Head to Head (On Pointe Book 2) Read online

  “Did you get in trouble?”

  “You know what? No one ever said a word to me about it. I don’t even think anyone saw it happen.”

  “Really?” I can’t believe it. It sounds like such a huge mistake to make. “But you messed that other girl up, she wasn’t mad?”

  “Nope, she and I ended up sharing a dressing room for years. She became one of my closest friends actually.” Ms. Parker smiles. “My point, Hannah, is that mistakes aren’t the end of the world. They happen and we move on. And what may seem like the biggest mistake in the world to you, may not even be noticed by anyone else.”

  I hop up, ready to practice my solos again. “Got it. Okay. I’m going to be brave. I can do this.” I take my place in the center of the studio, ready to do the best I can. Maybe it will be good enough, maybe it won’t. But either way I’m determined to do this.

  Ms. Parker and I go through my three solos, Aurora’s Wedding Variation from Act Three of Sleeping Beauty, Kitri’s Act One variation from Don Quixote and a sweeping contemporary solo Ms. Parker choreographed for me. I love how different they are from each other—the delicate regal princess Aurora, the spicy and sassy Kitri and the angular crescendos of my contemporary all draw different parts of me out to share with the audience.

  We spend an hour working together, going over the details we’ve been working on. I’ve had so much extra coaching time this week with everyone else gone for Spring Break, Ms. Parker and I have broken down each solo almost second by second to fine-tune the details. Today she has me running through them over and over, making sure that the changes we’ve worked out and the improvements I’ve made are ingrained in my mind and my body. It’s exhausting, mentally and physically, but so rewarding when I hear her praise.

  “Hannah, that was so much better,” she says as we pack up to head home, once again the only two people left in the building. “I think you’re on the right track now, if we can keep this up, you’ll be ready for the finals at exactly the right time.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Parker.” I smile. “My dad found some flights for us, do you want him to send you the details?”

  “Sure, that would be great. You’re planning to arrive a day or two early right?”

  “Just one day, I think. We’re going to stay for a couple of days after the competition to sightsee. I didn’t want to sightsee before the competition.” I explain.

  “Smart planning. I’m looking to see what studio space I can reserve, so we have time to work on our own between all the other stuff.” Ms. Parker locks the doors and walks out to the parking lot with me. “Get some sleep, and rest tomorrow. You’ve worked incredibly hard this week.” I promise to rest and hop in my car to drive home.

  I manage to make it all the way home without checking my phone for any texts from Trevor. See, it’s nothing, we’re just friends. I let myself feel smug about it for a moment as I park in the driveway. I haven’t checked my phone since our lunch break, surely that shows how much self-control I have, right? Although, I suppose the fact that I am acutely aware of how long I held out from checking, knowing that I really want to, maaaaaay prove that he’s on my mind more than I want to admit.

  Maybe.

  My disappointment when there aren’t any messages from him might mean I’m a little more invested than I want to admit. Maybe.

  Maybe I should send him a message? He did send me a whole bunch of messages and I never answered any of them, I suppose it’s my turn.

  Me: Bringing the jokes today I see. Don’t you have anything better to do?

  I toss my phone on my bed while I hunt for a pair of pajamas in the disaster that is my room. There are clothes all over the floor, a clear line between the clean and the dirty ones, but still a mess. I should clean up, even though all I want to do is lay on my bed and worry about New York.

  Worried about falling on stage? Check.

  Imagining I’ll be the most awkward competitor there? Check.

  Picturing every minor disaster—getting my period onstage, a shoe ribbon coming untied, a tutu strap breaking? Check, check and check.

  What if everyone hates me? What if no one else there will talk to me?

  Would someone try to sabotage me?

  The buzzing of my phone disrupts my morbid thoughts.

  Trevor: I’ll have you know I did plenty of other things today. 8 mile run this morning, pestered you, walked my dog, pestered you again, did a little homework, sent you a text, stared at the gray sky wondering if you’d ever respond, watched an episode of Drunk History, refrained from sending you yet another text, and now I’m cleaning my room and doing laundry.

  My stomach does that funny, twisty thing as I read his text. I can’t help smiling at the phone in my hand, which is so freaking dumb, but I can’t seem to help it.

  Me: I need to do laundry. And probably clean my room too, but I’m so tired. I just want to lay here on my bed and do nothing.

  Trevor: Come on TT, get the laundry done and the room clean. We can suffer through it together.

  Me: TT?

  Trevor: Twinkle Toes

  Trevor: Get to it TT, I’ve got a head start on you.

  Me: Ok, fine. I’m doing it.

  I roll off my bed with a groan and start gathering up the dirty clothes on my floor. My phone buzzes on the bed but I ignore it, my arms spilling over with dirty leotards and various other clothes. It keeps buzzing, over and over. It takes me a second to realize that it’s ringing, not a string of messages. Dropping my armload, I snatch it up and swipe to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Twinkle Toes,” Trevor’s deep voice answers me.

  “Oh…hi?” My heart starts racing in my chest. We’d switched from Instagram messaging to texting a few weeks ago when Trevor was trying to send me a YouTube link, but we haven’t spoken on the phone yet. I forgot how nice his voice was. Trevor chuckles, the sound settling deep in the pit of my stomach where it sends a flurry of butterflies rocketing through me.

  “I thought it would be easier to clean our rooms if we weren’t stopping every other minute to type.” He sounds apologetic.

  “No, no, it’s a good idea. I was just...uh...surprised.”

  I grab my earbuds and plug them into my phone, tucking it in the back of my leggings. I wish more leggings had pockets.

  “So…” I start.

  “So…” Trevor says at the exact same time. We both laugh, a little nervously. Trevor clears his throat. “I was going to ask how dance was. You already heard about my day,” he adds with a low chuckle.

  “Oh, yeah.” I grunt as I start gathering up the clothes I’d dropped in my hurry to answer. “It was good. Almost everyone’s been gone all week because of Spring Break, it was nice to actually have everyone back in class again. I liked having time on my own, but it was getting a little lonely.”

  “No Olivia?”

  I laugh, dumping the load in my arms into the washing machine. “Nope, she’s been off having fun with Tyler all week. Today was the first time I’ve seen her, and even then she skipped class and only came for rehearsal.”

  “How…” Trevor clears his throat. “Um...how’s that going?”

  “Tyler and Olivia?”

  There’s a long silence as I get the machine going and head back to my room. I assume Trevor must be doing the same. When he still doesn’t say anything I start picking up the clean clothes left on my floor and dumping them on my bed. “They’re fine, I guess. I mean, I don’t see them much except at school. They seem good.”

  “It doesn’t bother you anymore?”

  I freeze, the shirt in my hand sliding back to the bed. That’s what he’s getting at? I suppose I never said anything to him after my epiphany a few weeks ago. Has he assumed I was still pining after Tyler this whole time?

  “I got over it a while ago.” I swallow hard, pick up a shirt and start fo
lding. “Honestly, they’re perfect for each other. And I dunno...I think I was just holding onto something to hold onto it, not because it actually meant anything.”

  Trevor is silent for a long moment. The butterflies in my stomach are twisting it up in knots. I shouldn’t have said that, why did I tell him that? God, I’m so dumb. Of course that wasn’t what Trevor wanted to know. Way to go Hannah, way to make this the most embarrassing night of your life. My face is flushed and a torrent of words builds in my throat, ready to explode, to say something, anything that will make this horrible feeling go away. I’m opening my mouth to let them start tumbling out when Trevor interrupts my thoughts.

  “Hannah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You definitely made the right choice.” His voice drops down to a whisper. “Tyler puts ketchup on his sushi.”

  A giggle bursts from my lips. I’m having visions of Tyler’s sad attempts at using chopsticks from the night we had our celebratory dinner at Noriko, with the added horror of him dipping his sushi rolls in ketchup. “Oh my god, that’s so gross!” I laugh.

  I keep picking up my room as we chat, Tyler making me laugh most of the time with his silly questions.

  “Coke or Pepsi?”

  “Coke.”

  “Cheez-Its or Goldfish?”

  “Goldfish are disgusting. I’ll take a granola bar.”

  “Cheez-its and Pepsi are the best combination,” Trevor tries to argue me into agreeing but I stand firm.

  “Would you rather be able to fly or read minds?”

  “Definitely fly. Think of the grand allegro I’d be able to do. What about you?”

  “Right now, I’d really like to be able to read minds.”

  My cheeks heat when Trevor’s voice goes soft and low on those last words.

  “Whose mind would you want to read?” I whisper.

  “Guess.”

  Chapter Six

  Lisa

  It’s been two essays, three tests, one group project and countless furtive glances in the three weeks since Spring Break. I’m so overwhelmed I don’t know if I want to sleep for a week or scream. I’m so tired my eyes ache, and my brain is one fact away from exploding. It’s been a never-ending cycle of school, homework, dance. Studying until I can’t stay awake anymore, a few hours of sleep and then getting up early to catch a ride to school.

  Pro—I’m so tired at the end of the night that I don’t have a chance to wonder about why Hunter is suddenly so friendly.

  Con—I dream about him instead. My dreams are way too full of warm brown eyes and rainbow-colored notes.

  “Hey, Sport,” Hunter nudges my arm as he sits next to me in Chem on Friday. Yeah, that’s been happening ever since spring break. “You look tired.”

  “Hi. You look like crap too,” I can’t help snarking back. “Way to make a girl feel good about herself.” Hunter smirks at me, like he knows I don’t mean it. I don’t, he never looks like crap. I’ve spent enough time surreptitiously studying his profile in class, I should know.

  “Purple or green?” He tips his case of pens toward me, letting me pick out a color. My notes aren’t quite the rainbow that his are, but after seeing how he used the different colors to highlight the different connections and how he visually connected the dots on his pages, I’ve started using one or two extra colors in my own notes.

  My fingers hover over the pen caps. “Both?”

  “You make it sound like I’m your dealer or something.” Hunter shakes the case at me and I grab his wrist to hold it still while I pick out a green and a purple pen. I ignore the flash of something that hits my chest when my fingers touch his skin. I’m so tired I imagine Hunter taking a sharp breath as I touch his wrist. I really need to get a good night’s sleep, now I’m hallucinating.

  I glance at the clock, we still have a few minutes before class is supposed to start. Maybe I can just lay my head down for a minute. “Lisa?” I drag my eyes to Hunter’s face, blinking away the intense desire to close them for a moment.

  “Yeah?”

  Hunter rubs a hand on the back of his neck, clearing his throat. “The regional track meet is this weekend. I’m hoping to qualify for state in a couple of events.”

  “That’s awesome, Hunter.” I have no idea why he’s telling me this. “Is Katy going to be able to watch at all?”

  “Huh?” He looks confused for a second, before shaking his head. “I don’t know. She never comes to the Saturday events, cause, well…” He vaguely waves his hand in my direction and I nod. Katy spends her Saturdays at the studio with me and Hannah. “Sometimes she comes on Sundays though. You could… uh… come with her and keep her company.”

  “I have Japanese school on Sundays.” I sigh, tired just thinking about it. Disappointment rushes through me. For a split second, I pictured myself sitting in the stands cheering Hunter on as he ran. Hurdled? What’s the past tense of “I don’t know the names of track and field events?”

  “I should see if Hannah would go with her though,” I add, instinct telling me to ease the fact that I have to decline the invitation.

  “Japanese school is all day?”

  I’m not too tired to miss the matching look of disappointment on Hunter’s face. Surely I imagined that? I must be more tired than I thought.

  “Well, kind of. It alternates. Some weeks it’s from eight to noon, other weeks it’s from two to six. But I’m usually there the whole time because of my little brother.” The Japanese school Ray and I attend is split into two age groups that alternate the time they come in. But I usually go the whole time and study during Ray’s class so my parents don’t have to drive back and forth. I have my license, but my parents don’t often let me take the car, so it sits uselessly in my wallet.

  “What time is it this weekend?” Hunter asks so quickly I lean back, regarding him suspiciously. “Um, Katy didn’t want to go by herself this week. She was whining about it in the car this morning.”

  Pulling my phone out, I check my calendar app. I know I’m exhausted, but I swear it sounded like Hunter wanted me to come to his meet on Sunday. It never crossed my mind as something I could actually do, but now that I think about it, I want to go. My life consists of school, dance and studying. That’s it. I don’t have time for things like high school track meets. Or boys. Especially boys who happen to be the older brother of one of my best friends in the world. Besides, he probably doesn’t mean it like I’m imagining. I’m sure he just doesn’t want Katy to keep whining about it.

  “This week is two to six. Why?”

  “My events are first up, maybe you could come for a little while?”

  Could I?

  I mean, I suppose I could ask. It’s not like I’d be asking to skip it altogether, just to go hang out with a friend before I went instead of using the extra time to study. It’s never occurred to me to try and be social on the weekends. My parents allowed me to skip Japanese school a few weekends in the winter to go to summer intensive auditions, and obviously the weekend we competed at YIGP, but I’ve never asked to skip it to hang out with my friends. I always assumed it was an automatic no.

  “I guess I can try?” The grin that lights up Hunter’s face sends a wave of giddiness through me. I’m about to say something else when Mr. Fitzgerald clears his throat to start class.

  “Why do you want to come?” Katy stares at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “It’s a track meet. I’m only going to ‘be supportive’” The face Katy pulls to accompany her air quote fingers has Hannah and I laughing. We’re lying on the floor in the studio, waiting for Ms. Parker to start tonight’s class.

  I think fast, trying to come up with a reason that won’t sound lame. “Because you have to go. I figured if we came with you, then it wouldn’t be so terrible.” My brain finally fishes a reasonable excuse from the depths of my overworked mind. “Besides, if I come, I have to be back f
or Japanese school by two, so then you have a reason to leave early.”

  Katy considers this piece of information for a long minute. I kick Hannah’s foot with my own. “You’ll come too, right? It’ll be fun, we can just hang out.”

  “You want to just hang out?” Hannah says, disbelief written all over her face.

  “I miss you guys. I’ve been so busy with school, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  Katy laughs. “We see you at dance every day, Lisa.”

  “That’s different. We don’t hang out in class, we work,” Hannah defends me. “Well, most of us work,” she adds, sticking her tongue out at Katy.

  “Ok ladies, let’s begin.” Ms. Parker’s voice cuts through the various quiet conversations in the room and we quickly stand up and focus on her words. “So, facing the barre, we’ll start in first position. And, demi plie, and stretch, rise and lower. Repeat three times, then roll up through your feet and find your balance. Got it?”

  We nod and place ourselves at the barre. I go through the motions, my legs slowly warming and stretching, my feet going from stiff and aching, to malleable and alive. My mind wanders as I move, only half focused on the movements I’m making.

  Am I imagining that Hunter is interested in me? Is he just being nice because we hung out at Wedgewood? Or maybe he’s being nice because I’m Katy’s friend. But that doesn’t make sense, I’ve been friends with Katy for years and he’s never shown any interest in talking to me before. Maybe he just likes having someone to talk to about his classes, his brothers and Katy aren’t exactly academic.

  And what about Katy? If Hunter was interested in me, how would she feel about it? Would she be mad at me? Katy didn’t seem very happy about the idea of us being friends with her brothers when we spent the night at her house a few weeks ago. And Hannah mentioned something about Katy not wanting to share her friends with them. Remembering how crowded their house was that weekend, and how many friends her brothers have, I can understand why she’s a little possessive of Hannah and me. Her brothers don’t need more friends, not when our entire school wants to hang out with them.