I’m not the only one moved by Royce’s passion. Madison’s watching him, swept up.
“Is that why you wanted to sit with me?” I tease. “So you can gush about Professor Redmond?”
“No, I came to sit with you because I found something in the lab that I think belongs to you.”
He reaches into his bag and pulls out his fist.
Inside it is my necklace.
The diamond pendant glitters in the light. My stomach drops, disbelief blurring with gratitude.
“I found it at the end of the day. It looked familiar so I didn’t turn it in right away, then I remembered you wearing one like it. Is it yours?”
I lift it, inspecting the diamond, the clasp. Everything is perfectly intact.
“Yes,” I murmur. “But…”
I traded it at regionals in New York to another team in exchange for materials to fix our robot.
Madison knows that, too, but Royce doesn’t.
“Thanks,” I manage.
I grip the solitaire in one hand, still not believing it’s here.
How did it come back? I can’t believe one of the guys on the other team had a change of heart.
Which leaves one other option.
I fasten the necklace around my throat, the familiar feel of it pure comfort as I type out a text.
Liv: I don’t know how you did this, but thank you.
The response comes moments later.
Adam: For what?
“Miss O!” Sienna, one of the little girls in my guppies class, screeches as I wind my way across the studio. “Andy cut me off.”
The boy in question looks around, confused. “Did not. We’re supposed to go this way.”
“You’re supposed to go the other way,” Sienna argues.
I’m teaching dance and enjoying the six- and seven-year-olds. They’re doing a liberal interpretation of chassés around the perimeter and they’re so cute, I’d watch them even if I wasn’t getting paid.
“Let’s all go to the right this time”—I motion with my hands—“and we can go to the left next time.”
This time, the kids go to the right…except for Andy, who steps on Sienna’s toes.
“He did it on purpose!” she cries.
“Did not!”
“People make mistakes. It’s good to forgive them.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Well, we can spend the rest of class talking about whose fault it is, or we can talk about what’s next once we master this.”
The screeching stops. “What’s next?” Sienna asks.
“Well, then we can add a kick.” I relevé onto my left foot and bring my right up in a développé, extending it at waist height to the side.
“Then what?”
I back into the corner and take a breath.
I do a chassé into a jeté, landing easily and resetting to execute a triple pirouette in place.
“Wow.” Murmurs go up.
The movements linger in my body, the tension and the extension. Like a friend I haven’t seen in too long, the kind who makes you feel instantly at ease despite the distance.
“But that’s next week,” I joke. “One more time around the studio, then we’ll finish for today.” I ruffle their hair and encourage them to get back to work.
I feel his eyes on me before I can turn toward the windows looking into the studio.
He stands on the other side of the glass, heavy gaze locked on me like I’m the cause of every good and bad day he’s ever had.
After the time is up, I escort my kids toward the door.
“And I thought my classes were contentious,” Sawyer murmurs.
I refuse to smile. He doesn’t deserve it. “Guess I almost threw down with the asshole that one time. You’re here for Andy?”
“Daniel’s in the parking lot. I’m here for you.”
It’s impossible not to be affected. The way he says those words makes my heart race.
His gaze drops to the necklace around my throat and my chest expands.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
Sawyer’s eyes darken as if he’s about to deny it.
“I knew it was important to you.”
“But when…”
“At regionals, before we were supposed to meet up.”
Before we fought in the hallway.
Before Madison caught us.
He did that for me.
“Looks better on you than the kid you traded it to anyway,” he says with a grimace.
“So what is this? An apology?”
“No. That’s a gift. This is the apology.” He takes a breath, looking so awkward I almost feel for him.
Almost.
“You were right. I like to hold people at a distance. After regionals you pushed me away, and finding evidence of you and my father in each other’s lives…I hated that he got to have you when I didn’t.”
And I got to have him, I think but don’t say.
The words are a big concession.
They’re not enough.
“Apologies usually contain the words ‘I’m sorry.’ For instance,” I press before he can interject, “I’m sorry if me keeping anything from you about your dad hurt you. That’s exactly why I did, and it backfired.”
He looks around the studio, his jaw working. “In that case…” his voice lowers even though all the kids and parents are out of earshot. “When I punished you in the supply room, I was angry, and you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”
“You should be. I couldn’t sit comfortably all day,” I grumble.
I realize my mistake the second his hands flex at his sides. “Really. I can take a look if you like.”
“Hard pass. Forget I said anything.”
“Like I said. Very, very sorry.” His eyes gleam with banked desire and amusement.
“Sure you are.” I grab my dance bag, realizing too late the zipper’s open and spilling the contents onto the floor.
“I read your essay. The one you turned in to my dad last semester.”
“You what?”
On my knees, I pick up my street clothes, spare leotard, wallet, and stuff them back inside.
“I don’t want to stand in the way of you getting what you want.” Sawyer’s next to me, too close as he helps. “I want you to have all of it.”
He means Stars, but I want what I felt in his arms, under his touch.
But I can’t go there with him again, because of what I told Madison and because it would be destructive to let him in the way I was starting to. He didn’t only claim my body, he had a piece of my heart.
And he wrecked it.
“It’s better if we focus on school.” I rise to standing and he follows.
“So you’ll sit in my class, dutifully taking notes, pretending you can’t remember how I make you come.”
My skin prickles everywhere, a dull ache settling between my thighs.
“That’s exactly what I’ll do.” I start to turn away, using every ounce of willpower, and he grabs my arm.
“In your essay, you talk about how dance made you feel. You don’t have to give up the rush. In fact, you need that passion. It’s the only thing that will get you through.” He lays something in my hand—a brand new set of wide satin ribbons for pointe shoes that must have fallen out, too. “I want to spend time with you. However you’ll let me.”