Page 75 of Race to Me

I know it’s fast. It must be lust ... not love.

But I don’t care.

I want to drown in everything he is.

Twenty-nine

Friday.

It’s the last day of Accounting, and tomorrow will be the last time I step foot on the field.

It’s bittersweet, really, but I didn’t enjoy cheering.

“Are you trying to burn a hole through it?” Foster asks, eyeing me curiously with a grin.

“I don’t want to wear it.” I groan, holding up my uniform.

He shrugs. “Then don’t.”

I hop onto the bed and plant a sweet kiss on his full lips. “It’s Friday, so I have to.”

Foster’s fingers run through my hair. “What are they going to do? Kick you off the team?”

“Good point.” I say with a smile.

∞∞∞

I really can’t believe how quickly this week has flown by. I guess it’s the frenzy of preparing for my dramatic change of classes. Well, just no more Accounting.

I step into Mrs. Park’s classroom, and she sends me a funny look when I take my seat.

Luckily, she doesn’t hand out a test. Instead, we quietly study our books until the bell rings. I focus primarily on doodling my name next to Foster’s.

“Skyler,” She gestures to her desk when everyone rushes out of the room at the chime of the bell.

I approach her with a smile, not wanting to make the last day of her class awkward. I truly like her, and if she taught another class, I would have signed up for it, but I can’t stay on the path my parents laid for me. “Hey, Mrs. Parks.”

“I couldn’t help but notice your lack of uniform. You quit Accounting and Cheer?”

I nod. “Yeah, I just didn’t care for the whole organized structure of it all.” I’m surprised by the honesty that spews from my lips.

She digs in her purse, pulling out a business card. “If you’re ever interested in dancing again, I own a studio over in Liberty. Swing by sometime.”

My eyes roam over the rectangular paper. It’s pink with a cursive ‘Grace Studios’ embellished the front. I inwardly groan, unsure what to tell her. I mean, would that be something I would enjoy? I love dancing, but I loathe cheerleading.

But Liberty is not a good part of town. I was never allowed there.

But I’m allowed anywhere I want now.

I’m torn trying to find myself. Every single day it’s something new.

Who am I?

What do you like, Sky?

Who are you, Sky?

“It’s no pressure, Skyler, but if you ever miss dancing, come over.” Mrs. Parks suggests. The subtle tilt in her smile tells me she knows I was contemplating it when I zoned out.

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