Complete Nothing (True Love #2)(68)

It was a statement, not a question.

“Actually, I hadn’t thought about it,” I told him.

He put his hand on his chest. “You hadn’t thought about it? I’m deeply offended.”

I laughed. “I guess I’ve just been more focused on the actual audition. The piece I’m going to perform . . . the terror of the whole thing . . .”

“Understood,” he said. “But we are carpooling, yes?”

“Sure,” I said, realizing that if I drove down there alone I’d probably psych myself out, and if I drove down there with my parents, they’d probably psych me out. Lance and I would just sing and laugh and try not to think about where we were headed. “That’d be fun.”

“You know it will be,” he said with a smile. Then he got up, executed a mean brisé, and sank to the floor to stretch.

My cell phone beeped, and my heart did a brisé of its own. Somehow, whenever I got a text, I still pictured Peter’s face. But I supposed that was only natural. It had been less than a week since we’d uncoupled. I concentrated on shoving the thought of him aside. Once his smile had vanished, I pulled out my phone. The text was from Keegan.

JUST GOT OUT OF THE SHOWER. WHERE ARE U?

If it’s possible to blush from head to toe, I did it. Was Keegan sexting me? Was I supposed to, like, text back what I was wearing? I couldn’t participate in that. Not only was the very idea already making my throat close over, but I wouldn’t have a clue where to start. Best to ignore it. Pretend it wasn’t happening.

BALLET REHEARSAL ABOUT TO START. GOTTA GO.

I hit send and shut off my phone, but I was shaking so hard I couldn’t finish my laces. I sat back and took deep breaths instead. And unintentionally pictured Keegan’s naked, wet body.

“What’s with you?” Lauren asked, peeling a banana as she took Lance’s vacated chair. “You look like you just swallowed your tongue.”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” I bent down to make another attempt at my right shoe, now shoving Keegan from my mind. It wasn’t lost on me that there was a lot of mental boy-shoving going on lately, and I wondered what it said about who I was. Was I a slut? Boy obsessed? Or plain old confused? Whatever the case, now was not the time to figure it out. “What’s up with you?”

“Nada mucho.” Lauren slumped in her chair, in the way that drove Madame Helene completely insane, and chewed on her banana. “How’re things with the magnificent Keegan?”

There was his naked body again. I choked on my own breath. Why was she using the term “magnificent”?

“Fine. Good. Normal. Why?”

She took another bite. “Just curious.”

I managed to knot the ribbon behind my calf and sat up, posture perfectly straight. “You don’t like him, do you?”

“What?” Her eyes were wide as she swallowed. “No! Of course I like him. If you like him, I like him.”

“Really?” I asked, dubious. Lauren had never been one to not form her own opinion before. “I mean, you did try to warn me off him in the beginning.”

“Oh, that.” She waved a hand. “So he broke Felicity’s heart. Doesn’t everyone break a heart or two at some point?”

“Um . . . I guess.”

“Just because he didn’t like her, doesn’t mean he can’t like you.” She slung her arm heavily around my shoulder as Mia and her friend Alicia traipsed in the door, followed quickly by Lance’s one male compatriot in our class, Craig Churgin. The room began to fill with conversation as everyone chose stretching spots and got down to work. “In fact, I think you should invite him to the recital.”

I felt a shock of nervousness at the mere suggestion of this.

“Isn’t that a little . . . soon?” I asked as I rolled one ankle, then the other. “I mean, he’s not even my boyfriend. Not technically.”

“It’s not like you’re asking him to marry you,” Lauren said, finishing off her banana. She released me, folded up the peel, and shoved it in the side pocket of her bag. “You’re asking him to sit on his butt for two hours and watch some pretty spectacular dancing, if I do say so myself.”

For some guys, that’s actually worse than a marriage proposal, I thought.

“If he’s into you, he’s going to want to be there,” she said, standing. “Ballet is your first love. Any guy you’re with should respect that, right?”

I looked up at her, cool trepidation filling my chest. “I guess.”

She paused, lifting one heel and then the other, loosening up her feet. “Unless . . . you think he’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t support you. Do you think he’s that kind of guy?”

“No.” I stood up and reached back for my right ankle to stretch my quad. “No. He’s definitely not. He thinks it’s cool that I’m into ballet. He said it the first day we met.”

“Then ask him,” Lauren said, walking to the center of the floor and dropping down into a split. Her brown eyes were clear when she looked up at me and seemed huge as they reflected the track lighting overhead, pink and yellow and white. “What’ve you got to lose?”

“Nothing,” I said, even as my stomach clenched. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”