My heart pounds like a drummer rocking out and a thin trail of sweat drips down the back of my neck as I eyeball his offered hand with reluctance.
Just take his hand. A simple hand hold. Don’t let it mean anything more.
I’m not sure I can do this, and I hate myself for acting weak.
It’s just dancing.
But it’s so much more.
As if sensing my panic attack, Luca gently threads our fingers together then reaches for my other hand. He lightly places my palms on his shoulders then steps closer to me until the tips of his sneakers brush my toes.
“See, not so bad,” he says, looping his arms around my waist. His fingers tremble the slightest as they spread across my lower back, contradicting his words.
I try not to notice the smell of his cologne or that he’s not wearing his glasses. But I notice. A lot. “Not so bad? We’re being forced to dance in my living room. I feel like I’m at a middle school prom.”
“Just be thankful there’s no one watching us,” he jokes with a half smile.
“Yeah, right.” I raise my voice loud enough so Easton can hear me. “There’s a creepy old dude watching us in the corner.”
“I’m not that old,” Easton argues, crossing his arms. “Now, come on. Move faster and do a few spins.”
Panic seizes my throat. “I can’t spin. I’ll fall on my ass.”
“Just go slow,” he instructs, sitting down on the armrest of the sofa. “And let Luca hold most of your weight.” When I hesitate, he adds, “You can do this, Anna. Otherwise, I wouldn’t push you.”
“I’m going to fall,” I whine, my fingertips stabbing into Luca’s shoulders.
“No, you won’t.” Easton props his foot on his knee and sits back, completely at ease. “Just trust Luca, and you’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, just trust me,” Luca teases, softly pinching my side.
A shiver tingles up my spine. “Please, just don’t let me fall,” I beg, our gazes locking.
Luca’s expression softens. “I promise I won’t.”
I shove down the lump in my throat and nod. We start swaying, turning in a slow circle. Luca leads and supports most of my weight. I feel like someone’s strangling me, and I can’t get air into my lungs as my head spins with a foggy memory.
“Anna, you look so beautiful on stage,” my mom says, pulling me in for a hug. “You’re becoming such an amazing dancer. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I wrap my arms around her and breathe in deep, feeling so loved. “And thanks for supporting my dream and always driving me to lessons. I know you’re busy.”
“I’m never too busy to support your dreams.” She kisses the top of my head then steps back to look at me. “You’ll always come first, no matter what. All of my kids will.”
I breathe in and out as my blood boils with anger.
Lies! All lies! Where are you now, Mom? Not here to drive me to lessons, to help Alexis with her art, to watch Nikoli play football, or to obsess over books with Zhara. That’s all been put on Loki.
“Anna, are you okay?” Luca asks, concerned.
I nod my head up and down and step closer to him, holding on tighter than I probably should. But I’m afraid if I let go, I’ll fall, and I might never want to get up. His breath tickles against my skin, and quickens the nearer we get. His fingers are unsteady on my back, and I feel sickly gratified that I’m not the only one who’s nervous.
We continue to dance through the entire length of the song, and I gradually calm down enough to rest my head on his shoulder. We’re so offbeat, though, that the dancer hiding inside me just about loses her mind. I want to take over, show them how it’s done, but I’m scared to death to step into those shoes again. They no longer fit on the foot of my scarred leg that doesn’t move as flawlessly as it used to.
“So what’s up with the zombie movie on the TV?” Luca whispers in my ear, brushing my hair out of the way. “Seems like an odd choice, considering it’s Christmas Eve, but I’m betting you have your own weird reasons.”
“I find it calming.” I shudder from the feel of his fingers sketching a path back and forth across my back.
A low chuckle reverberates through his chest. “For some reason, I’m not surprised. I mean, we did establish that you were a little crazy.”
I close my eyes, a faint smile touching my lips. Fortunately, my head is turned to the side so no one can it. “You don’t know me that well, Luca Benton, so don’t assume you do.”
“But I do, Annabella Baker. You’re the girl who likes to wear leather jackets and sweaters in ninety-six degree weather, who hates getting help, who wanders more than anyone I’ve ever met, who loves Snickers and M&Ms mixed together, and who secretly likes classic rock and guys who are old school.” He leans back, looks at me, and grins.
I suck my bottom lip between my teeth. He knows more about me than I thought.
His grin expands, and he tugs me back against him, crashing our bodies together.
There’s something intimate about the way our chests and legs are aligned, how my head is resting against his shoulder, and how he grazes his fingers across my back. I can tell he’s nervous by the faltering exhales he keeps taking and it makes me like him. And I mean, really, really like him. I like the way he smells. The way he doesn’t offer me a chemical escape from reality. The way he teases me. The way he sends me little texts. They’re all little things, but it’s the way I always imagined dating would be. Cute and sweet instead of sloppy and rushed. Just like how I thought my parents were. Their relationship may not have been what I thought it was, but I still want what I thought they had. And I don’t know what to do with that.
Luca trips and stomps my toe with his foot. “Sorry,” he apologizes as a flush creeps across his cheeks.
“You’re fine.” I heave a sigh and glance at Easton. “How long do we have to do this?”
He’s messing around with his phone and singing the lyrics under his breath. “I’ll let you know when time’s up.”
Knowing Easton, he’ll make me do this until my leg hurts so badly I’m in tears. I make a choice, mostly blaming the decision on Easton, but just thinking about it breathes life into my veins for the first time since the car wreck.
Loosening up, I move left and right, then back and forth with flawlessly timed steps.
Luca stares down at our feet. “What are you doing?”
“Dancing.” My fingernails dig into his shirt when my leg wobbles. I won’t fall. I won’t fall. “What’re you doing?”
Our gazes collide and his lips quirk. “Apparently, taking the chick’s role.”
I snort a laugh, and Easton’s head whips in our direction, his face contorted in confusion. “Are you okay?” He looks at me like my laugh is on the endangered species list or something.
To distract Easton, and myself, from my temporary loss of sanity, I tell Luca, “Spin me.”
He pulls a wary face. “Are you sure? I kind of suck at all of this.”
I’ll do anything for Easton to forget about my laughing because he’s going to tell Loki and then Loki’s going to make assumptions about the nerdy guy next door and how he makes me feel.
I bob my head up and down. “Do it. Just don’t let me fall.”
“I promised I wouldn’t,” he reminds me as his hand skates up my arm.
His fingers circle my wrist right above my hammering pulse. He has to know I’m nervous but, thankfully, doesn’t comment. Lifting my arm above my head, he braces his hand on my back and guides me around in a circle. I lean into him, keep my scarred leg straight, and holding my breath, I spin around on my good foot.
When I make a full circle, relief sweeps over me. I clutch one of Luca’s arms and free the air trapped in my chest.
“You good?” Luca asks, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“I-I think so.”
“I’m impressed,” Easton says, clapping his hands. “I didn’t think you’d do it.”
“I kne
w you’d bug the crap out of me until I did.” I feel like I’m going to vomit. Feel like I’m going to cry. Feel so much that I almost fall to the floor.
Luca pulls me against him as I sway dizzily. “You going to make it there?”
I shake my head but then nod, confusing the hell out of him and myself.
“No, you’re not okay,” he says gently. “Anna, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I can’t.” My voice is hoarse.
I try to suck it up, but sadness consumes me. I miss dancing so much. Miss the past. The future I once had. Miss my parents. My family. But most of all, I miss the sunshine and rainbows girl I used to be. The one that could only see the sunshine because she’d never noticed the clouds until they completely covered the sky.
“Sit down and take a break.” Easton rises to his feet and turns off the song.
I wipe my sweaty palms off on the side of my shorts and sit on the edge of the coffee table. I can feel Luca’s and Easton’s eyes on me, but I’m too close to crying to look up.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Just breathe.
“Just breathe. I know it’s hard getting on stage, but you’ll do great,” my mom says as we wait backstage.
Sounds of violins and the light brushes of pointe shoes fill the air. My hair is pulled into such a tight bun my brain hurts. But all I can focus on is how terrified I am to go out there and dance in front of the crowd.
I fold my arm around my stomach and hunch over. “I feel like I’m going to throw up . . . I don’t think I can do this.”
“Stage fright is perfectly normal.” She smoothes her hand down my back. “With time, you’ll get over it.”
I tilt my head and look up at her. “What if I don’t? What if I stay this way and never get over it?”
“As long as you push past the fear and make it up onstage every time, then you’ll be just fine,” she says. “Having a fear doesn’t make someone weak. It’s letting the fear control you.”
I drown in memories and all I can do is remember.
No matter what she did, I really miss her.
I breathe in and out until my heart rate settles then lift my head up and meet Easton’s and Luca’s worried gazes.
“I’m fine,” I assure them. “I just needed a moment.”
Looking worried, Luca opens his mouth. “Are you sure—”
Zhara bursts into the foyer, waving her hands in the air, belting a Christmas carol at the top of her lungs with a bitter looking Alexis stepping in behind her. “Hey, Anna and Luca,” she sings but her skin pales when she sees Easton. “Oh, hi, I um, yeah . . . Oh, my god.” She slaps her hand across her face and sprints up the stairway.
“What was that about?” Easton looks at me with his brows dipped as he unplugs the CD player.
Alexis leans against the doorframe with her arms folded. “She has a crush on you and is totally embarrassed that you saw her acting like herself.”
“Alexis,” I warn, massaging my sore leg muscles. “Stay out of Zhara’s business.”
“I didn’t do anything but tell the truth, which is more than I can say for you.” She stands up straight. “You know, everyone walks around trying to stay out of each other’s business, but all that’s done is let this family fall apart. It’s tragic.” She turns away muttering, “No one even cares about anyone anymore.”
I start to chase after her as Loki and Nikoli walk inside.
“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything,” Loki says, slamming the front door. He has a few presents in his hand and a scarf wrapped around his neck. “You could have at least warned me, Anna.”
“What’re you talking about?” I ask, genuinely perplexed this time.
He drops the presents on the bottom stair before striding into the living room. He blinks in shock at the decorated tree and at the stockings I hung up, but swiftly shakes his head. “You’re really going to pretend that you don’t know.”
“I . . .” I try to think of what on earth he could be referring to, but still draw a blank. “I’m sorry,” is all I can think of to say.
He’s furious, his hands balled into tight fists. “The other night, when you went out, were you at the antique shop?”
My gaze snaps to Luca. “Did you tell someone?”
He shakes his head, his eyes begging me to believe him. “I swear to God I didn’t, Anna. I’d never out you like that.”
“There were security cameras there, Anna,” Loki snaps. “And they captured a pretty fucking clear picture of you, and you know that everyone knows everyone around here.” He wrangles his scarf off then turns to Easton and Luca. “Can you guys give us a second?”
“Sure,” Easton says, looking more than eager to get the hell out of here. “You want me to go get started on that thing?”
Thing?
Loki hesitates then nods. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute to help.”
Luca offers me a sympathetic look. “I actually need to get home.”
Yes, run. Run while you still can.
“I’ll see you later.” He hesitates, glancing at Loki before stepping toward me and leaning in. “Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’ll be okay,” I try to assure him.
“Still, call me so I know for sure if my new best friend has been grounded again,” he says, leaning back. “You seem to have a knack for that.”
“If you’re going to be my friend, you better get used to it.”
“I already am.” A smile graces his lips. “Talk to you in a bit.” He walks out of the room and out the front door.
Once everyone’s cleared out, Loki fixes his attention on me, looking madder than hell. “You’re so goddamn lucky the owner isn’t going to call the police.”
I grind my teeth. “Was the owner a guy?
“Yeah . . .” His forehead creases, but then he shakes his head, his anger shooting up a notch. “That doesn’t even matter. What matters is that you’re out of control and this has to stop.” He paces the floor. “As soon as that bracelet comes off, you’re going to go over and apologize to Dennis. He wouldn’t take any money for the window, but I want you to make it up to him . . . Offer to help him around his store or something.”
“Dennis?” Blood roars in my eardrums.
“Dennis is the owner.” Annoyance simmers in his tone as he grinds to a stop in front of me. “And you better memorize that name because you’re going to be doing a hell of a lot of apologizing to him.”
I pierce my fingernails into the palms of my hands until my flesh splits open. I won’t explode. I won’t explode. “No, I’m not,” I say as calmly as I can.
His face reddens. “Don’t give me any bullshit. You’re going to do this, Anna. I’m not just going to let it go. You need punishments—need to understand that there’s repercussions for the stuff you do.”
“I won’t apologize to that man!” My. Heart. Explodes. Into. A. Thousand. Pieces. “I’ll fucking go to jail before I do!”
He blinks at me in shock. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“You wanted me to feel something. Well, I do! I hate that man!” I fight the tears back and take off for the stairs before he can get another word out.
My instinct is to run out the door, run away, but I can’t because of the ankle bracelet. So I limp up the stairs, moving way too fast, but pigheadedly refuse to slow down. When I make it to my room, I lock the door and crank up my music. “Sugar” by System of a Down comes on, and I pace the room with my hands on my hips.
I want to punch a hole in the wall.
Want to break every single thing in my room.
Want a pill.
Want a drink.
Want. To. Be. Numb. Again.
But I do the only thing I can. I open my mouth and scream at the top of my lungs until I run out of oxygen.
Panting for air, I feel the slightest bit better. I grab my father’s journal from off the shelf and lie down on my bed. My fingers tremble as I open the b
ook and peel off the envelope taped to the inside of the back cover.
I can’t take the unknown anymore.
It’s killing me inside.
I start to open it, but fear soars through me and I wrench my hand away.
No, I can’t do this. I’m too afraid of what I’ll find in there.
I drop the envelope onto the bed and scoot away from it.