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Head to Head (On Pointe Book 2) Page 7
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Katy: Hunter insisted I send it. I hope you appreciate what a good friend and sister I am
Me: Your sacrifice has been noted and appreciated.
I stare at the photo, memorizing the happy look on Hunter’s face, for the first time in my life wishing I’d skipped out on doing what my parents expected of me and stayed. The only thing I’ve ever fought them for has been ballet. Do I dare fight for him too?
Locking my phone and shoving it back in my bag, I take a moment to remind myself of what I want. Hannah isn’t the only one who wants to be a professional ballerina—we’ve daydreamed about dancing in the same company one day. I want to dance. I need to dance. And the only way to do that is to keep up my end of the deal I made with my parents. I don’t have time to be distracted by Hunter or any other boy. What am I thinking?
If he lived in a different state, like Trevor, things might be different. I could spend time with him on my own terms. But Hunter is right here. My best friend’s brother. I’d be risking everything. My grades, my chance to dance this summer, my friendship with Katy. Hunter may be amazing, but no boy is worth giving up everything I’ve worked so hard for.
Iron bands around my chest squeeze hard for a moment, leaving me breathless. I’ve never been so glad to see my teacher walk in, pulling me to my feet with the rest of the class as we bow and greet him.
Monday morning feels like the Monday to end all Mondays as I slink into class, fifteen minutes before school starts. I take one look at the lab bench I’ve been sitting at all semester and know I can’t sit there today. He’s going to come sit next to me and I’m going to forget all the reasons I should avoid him the second I smell his shampoo. He’s going to offer me my choice of one of his rainbow pens and I’m going to crumble.
Desperate to maintain an ounce of control over my stupid heart, I make my way to the lab table at the back of the class, far away from my usual spot nearer the front. A junior I don’t know, I think her name is Jordan, is already sitting there so I slide into the seat on her right, next to the wall.
Pro—I’m as far away from Hunter as possible, with a stranger as a buffer for good measure.
Con—Sitting at the back of the class feels wrong, like I’m not putting in full effort. Not to mention it’s much harder for my five three self to see over people’s heads from back here.
But I can do this, I have to do this. A glance down at her notebook sitting on the table confirms I was right, Jordan Johnson.
Jordan turns to look at me. “Um, why are you sitting here?”
I shrug and start pulling my notebook out of my backpack. “Is that okay?”
“Doesn’t matter to me.” She turns back to her notes, ignoring me. Perfect. I just need to get through this class and then my day can go back to normal. Right?
There’s still ten minutes until class starts and I’ve rearranged the pens in front of me for the tenth time when Hunter walks in the door, his eyes glued to the lab table where we always sit. He’s holding two coffee cups in his hands. I shrink on my stool, hoping that Jordan is tall enough to hide me from his view. Of course I’m not that lucky.
Hunter stands in the middle of the room for a moment, looking around. The moment he spots me, he stalks toward the empty table in front of me. Rookie mistake, not checking for the empty seat in front of me. He’s going to sit there, I know it. He’s going to force me to stare at his back, imagining the toned muscles I know are there, see the way the light glints off his dark chocolate hair, the perfectly messy mop that’s a little long on top and delightfully silky. Well, I imagine it’s delightfully silky. Need to add that to the cons list. Or should it be the pro list?
Hunter sets the coffee cups down on his lab table before setting his backpack on the floor next to his stool. Silently, he turns to set one of the cups on the table in front of me, grins, then hooks a foot around his stool and sits on it, resting his elbows on the edge of my table. He jerks his chin at the cup he placed in front of me and takes a sip of his own. He still hasn’t said a word to me, but his eyes are talking a mile a minute.
I can’t keep looking at him. The way his eyes shift from teasing to hopeful to pleading to unsure is melting my determination to stay away. Dropping my eyes to his coffee cup offering with a sigh, I wrap my fingers around it and pull it closer. “Thanks,” I murmur.
“Nice job yesterday,” Jordan interrupts our silent conversation. “Congrats on placing.”
“Thanks JJ, you too.” Jordan Johnson. JJ. This must be the mysterious JJ Katy and Jack were talking about yesterday. Of course I would choose to sit next to her. It would be too much to ask for the universe to play nice, wouldn’t it?
“Lisa…” He’s interrupted by the bell and I take advantage of his distraction to take a sip and lean back on my stool, the silence broken. Of course, it’s perfectly sweetened green tea, my favorite, and it’s at exactly the right temperature. Because the universe loves to torture me and remind me that Hunter is amazing. I know, universe, you do not need to remind me. It would be much more helpful if you’d help me forget.
The rest of the class trickles through the door, taking seats. A guy I recognize from the track meet greets Hunter enthusiastically and slides onto the stool next to him. Jordan leans close. “Um, how did you get Hunter Quinn to bring you coffee? And how can I get him to do it for me?” I nearly choke on the sip I was taking as she whispers in my ear.
I cough a few times to clear my throat, earning me a quizzical glance from Hunter and a laugh from Jordan. “Um, what?” I manage to say.
“Well, now that Tyler Stanley is off the market, Hunter and Jack Quinn are the hottest guys in the Junior class. How did you score Hunter bringing you coffee? Also, why are you avoiding him? You two have been sitting together for weeks.”
I flounder for words. Not once in all my years of school has someone wanted to know so much about me. People only talk to me when they want answers to a homework question. No one outside of Hannah and Katy has ever bothered to ask anything else about me.
And then it hits me. Jordan isn’t asking about me. She’s asking about Hunter. I look around the room and realize that most of the girls in class are glancing at me or Hunter and whispering to each other. I shrink down on my stool. This is exactly what I was afraid of. I’m a nobody. Actually, I’m worse than a nobody. I’m that “smart chick,” the nerd who has always been the youngest in the class because I was the seventh grader being bussed to the high school for Algebra. Up until now, no one paid any attention to me because who cares about the dork who’s good at school and pays attention in class? I wasn’t a threat, I was a ticket to an easy answer on a test.
But now that one of the most sought-after guys in school is paying attention to me? Now I’m a threat.
“I’m friends with his little sister, that’s all,” I say as Hunter turns around to say something to me. “We’re just friends, right?” I say, feigning bravery, wishing Mr. Fitzgerald would start class early.
Jordan eyes me and Hunter. Out of the corner of my eye I notice other girls leaning close, trying to listen to our conversation. “Just friends? That right, Hunter?” It’s hard to focus on them while Hunter is staring me down.
He holds my gaze for an instant, then looks at Jordan, releasing me from his gaze. “What’s up, JJ?”
Jordan giggles and I take a huge sip of my perfect tea. I’m saved from any more embarrassment when Mr. Fitzgerald clears his throat at the front of the room.
The fluorescent lights reflect off his balding head as he leans down to pick up a stack of papers. “As you know, we are getting close to the end of the year, so it’s time for your final project. I have assigned you a partner who you will work with to create and perform an experiment of your choice.” He hands the stack of papers to a girl in the front line who takes one and hands it to the person next to her. “I have randomly assigned partners and before anyone asks me, no, you cannot switc
h partners. Don’t even ask.” With that, he flips on the projector and pulls down the screen. Someone flips off the lights so we can see the list of names being projected onto it.
I run my eyes down the list looking for my name. Blansett, Chin, Garcia, Gonzalez, Hamaskai. There. I look for the name beside mine and nearly choke on my tea again.
Quinn.
Something rustles in front of my face and I look up to see Hunter holding the stack of papers, a huge grin on his face.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me, Sport,” he whispers, before turning back to face the front and Mr. Fitzgerald’s lecture.
I’m dead.
“Should we meet at lunch to discuss the project?”
“I’m busy. I promised Hannah and Katy I’d help them study for their Bio test.”
“I call BS. Come on. I’ll take you to get tacos?”
“I cannot be bribed with tacos.”
“Don’t be like that, Sport. I need a good grade on this project, and I know you do too.” Hunter pulls out all the stops, sticking out his full bottom lip, his eyes meltingly earnest. “Please?”
“Fine. I’ll meet you at your truck.”
Chapter Nine
Hannah
Katy keeps eyeing Lisa. Probably because Jack keeps threatening to make good on their bet and she doesn’t want to clean their upstairs bathroom for a month. “How was lunch with Hunter yesterday? I hope it was worth abandoning us to the struggle of biology homework without your help.” Katy is in fine form tonight.
“I told you, Katy, we were trying to plan our project, it’s the last big grade of the year, I have to do well. And lunch was awful. Not the tacos—Taco Stop is always good—but it was so embarrassing to be there with him. I never knew how crowded and noisy it gets at lunchtime,” Lisa says, taking a sip from her water bottle. We’re relaxing in the dressing room between classes.
“That’s because you three never go. I could have warned you you’d never get any work done there,” Olivia pipes up between bites of her granola bar.
“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” Lisa mumbles into her notebook. I don’t say anything, I’m pretty sure she didn’t intend for anyone to hear her say it, but I am curious. It is a little bit weird the way she and Hunter have been hanging out more. I hope she doesn’t get her hopes up, not after what Katy told me at the track meet.
She puts her head down and quietly writes in her notebook for a minute. The rest of us are silent, scrolling through our phones.
I’m trying hard not to let the nerves that have been building in the pit of my stomach for the last week get the better of me. My parents and I leave for New York City and the Youth International Grand Prix finals in less than a week. I’ve been training like crazy with Ms. Parker and trying to keep myself distracted from my nerves. Trevor is a pretty nice distraction from my anxiety. I’m scrolling back through my recent conversation with him, smiling to myself when Lisa speaks up. “Olivia? How do you do it?”
Confused, all three of us look at Lisa. She isn’t making eye contact with any of us, still writing away in her notebook. She glances up at our confused faces and ducks her head.
“Do what?” Olivia asks.
“Everything? How do you have the time to do everything?”
What a weird question. Lisa is the most organized person I know. In fact, I always assumed she had her whole day planned out from start to finish in her planner. I’ve always wanted to ask her the same exact question.
“Well…” Olivia chews her bottom lip, gathering her thoughts. “Honestly? I don’t.”
“What does that even mean?” I can’t help asking.
“Well, I mean, I have a lot on my plate, but you guys do too, that’s not news. I guess, I don’t try to be one hundred percent perfect at everything the way you do.” She shrugs, but then pauses and looks thoughtful, she knows Lisa won’t be satisfied with that answer. “I don’t even attempt to make straight A’s. B’s are good enough for me. As long as I’m passing all my classes, my dad is happy.”
We all nod, that makes sense. Katy and Lisa are the only ones of us who truly aim for straight A’s. My parents and Olivia’s dad feel the same way about school, that’s why I dropped taking any honors classes in high school, so I could keep my grades higher while being committed to dance. With the amount of extra coaching I’ve been doing in the last two weeks, I’ve been even more glad I opted out of the harder classes. Olivia pokes me good-naturedly. “You’ve seen for yourself, I sometimes have to skip ballet to be at cheer. But it’s not like I want to be a ballerina like you guys.” She points at Lisa and I. “So if I’m only here four or five days a week I think that’s plenty. I’m here because I want to be here, because I enjoy taking class and I love to perform, but that’s it.”
I guess she has a point. “So, you’re saying you manage to fit everything in because you’re half-assing half of them?” Katy laughs. “Good to know.” We all laugh at this one, but Olivia hasn’t answered the part of that question I was most interested in. I already knew she skipped classes and didn’t aim for perfection at school.
“How do you fit in a boyfriend though?” I ask, before I chicken out of voicing my true worry.
Olivia looks at me thoughtfully. “We text a lot. We do our homework together, sometimes together and sometimes over Facetime. One of these days I’m hoping my dad will let him come over while I’m babysitting the monsters.” She blows out a sigh. “I haven’t asked yet, still working up to that.” I guess her dad still doesn’t fully trust her after the whole lying-about-where-she-was incident.
“Oh,” I say quietly.
“So basically, what you and Trevor already do. Or could be doing, if you weren’t a big chicken.” Oliva points out, in case I hadn’t connected the very obvious dots.
“I am not a chicken. I have other priorities right now. But, how do you not think about him all day when you’re busy doing other things?”
Olivia laughs at that. Lisa looks surprised, like I’d read her mind. Katy just raises an eyebrow, eyeing all three of us like we’re crazy. “Well, I’m not going to lie. When we first started dating Tyler took up a lot of my brain power, but it’s easier now. I mean, I still think about him a lot, don’t get me wrong, but now that it’s been a couple of months, I’m not so obsessive about it.”
“You don’t like him as much?” I ask, confused.
“No, I like him more now. I know he likes me back and I trust him, so I don’t spend all day wondering about us.” Olivia shrugs. I guess that’s easy for her to do. She’s always been the self-assured one of our group. “Not wondering and worrying all the time leaves a lot of room in my brain for actual coherent thought you know,” she adds with a wink.
“Speaking of…” Katy interrupts, pointing at the phone in my hand. “What’s the scoop?”
I blush and tuck my phone out of sight in my bag. “Um, nothing. We just text. That’s all.”
“Ugh! Would you do something already?” Olivia groans. “This is the most boring love story ever,” she adds, getting a laugh from all of us.
“You just proved my point, Liv. I don’t have time for boys. I need to be one hundred percent focused and committed, especially right now. The finals are in a week. No boys.” I cross my arms over my chest. It’s not like I haven’t had this exact debate with myself every night for the past month. Hearing Olivia say the only way to have it all is to give up having it all is the exact reminder I needed that my goals are bigger than having a boyfriend and good grades. That may be enough for some people, but it’s not enough for me.
I ignore the buzzing of my phone as I reach into my bag and pull my pointe shoes out. “Come on, we have rehearsal.”
Trevor: Just finished my homework. How are you doing with yours?
Annoyed at how desperately I want to respond, I toss my phone on my bed and pull my binder out of my backpack inst
ead. I know it’s unfair of me, but I’m annoyed that Trevor is finished already. My phone buzzes a few more times as I try to decide what to do first, my math review or read for English.
I pull out the review sheet for math, wanting to get the worst thing over with first. I stare at the first problem, the numbers dancing in front of my eyes, my brain a million miles away from the equation in front of me. I glance at my phone, laying there so innocently on the bed. I’ll turn on some music, that’s all.
Picking it up, of course the first thing I see is a series of messages from Trevor.
Trevor: After several hours of waiting for you to respond I realized that you were at dance this whole time and I bet my text pissed you off, didn’t it?
Trevor: If it makes you feel any better, karma has already exacted her revenge because I forgot I have an entire paper to write tonight that’s due in 1st period tomorrow.
Trevor: Go ahead and laugh, I’ll wait.
This is followed by a gif of Jack Sparrow getting slapped in the face.
Me: I wasn’t going to respond because I was annoyed. But now I feel very vindicated.
I add a gif of Morticia Addams sipping tea to add to my point.
I don’t get a response right away, so I put some music on and try again to concentrate on the equation I’m supposed to be doing something with. I do not understand the point of Algebra. It’s just changing the equation from writing it one way to writing it another? We don’t even get answers, the answer is another equation. Frustrated, I start moving the numbers around, praying I’m doing it the right way.
I’ve gotten through another three problems when my music stops. Confused, I look down to see that Trevor is trying to video chat with me. I hit accept by reflex, only remembering that I look like a hot mess after I see his face on the screen.