While most of that had been to my face, I knew what she said behind my back to the small group of friends she had. Some dancers, most not. It was hard to keep friends who you competed against because no matter how strong you thought your friendship was, you were going to go head to head with them at some point. Some people, like Lauren, were sore losers. Others like Tiffany said a few harsh words and moved on. Trained harder. Ate better. Worked at it until there was no reason to be beaten.
I could picture us being friends if we didn’t have dance between us. But even now, without me competing, I knew it wouldn’t happen. I’d be the threat that always taunted her, the person she’d made comments about when she thought I wasn’t listening.
Sighing, I managed a nod. “I get what you’re saying, but I can’t picture myself ever going back. Competing or not. Plus, I hear Lauren has gotten better. Maybe she’s competition after all.” I hated to think that some girls were so unworthy of not being deemed competition, but there were always people who were better or worse. That was life. Did I flaunt it? Comment on it? No. That wasn’t my place.
Tiffany hefted a sigh before looking toward the door where more people exited. “For the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake. But I’m not shocked to hear your choice. I knew Sophie was full of it when she told the ladies at the club.”
I closed my eyes for a split second. Of course, she was still running her mouth about it like gossip could change my mind. “When did she do that?”
“A week ago? A week and a half?”
I wet my bottom lip and looked at her again, tipping my head. “Thanks for letting me know. And I’m…sorry if you’re disappointed. I just can’t do that to myself.”
“Ladies,” the instructor said from where she was putting her bag over her shoulder. “We need to clear out now. You can continue your conversation outside.”
Tiffany and I walked side by side toward the door, her shoulder bumping into mine as we entered the hallway. “What if I helped you? You don’t want to come back, fine. But that doesn’t mean you should stop dancing. Not unless you never liked it, and let’s be real, there’s no way you would have stuck it out if you hated it. We all saw the way you moved, Adele. It was flawless. We were all sure nobody would ever be able to compare.”
That was the thing nobody got. Being so high on the pedestal meant the fall would hurt that much more. “I didn’t hate it,” I confirmed, adjusting my mat perched in the crook of my armpit. “It was something I started because of my mom and what I found passion in for a long time. But that turned into critique and then into something darker. I don’t know how you could help with something like that, Tiffany.”
She stopped by the front doors leading into the sunny day outside. People milled about, walking around us, and talking about whatever. Classes. The weather. Exercise. But Tiffany and I stared at each other like it was a competition in itself. Except, I was trying to figure out her motive. Why would she help me at all? It didn’t make sense. We weren’t friends, like she’d pointed out, which was why it seemed strange she was willing to help me get over whatever I feared. Which was a lot.
“I’ve got a private studio I work out in,” she told me casually. “It’s not as nice as the one we used to practice at, but it works. Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll text you the address? You can choose to show up or not. No pressure.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
Unable to fathom an answer, I found myself typing my number into her phone. She didn’t look cocky about it when she slipped it into the mesh pocket of her yoga pants.
“Think about it,” was all she said before waving me off. I stayed standing where I was, watching her walk away in awe.
“Stop! You can’t do that, Ramsay!” I tried running but got tripped up in the red leash he’d managed to wrap around my shins. I caught myself before faceplanting into the grass while he ran after some invisible animal. Flopping onto my back, I let the sun absorb into my already overheated skin and listened to the loud yaps that came from the corner of the yard.
“Why are you laying on the ground?” A shadow eclipsed over me, allowing me to open my eyes without wincing at the sunlight.
“Our dog tripped me.”
One of his brows went up.
“My dog,” I corrected. I knew better, though. Theo totally loved Ramsay, he was just pretending not to. I saw them cuddling on more than one occasion, and Theo always talked to him like he was another person. He did enjoy having a dog around, and it was mutual. Ramsay completely ignored me when Theo was in the same room. I might have rescued him, but he wasn’t mine anymore.
He reached out, wiggling his fingers for me to take his hand. I stared at it for a moment and debated staying where I was. When I’d woken up on his lap over a week ago, I hadn’t known what to say. He was sleeping, his cheek against the back of the couch cushion, with an arm draped over my side. I knew if he woke up, he’d make a big deal out of it, say something, so I snuck out before he could with nothing more than a note that I’d be back to take care of Ramsay after classes.
He hadn’t said a word about it, so I didn’t either. We moved on with our lives like we’d been doing since the night I found out what it was like to kiss a man like Theo West. I never let myself linger there long because it hurt too much to come back to reality knowing that he’d walked away without one look back at me the morning after.
“Christ, Adele, that was a fucking mistake.”
“Take my hand, Della,” he commanded.
“I’m good.”
He sighed and squatted beside me. “Is there a reason you’re being more stubborn than usual today?”
“No.”
The way he eyed me called me out on my bullshit without so much as a word.
I palmed my lids and exhaled softly. I’d gotten a few hours of sleep but was stressed about exams and a final project for Contemporary Art I still hadn’t started. All those things were weeks away, but professors were keen on reminding us that they lingered.
“School,” I admitted. Life. Dancing. Art.
He moved his pantlegs up before sitting down with his knees bent and arms resting on top of them. “What about it?”
I blinked at the expensive light-colored gray pants he adorned before meeting his gaze. “You’re going to get grass stains.”
“So are you.”
Glancing down at the cheap tee and denim shorts I wore I shook my head. “My stuff doesn’t cost as much as yours. Plus, most of my clothes are stained anyway.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he waited for me to indulge him on my problems. Why did I always do that? Theo should be sick of me by now considering how much of his life I’ve taken up with my burdens.
They’re not all yours, a small voice reminded me. I flicked it away.
“I haven’t been able to paint much, that’s all. It’s not a big deal, except I’ve got a big project due that happens to be a large chunk of my grade. I’ve stayed up late trying to come up with ideas, but nothing helps. I start something that I love, then lose all interest in it.”
It didn’t help that I’d been getting minimal sleep at night. There were times when that happened more often than not, and I’d cave and take a sleeping pill that Ripley prescribed me. Considering the bottle was nearly full, I didn’t do it often. I had hoped if I got a full night’s rest, I’d be inspired the next day. It didn’t happen, though. Instead, I felt the nagging feeling in my gut telling me to do anything but paint. Run. Bike. Dance until I sweat through my clothes. Whenever my mind conjured ways to exhaust itself, I had to pull back and remember why that wasn’t a good idea.