Page 50 of If Ever

12

New York City

"Fess up. What's going on? You're constantly distracted," Paige demands from her spot on my dressing room couch where she's opening our Thai takeout.

"You can tell?" I ask.

"Even I can tell," Max, my onstage brother boasts. You've been breaking your iron cast routine, dude. Is the world coming to an end? What's up?"

"Everything is off the charts fine, and not fine at all." I pace my dressing room.

Max and Paige share a confused glance. "You want to tell us what's going on? Because you're acting odd, even for you." She leans back crossing her arms, waiting for an answer while Max digs into his noodles.

"Remember when I went to L.A. last week for Celebrity Dance Off?"

"Of course. What happened?" Max looks up.

"It's more of a who happened." Paige smiles like a cat flicking its tail with satisfaction. "Go on."

I grip the back of a chair, so many emotions roll through me. "It's... just... there was this girl."

"It's always about a woman." Max waves his fork in the air as he speaks.

"It's because of her that I was in L.A. Chelsea picked a song I did years ago and wanted it for a special dance."

"So, she's a fangirl," Paige says in a condescending, sing song way.

"You mean stalker?" Max adds.

"No!" I snap at both of them. "She's this unpretentious force of nature who is the only non-celeb on the show. I've been watching her all season, so it was wild when I got the call to come to L.A."

"You've been watching a dance show?" Max asks through a mouthful of noodles.

"Paige got me started. I thought everyone in the cast watched."

"Hello. Monday Night Football! Which you should be watching, but no, you British sots only watch soccer."

"Ignore him. What happened?" Paige interrupts.

"I fly to L.A. and in rehearsal this girl starts telling me I'm singing the song wrong."

Paige snorts on her Pad Thai.

"I know, right?" I laugh at the memory. "Chelsea's lecturing me with vocal instruction when she clearly hasn't sung anything since her grade school holiday pageant."

I picture her in her coral tank and little black dance shorts, wringing her hands, and her brow furrowed with worry that I won't get the song right. "Except that she was spot on. And then the night of the performance, they play this video package, you saw it Paige, where she shares these dark moments from when she was a kid and lost her mom, then was abandoned by her father."

"It was heartbreaking," Paige says.

I nod and continue. "This girl, with no real stage experience, gets out there and dances, revealing her soul to the world. At the end she was so emotional she could barely hold herself together." I don't mention that I'd wanted to jump from my piano bench and cradle her in my arms afterward.

Max shakes his head. "Bro, you have it bad."

I pace the small space in front of them.

"I went to the after party and spent some time with her. She's smart. Funny, and beautiful too."

Paige leans against the cushions and puts her feet on the coffee table. "And you're falling for her."

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