Page 49 of The Way We Dance

"Oh, do you two not get along?"

Fuck, our relationship was complicated. It wasn't about us not getting along, it was about us living in different worlds.

"We get along great." It wasn't a lie because we did get along great when shit was good. "We had a blast all summer and I don't want him to leave, but he likes to distract me from football."

"Do you think that is why you are struggling to focus?"

"Fuck yeah," I admitted. "I spend more time worried about him than I do worried about what foot I’m pushing off of."

"That's rough," she turned to gather her bag and I could see the pity she had for me on her face.

I didn't want her to think it was that big of an issue so I countered one more time before ending the conversation. "He is my best friend. I would do anything for him, so I guess it makes sense that I worry about him. He’s the only family I have and we have each other's back. I am just too tired to worry about him tonight, that’s all."

Did I say too much? Was I convincing?

I had finished the words and unlocked the door, taking a peak out before declaring it all clear. Giselle followed me and locked up before heading toward the park across the street. It was a given that I was walking her home now. She didn't ask, I didn't offer, we just knew that was how this went.

We both walked fairly silent but I had taken her hand without thinking and intertwined our fingers. Her small smile was the only approval she gave me, that holding her hand was ok.

There was no intention on my part to romanticize what we did together. Holding her hand was something I did before I ever had my dick inside of her and I saw no reason to change that. More than anything, I wanted her to feel safe and keeping my hold on her made me feel like I was doing just that.

Halfway there, Giselle squeezed my hand and looked up, a soft smile on her face. "I don't have any siblings. I bet it is fun."

"Only child?"

"Yep." The word yep sounded foreign on her lips, it was too slang for Miss Priss. I don't even think she realized I noticed those types of things.

"Parents?"

"Mom. She got pregnant with me while dancing in Russia and never even told my father I existed. By the time I was born, she had left Russia."

"She’s a dancer?"

"You didn't know?"

"Seriously, Giselle, why would I know that?"

"My mother is GalenaMetrovik. The ultimate prima ballerina. My grandparents helped raise me until I was nine, but then they passed away close together and it was just her and I. She taught me everything I know. About dancing, presenting myself, and holding myself up."

That explained a lot. It told me exactly why she was so prim and proper. I nodded at myself, at my own realization that I had been right. She was born and bred on the other side of the tracks than I was. She may not have had a father but she had someone that cared about her well-being and presentation on the world.

I gave her a hard time for being uptight, prim, and proper, but I guess she was just lucky to have someone that cared enough about her to teach her anything. The only thing my parents had taught me was how to disappear.

"She must love that you teach ballet."

"She would love it more if I had never left the stage. But I just needed to separate myself for a while. I was struggling."

Giselle bit her lip after her last word, almost as if she had said too much. I instinctively knew she didn't want me or anyone else to know she was struggling. She definitely didn't want me to know why. And since I had just battled the same thing inside of my own head, I didn't push or ask anymore questions.

Instead, I shook her hand and changed the subject. "Looking forward to the game Sunday?"

She groaned and looked to the sky, "I almost blissfully forgot about that."

"You know you're excited."

She looked back to me and smiled. "I am looking forward to spending time with Sam."

"Oh shit," I snapped the fingers that weren't intertwined with hers and reached for my phone in my pocket. "Give me your number in case you have any issues."