Hooked 3 (Hooked #3)
by Claire Adams
CHAPTER ONE
Days passed, and I hardly saw the sun. The October days were growing shorter, and I could feel the cold emanating from the lake through the glass of my windows. I placed my fingers on the cold and leaned into it, as if it was a fresh breath of air.
Since the destruction of my beautiful building, my mother had called several times wondering about me. About my dance studio. About how I was making it. But I hadn’t answered. My insides felt crumpled, hopeless. I watched my phone buzz and buzz and buzz each time until it shook itself from the table and onto the clattering wooden floor.
Mel called as well. I remembered the joy I had felt at her apartment, such a sense of family for the first time in my life. She had grown up with Drew; she was his aunt, although because of their parents’ age differences, they had grown up together. It was so insane to think about; that this woman I had known for two years had always had Drew in the back of her mind—as if he were waiting for me.
Mel’s messages were anxious, worried. She didn’t know what was going on, and she certainly didn’t know Drew had been the one to swoop the dance studio out from underneath us. It had been our only solace from the surrounding world, the only place we could actually dance—be ourselves—in the wake of all that had come before. I had failed as a dancer, and she had given up, gotten married, and had a baby. She had done so many, many decent things in her life. Why wasn’t she allowed a single pleasure?
“Molly? Molly? You need to call me back, okay. I don’t know where you disappeared to. I had such a wonderful time with you last week, but Drew’s telling me you won’t talk to him. I can’t understand it. Did we do something wrong? Please let me know if there’s anything I can do, Mol. I want you guys to work. You are the best girl that Drew’s ever brought home, and I mean that seriously.”
I rolled my eyes listening to the message. So even Mel knew about Drew’s womanizing? I sighed, tossing the phone to the couch, serious about not calling her back. Perhaps I could start over on my own, without strings attached to Drew. I reached toward my coat hanging on the coat rack. Boomer, to my left, meowed at me, confused about my strange off-kilter attitude the past few days. I had forgotten to feed him the day before, leaving him to jump on my head and rustle my hair in the morning.
I pushed my hands through my jacket, thinking about Mel and Drew once more. I was sure they hadn’t been talking this entire time; or had they? I chewed on the side of my mouth, considering. Perhaps Mel had known the entire time that Drew was in the city, that Drew was the one I’d been seeing. Perhaps she’d known the entire time that Drew was planning to buy the dance studio? My heart leaped in my chest; I felt like I was bungee jumping once more. The city around me felt dark and dismal, churning with a sense of foreboding. Was anyone here my friend?
I couldn’t mope anymore, and I couldn’t consider such thoughts. I shook my head back and forth, trying to cleanse it. If Mel had known, then screw it. It had all happened; it was done. I couldn’t roll over now; not yet. If I went back to Indianapolis because Drew had taken all I had ever known, I would ultimately show Drew I was weak—that I couldn’t handle his prowess, his money. I cleared my throat and stomped to the doorway, thinking about his sleeping form just a few doors down. His incredible body, his furrowed eyebrows. I shuddered. I would go into the world and find a new dance studio. I couldn’t mope anymore; this was the world I was meant to have. And screw Drew for letting him take it away from me—if only momentarily.
I ripped into the cold Wicker Park morning, looking at my watch for a moment to discover that it was only nine in the morning. Rush hour. People swarmed around me, dressed in business attire and huffing with a sense of seriousness. My eyes were wide as I pushed through them, exerting my stance in their world. I parsed through the Wicker Park streets, knocking on my leasing agents’ doors. “You have a moment?” I asked the secretary each time with my smile gleaming, my teeth white. They always had exactly one moment, and I always asked them detailed information about their properties and their rents. I wrote everything down in a notebook and nodded with a sense of importance as I placed the information on the pad. “Thank you for your time,” I murmured after each conversation before scurrying out into the world, my heart beating fast and my brain knowing that I could never—ever—afford whichever place I’d just been offered.
After a rough morning, I decided to march back to my apartment and take a hot shower. I thought of the tea bags in the corner, the leftover cinnamon roll from a previous morning. I could have a nice early afternoon with myself, regroup. Catch up on some moping time. I deserved it, after all. I grabbed my keys and flung through my apartment door, inhaling the unique, personal smell of my apartment. Boomer meowed at me with a bit of resentment, and I held him close, allowing him to lick my salty finger.
I placed a kettle on the stove and walked aimlessly, side-to-side, peering down at my notepad. I tapped my pen against my lip, considering rents and loans. I didn’t know much about that world. In my head, my first instinct was to ask Drew about it. Surely, he knew all about loans, about the unique process behind the dark shades of the bank. But then, I remembered to hate him. I shuddered deep in my stomach.
The pot of water was finished, and I poured it earnestly into my teacup, allowing the tea to steep for a moment. I had been in contact with a few of my dance students in the recent days, trying to feel out whether or not they’d be interested in more dance classes. Only a few of them—mostly the all-too-serious high school girls, had continued on with other dancers throughout the park. “But the expenses, Molly,” their mothers told me over the phone. “You tell me if you ever get back up and running.” They seemed to assure me like they would assure their own daughters; they would keep me in business if they could.