

What's up with that, anyway?

But more, I need some time to spend getting to know Dani better. And, if I can find the courage, to let her get to know me. Looking back, it's clear that I never opened all the way up to Sean. Not even when I thought I was in love with him. It's genetic.

I am more like my mother than I ever believed possible. In fact, I would have sworn we were nothing alike, that I have fought to be any person other than her. I failed miserably.

I Haven't Even Seen Dani in a couple of weeks. Not since before the whole Sean mess.

It's not like I've purposely tried to ignore her. Our schedules have kept us apart. We have talked on the phone, the sound of her voice solace. I tried to tell her about Sean.

Couldn't. Couldn't tell anyone.

All I want is to forget the ugly scene. But don't think I ever can.

So I'll use it to make me stronger.

Fuel myself with it, an energy drink.

Because now that I know who I'm not, I can claim the person I really am. Take owners.h.i.+p of her.

That's my plan, and it's starting with Dani. Tonight. We're going to a party. "A Queer Spring Break Bash" is how it's been billed. Booze.

Beer. Drugs (?). And gay people.

Going With Dani Means it will be my "coming out"

party, so to speak. Good? Bad?

Not sure. Am I ready to admit so publicly who I've only just decided I am? Answer, to come.

Now, what to wear? Jeans, of course.

Sweats.h.i.+rt? (Sloppy.) Sweater?

(Girly.) Will anyone care, including Dani? Girly is better than sloppy.

I own a dozen sweaters, all folded in perfect colored squares on a closet shelf. Jade. Turquoise. Ruby. Bone.

I choose the amethyst. It's soft, warm, and clings to my body like oil on skin. Uggs? No. Black leather boots with tall spike heels. Overall, the look is dominatrix girly. Kind of cool, kind of weird. Which sums up how I feel right now.

Half amazing. Half out of my mind.

I Do My Best To make sure Dani will only see the amazing half. We meet at Summit Sierra. No need to chance parental third degree.

I park at the far perimeter of the lot, antic.i.p.ation nibbling.

I feel like a kid, waiting for some indication of a sleigh on my rooftop.

An aging Subaru pulls in next to my almost new Nissan. Behind the winds.h.i.+eld, Dani smiles, waves me over. "Hey. So great to see you.

Love your hair." The dark quills are tipped with a striking blue.

Hey yourself. And d.a.m.n, girl.

Do you know how hot you are?

The reindeer have arrived.

What I need now is for Santa to come slipping down my chimney.

I try coy, not my best thing. "Me?"

Come on. You look totally edible.

She stretches across the console, brings her face close to mine. Can I have a little taste before we go?

For one nanosecond, I see Sean, leaning over me. But Dani is not Sean, and I accept her kiss easily.

It is hungry, but not demanding.

Rather, it convinces me that this is, indeed, the place I am destined to be. She leaves me breathless.

And freed of the weight of regret.

I leave her searching for breath, too. Well, then. She inhales deeply.

I think I'll need another snack later.

This should be an interesting night.

I Have No Clue What she means. But I guess I'll find out. The party is at a little house near the UNR campus. The narrow street is lined on both sides with cars. We have to park several blocks away, on a patch of dirt by the rail- road tracks. As I get out of the car, I catch my right heel, but manage to save both it and me. "That was close. Guess I should have worn the Uggs." Dani slides an arm around my waist, and I press tight against her. No way, she says, no Uggs for you. You're too freaking s.e.xy in those boots. No worries.

I'll keep you upright. For now.

We start down the time-gnawed sidewalk, linked hip to hip.

In the shadows, we hit a slick strip of ice, but Dani is true to her word. Okay, those are definitely not great winter boots. Her grip around me tightens. In fact, I would rate them abysmal. And totally hot.

They do make me taller than her, so the top of her head is nose level.

Shampoo, gel, hair dye, or all three, the soft, fruity scent of her grows as we walk, and by the time we reach our destination, I must smell as if I belong to her. And I like it. How primal.