Page 18 of A Sky Full Of Stars

And it’s all my fault.

I have a gift, I know that. I’ve always been top of my ballet class…but I messed up that audition. The pressure got to me, and now, I’m paying for it. There’s no one to blame but myself.

The only thing keeping me from falling apart is Thomas—and he doesn’t even know it.

Aweek passes, and while the pain of losing the future I always wanted is still raw, I’ve come to terms with it. Or,at least, I’m getting closer. And today I have something else to focus on.

“Happy Birthday, Little Duck,” Luke says as he hands me an unwrapped box.

“Little Duck?” I ask, my brow raised in annoyance. His nicknames are getting worse, but I can’t remember a time when he’s repeated one, so it makes sense that he’d be running out of ideas.

“I said what I said.” He shrugs before walking away, not even waiting for me to open my present. And when I peer inside, I know why.

“Luuuke!” I yell, dropping the box to the floor. “That’s not funny.”

Okay, it’s a little funny, but I’m not going to give him that satisfaction. In place of my birthday present, which I thought was going to be a new woven sun hat, he’s given me a Heartwood U football cap with his name written in thick black marker across the back.

He laughs on his way up the stairs as my mom walks out of the kitchen. “Love you, Small Bear.”

“Yeah. You’re lucky I love you too.”

“We’re leaving for lunch in twenty minutes,” Mom reminds us both, like we could possibly forget when she’s mentioned it at least ten times. Heaven forbid I get to set my own schedule for my sweet sixteen.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you this,” she adds, stepping closer when Luke’s out of sight, “but your gran’s flying in to join us today. I grabbed your blue dress down from the attic; it’s on your bed.”

“My blue dress? The one I wore” —and hated—“at the awards?”

“That’s the one. We’re going somewhere fancy.”Ugh. I’d prefer we ate at the local diner.

I open my mouth to argue, but the sweet smile on my mother’s face stops me. She’s trying to do something nice for my birthday. It’s not her fault I never told her I hated it. “Okay, Mom. Thank you.”

I pass Luke on the steps as he’s coming back down, and I groan to myself. He’s wearing faded jeans with a hole in the knee and a San Francisco Storm football hoodie. Nothing even close to the dress code I’ve been assigned.

“You’re coming to lunch, yeah?” I ask with a frown.

Luke smiles, completely oblivious as to why I’m asking. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Pixie.”

He keeps moving, so I wait until he’s on the bottom step before responding. “Good, because Gran’s coming,” I say, having the last laugh.

“What?” He spins around so fast he almost falls. “Goddammit.”

“What happened?” Mom asks, once again coming into the hall, undoubtedly rushing around to make sure the house is perfect for Gran.

“Nothing, I just tripped,” Luke lies, giving me the evil eye.

We all love Gran, but she can be overbearing and opinionated, and she doesn’t understand football. Or the hype. She’s constantly telling Luke he needs to focus on another career…like accounting or property development. Both things he would completely suck at.

I give him a little wave before heading into my bedroom, my smile dropping the second I spot the dress. It really is beautiful. The color complements my complexion, and it works with my hair and my eyes. It’s perfect. As though it was made for me. Because it was. Gran flew some big-name New York designerover here to create it. She said I needed something special for the awards. And I loved it at the time. Until I realized how stupid I’d been. It was because of this dress I discovered how wealthy my gran was, and it was because of this dress that I decided to ask her—no, beg her—to pay for my tuition at San Francisco Ballet School, only to be told she’d gladly help me out financially…when I went to New York. Not if,when.

My gran’s support came with terms and conditions. All my life she’d been grooming me to be a ballerina, but it wasn’t until then that I realized her support was limited.

An hour later, I’m looking the part of the dutiful granddaughter as I elegantly eat my meal, trying not to get involved as my gran grills my big brother about his future, questioning if that “football nonsense” is still his plan. A verbal tennis match ensues between them, and when they’re done, Gran smiles before her attention moves to me.

“I’m sorry to hear about San Francisco,” she says with a frown as Luke offers me a sympathetic smile. He did all he could to keep the focus on him, but as always, it shifted. “I know you had your heart set on attending; it must have hurt a little.”

“Thanks, Gran.” I try not to stare at her in shock, wondering if I heard her correctly. “It’s a great school and—”

“And now you’ll get to go to an even better one. There’s nothing standing in your way anymore.”

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