Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1)(49)

“You’re not fine.” Lila stopped talking when Grace wrapped her arms around both of us.

“I love it!” Grace kissed my cheek, then Lila’s. “We are back.”

Luke offered me his hand. I took it and let him escort me into the dance. The decorating committee had attempted to transform the gym into an island paradise. Three glittering palm trees and an ocean backdrop for the photographer didn’t hide the basketball goals or bleachers, or mask the stench of smelly socks from the boys’ locker room.

Luke only slow danced, leaving me to dance to the faster songs with Lila, Grace and Natalie. As we did, Luke wandered in and out of the boys’ locker room with his friends. Unfortunately, he came back to the dance a little more sloshed each time.

“I hear everyone is heading back to Luke’s when the dance is over,” Grace said as the two of us took a breather at our table. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and a portion of my heart lightened. I loved having Grace back as a public friend.

“He mentioned it.” Along with the idea I should sneak into the boys’ locker room with him and take a drink to loosen up. I watched Lila and Stephen grind, excuse me, dance, on the hardwood floor. School dances were the loophole to PDA rules.

“Are you ready?” Grace asked.

“Let’s wait for one more song and then I’ll be ready to dance again. These heels are pinching my toes.” Circulation returned to my aching feet the moment I kicked them off. I scanned the dark room and caught sight of Luke laughing with some guys from the basketball team. “I should probably dance with Luke.”

Grace laughed. “No, silly. For tonight. I overheard Luke asking you to do it.”

My blood and energy levels dropped to my feet, out my body and onto the floor. The dark shadows under my eyes, which I’d painstakingly hidden with makeup, dragged heavier. I rubbed my eyes, hoping to reenergize myself. No. I wasn’t ready.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Luke gave me that loopy one-sided grin he only wore when he was drunk. Grace patted my knee and slunk away, leaving me alone with Luke. Not only was I not ready, but I had to inform him. Tonight stunk. I forced a smile on my face and stood. “Can we talk?”

His hand, sweaty from God knew what, touched my cheek. “Sure. In a sec. I’m going to get another drink.” His eyes brightened like he’d found the cure for cancer. “You want to come? We smuggled Lila and Natalie in earlier.”

“No.” The third slow song for the night began to play. Grace waved at me, her eyes full of desperation. A reminder not to screw this up. “Dance with me, Luke. Then we’ll take a walk together and talk, okay?” A good talk. One of those where you tell each other how you really feel. One of those mind-blowing talks where you learn something so raw and real about the other person that you can’t help but fall in love.

I could tell him I wasn’t ready for sex and Luke would tell me that he was okay with that. He’d tell me that he loved me so much that he’d wait forever and then tell me something he’d never told anyone else. I could tell him how scared I was that I’d never know what happened to me and even more frightened to know the truth. He’d tell me that he didn’t care about my scars and that I could show them to the whole world and he’d still stand by me. And me? I would fall in love with him and, all of a sudden, I would be okay with doing “it.”

Like with Noah. I slammed that door shut.

Touching his face, I let my gloved fingers trace his jaw, a move he loved. His lips twitched up. “See, beautiful, I told you we’d figure each other out again.”

And we could—maybe. “Yeah.”

He took my hand and began to pull me toward the dance floor. This was it. Normal. A boyfriend who loved and accepted me. Surely this would fill the gaping hole. I glanced over to my friends and flashed my real smile to Grace, Natalie and Lila. My heart sang when the three of them lit up like firecrackers, knowing, for the first time in ages, they were seeing me happy.

Happiness—it was so close I could taste it. Then I stopped. My feet, my heart, my happiness, all of me, stopped. We’d bypassed the dance floor and entered the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “Where are you going?”

“I told you, the locker room,” Luke answered.

I yanked my hand away. “What happened to dancing and then talking?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Later. We’re getting to the bottom of the barrel with our supplies. If I don’t go in now, I’ll miss my chance.”

In more ways than he could ever imagine. “Yes, you will.”

His deranged male mind misunderstood and he kissed my cheek. “I knew you’d understand.” And Luke walked away.

I leaned against the door frame. Half of me in the shadowed gymnasium. The other half of me in the lighted hallway.

Idiot. I was an idiot. I blinked several times to keep any tears at bay and hugged myself. My heart should hurt, but it didn’t. Because I’d never invested my heart into this second chance with Luke. I’d poured in an ample amount of hope, but I’d never put my heart on the line. My soul ached from disappointment. I’d tried normal and I’d failed. Me … a failure.

Unlike the ACT, I couldn’t retake this part of my life and erase an unpleasant score. There was no blank canvas to start a new painting or sketch pad for a fresh drawing. My mother had failed me and my arms guaranteed I would always fail.