chapter thirty-seven

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WILLOW

"How are things going with your new dancer?" I hear the mocking tone in Summer's voice, which brings a smile to my lips. She doesn't meet my eyes as she asks, instead keeps her gaze in front of us– where her friends are having fun. Too much fun.

I clear my throat, playing with the beer I haven't touched in my hands. "Eh." I shrug. "She sent me a video of the dance, but it's not nearly as good as yours."

That makes her snap her shiny hazel eyes to me, despite the dark lights I can see the soft red in her cheeks. "You're just saying that to make me feel good." she rolls her eyes, trying to hide her smile.

"No, I mean it."

"What's her name? Do I know her?"

Is she jealous? That thought only makes me smile, and I shake my head letting my hair fall in front of my face. "Emma White. I think she's new." I wrinkle my nose, locking my eyes with Summer. "I don't know— We've barely talked, I can tell she's not into this as much as you were."

Summer pouts, and I fight the urge to connect my lips with hers.
We're in a crowded room, with eyes all over around us, although I'm pretty sure her entire friend group is wasted, and not even paying attention to us. They're all laughing, screaming, dancing on top of tables, and drinking like it's their last day on earth. Summer hasn't touched a single drop of alcohol, and neither have I. I really do want to be sober when I'm with her— everything feels more real. Josie, as she promised, is also sober but having too much fun with Maya to even care about me.

"I'm sorry." she murmurs, but we're so close I can hear it. I'd always hear her. "I'm doing everything I can do be better. My doctor said I can start practicing on a studio by next week."

"Really?" my eyes widen when she nods, a shy smile appearing on her lips. "That's huge, princess. Are you ready?"

She shrugs, looking unsure and small. "I don't know— I'm scared, I think. What if I fall and make it worse? What if I'm not ready? You know, I need a new dance instructor."

I slide my hand to her, linking our fingers together. I don't miss the way Summer sucks in a breath and looks up to see if anyone's watching us. Honestly, I don't care— It's too dark and they're all too drunk to care. I give her a soft squeeze, and say, "Summer, you're a professional ballerina. You don't need a new teacher, or whatever. You just need to trust yourself, do what feels right, trust your body. No one's going to hurt you, okay? You're free now."

Her entire face softens, and she leans in to rest her cheek against my shoulder with a long sigh. "You said I am a professional ballerina." she chuckles, so low and hurt that brings a pain in my chest. "While everyone says I was a professional ballerina."

"Well, fuck them, princess. You're the best ballerina out there, and you don't need them— or anyone. You're perfect."

Summer looks up, meeting my eyes, and then she drops them to my lips. I need to kiss her. She licks her lips, and swallows hard, probably telling me that she's thinking the same thing as me. Kissing her in front of her friends would be a disaster, because we are nothing yet— friends who kiss, is that even a thing?
I found myself thinking a lot about her these days— every time I saw a couple doing couple things, I kept thinking I want to do that with Summer. I want to walk down the street holding her hand, I want to walk her to class, I want to take her out to dinner, I want to give her everything she wants— and every time, I remembered I can't do that. I can't give Summer anything, because I'm not capable of. And she deserves way better than me, a nobody.

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