Hooked 4 (Hooked #4)(3)

The class went so well. It was like I hadn’t lost a single step since I’d taught a dance class. The women asked all the right questions and allowed me to help them, to position their legs the right way. They cracked small jokes and seemed to want to include me, which was rare. I think Rhetta had told them that I had fallen on hard financial problems. For a fleeting moment, I thought surely the girls had wanted to get back together just to try to support me. But it was more than that, of course. They wanted to feel the glorious joy of dancing next to their friends, to beautiful music. They wanted to feel like they were a part of something. And they were, there in my studio.

After the hour passed I allowed them to go. The sweat poured down their faces, and they smiled at me with such happiness. They shook my hand; some of them pinched my cheek until it grew pink. “We’re so glad our Molly’s back,” they all said. “You’re so beautiful, Molly. You make our lives better, Molly.” They said these things over and over, making my heart grow so full.

I padded over to the window after they all left and began removing my ballet shoes. Mel, on the other side of the room, crossed her arms and shook her head.

“What is it?” I asked her, smiling.

“It’s you. You seem so happy. I can’t put my finger on it.”

I shrugged. “Of course I’m happy. I have a dance studio again.” I shook my head, feeling the waves and waves of comfort from the previous hour wash over me.

Mel laughed. “You’re over the moon.”

“What an old-lady expression. Don’t you go hanging out with them outside of class,” I teased her. I placed my shoes in the bag and tidied up a few of the things in the studio. Nothing was in its forever place yet, of course. Nothing was perfect. But it would be, soon. When I built up enough money. I didn’t have to reserve so much to pay back the loan, now. So I could focus on other, more beautiful things.

“Hey. Mel. Do you want to run to the coffee bar? I’m in the mood to celebrate,” I said to her, flipping my blonde hair left to right.

She mimicked me slightly, making me smile. “I’d love to.”

She followed me down the steps. I waved to Carol, saying good-bye. “Why didn’t you join us?” I asked her.

“One too many pints, my darling,” Carol called back, smacking her hand on the bar. “Maybe next time.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I said, winking at her.

Mel and I swept into the street. I wrapped my scarf tight around my neck. “I can’t believe it’s nearly winter.”

Mel was tucked so deep in her own coat that I couldn’t understand her response. We walked toward the end of the road, and spun into the very coffee shop in which I’d met Drew for the first time. I realized I hadn’t thought about him in the last three hours, which made me feel strange, bizarre. I’d been caught up in a different world for a moment. And now, the feel of his touch came rushing back. My face grew hot.


We ordered coffees and sat by the window, gazing out at the huddled people in their broad, Alaskan coats. Mel started telling me about Jackson, and about how he was trying to say words—that the words always came up in spit-up and bubbles. “It’s disgusting, but I think it’s his version of ‘I love you,’” she explained, sipping at her coffee.

I laughed. Her life was so different than mine. “Listen. I have something to tell you,” I said quietly, finally feeling like I needed to tell someone about all that had happened the past few weeks. I swallowed.

“Well. It’s about time,” she said, shaking her head. “Come on, now. Don’t leave me in the dark like that anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I giggled. “Okay. So. First of all, my loan is paid for.”

Mel raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean, paid for? By whom?”

“I have no idea,” I stated, shaking my head back and forth. “I’ve never told anyone about it. I had this whole plan, you know. I was going to set aside money every month for the bills. But now it’s just abruptly disappeared.”

Mel nodded, a glint of knowledge in her eyes.

“You don’t think—“ I began, understanding what her expression meant. Mel thought that Drew had paid for the loan. But that couldn’t be. Why would he care about me, even for an instant? Sure: we’d shared each other; we’d shared our bodies. But he didn’t give a shit about my business, about Molly Says Dance.

“I don’t know. It is mighty suspicious, though. You start dating a millionaire, and then all of a sudden—WHAM. Your loan is paid for. You haven’t talked to him recently, have you?”

I looked down at my hands as they wrapped around the coffee mug before me. I bit my lip. I remembered that I’d ranted to Mel, over and over, about Drew buying the dance studio. And then: I had agreed to leave town with him, to go with him to a millionaire’s retreat and f*ck him in a Jacuzzi. I longed to tell her; but would she hate me for it? Sure, Drew was her cousin. But she had morals.

“Um. Something—something happened—“ I murmured.

Mel smacked her hand lightly on the table, coaxing me to tell her. “What’s up?”

“Well. He um. He invited me to go to Iowa with him. And I did. I went with him to a casino—“

Mel’s eyes widened. She knew all about my inability to go to casinos without thinking of my father. “Was it—did you tell him?”