Brutal Obsession (5)
Yep, definitely going to be paying for this tomorrow.
Still, it’s nice to be back. The conversation shifts from hockey to the dramatics on the dance team, and I smile and pick at my sweater as I listen. I’m familiar with most of the names, but a few times I glance questioningly at Willow. She provides context. A freshman, a new transfer, an older girl who finally made it through tryouts.
We get our tequila shots, plus wedges of lime and a salt shaker passed around. I lick the back of my hand and pour the salt onto it, then hold my wedge and shot glass until they’re all ready.
“To Violet’s return,” Willow says.
They raise their glasses and clink them together in the middle of the table. As a unit, we lick the salt, tap the shot glasses to the table, and toss the liquid back. The taste of it is familiar, searing down my throat. I bite down on the lime, and the citrus explodes across my tongue. It mixes with the tequila and makes it actually enjoyable.
“That never gets old,” I giggle, leaning into Willow.
She hugs me. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too.”
“Good. Another round!” She slides out of the booth and knocks on the table. “I’ve got this one, then you sorry lot are buying next.”
Jack takes Willow’s place beside me. He puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. His warmth is familiar. The weight of his arm is comforting. “Have I told you I missed you?”
“Once or twice.” I roll my eyes, but I don’t straighten up. I should, because my behavior toward him over the past six months has been nothing short of atrocious. I don’t even know why he still cares.
He couldn’t see me. Not how I was… and how I might still be. I wasn’t lying when I told Willow I was different. I feel like an uglier version of myself. Not as nice, not as bubbly, not as optimistic. Literally darker. Something broke inside me after the accident.
The dance team was just a hobby. A way to stay in shape and make friends. Willow was the one who begged me to audition with her our freshman year. She loves to dance, just as I did, but was terrified of doing The Big Brave Thing by herself. I went, but I didn’t expect to love it. My true passion was bigger than that. Deeper than that.
Ballet.
My heart hurts just thinking about it.
There should’ve been no room in my life for the dance team. No room in my life for friends. Not with my mother choreographing my schedule like a complicated piece, weaving appointments and training and rehearsals.
My whole college schedule was arranged around five-hour dance training, and I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t love every second of it. The long days, the sore muscles, the relief of finally nailing a piece of choreography.
The dance team was a compromise to my career. One I insisted on along with college. I missed more than a few dance team days for ballet—and the coach accepted it from the start. From everyone else, she demanded perfect attendance. But she had to admit, I had skill. I had talent, the sort of natural movement my ballet master always praised me for. The natural grace and intuition on top of training.
The dance team’s different style gave me a mental break—and a physical challenge.
As for ballet, I was going places. First as a soloist in the company’s productions, then I became a principal—one of the leads. I dreamed of bigger shows. Bigger companies and productions after I graduated CPU. The Nutcracker or Sleeping Beauty in New York City or San Francisco. The sort of principal roles that make a ballerina in the industry.
And then that dream shattered along with the bones in my leg.
Willow comes back with a tray, her eyebrow raising at the position Jack and I are in. He just grins at her and plucks one of the glasses from the tray. He sets it down in front of me.
“They’re here,” Amanda says, her voice high.
I glance around. The bar has been filling up, sure, but now the noise climbs. A new energy rushes through the room. My stomach knots for some reason. I can’t explain it. It’s like anticipation but worse.
I’m surprised to recognize the first pair of guys through the door. Knox Whiteshaw is legendary, even at a school like CPU that doesn’t usually get national recognition. He’s accompanied by the goalie, Miles. No surprise there. They’re brothers and thick as thieves.
Knox is a junior, like Willow and me, and Miles is a sophomore. Even so, he rose to meet the expectations set by his brother. On the medium-sized college campus, everyone tends to know each other. And when you’re in sports? You’re definitely known.
More players follow in behind them, and I catch a glimpse of another starter on the defensive line.
“Violet,” Jack says in my ear. “You okay?”
I glance at him, and my face gets hot. “Perfectly fine.”
My confidence took a hit when I missed a semester. Which is why my cheeks stay hot while girls come up to us. Some grin at Jack, congratulating him on a good season—as if this is the first time they’ve talked to him in months—but more welcome me back. I’m actually surprised at how many people notice us. Notice me.
Willow nudges my leg under the table. “See? They missed you.”
Jess laughs. “Yeah, the dance team sucked without you. I mean, we did okay. But we just missed the positive energy you always brought. We’re so glad you’re back.”
I pause. Willow’s smile drops off. I give her a look, but she can’t meet my eyes. So, she didn’t have the courage to tell them—I don’t blame her, I wouldn’t want to be the messenger of bad news. Coach knows, but I doubt they’ve seen her since we had a phone chat with my doctor two weeks ago.