Page 103 of Race to Me

Thankfully, Brett has nailed the dance with Kate.

Foster is doing great too, but he’s insecure. He doesn’t feel like he’s got the moves down. His nerves are making him miss a few steps.

But my only worry right now is the open laptop sitting in front of me which is loading up my final grades for the semester. Our last day of class was yesterday, and I’m not sure how I did with finals. I need to get this out of my head so I can focus on our dance. I still have to swing by Rita’s tonight, and the dance is at seven, so I need to be there at five.

“You know not looking won’t change the outcome, right?” Foster tells me, watering the flowing greenery above the bed.

Kate squeals, clapping her hands. “Yes! I passed.”

“Ugh,” I groan, not wanting to look. “But yay, Kate!”

Foster dips down, stealing the laptop to stop me from torturing myself. He clicks a button, and the color drains from his face. “You failed everything,” he whispers in shock.

“What?” I jump up, ready to smash the computer against the wall. I peek at the screen and a blast of sweet relief travels through me as I see all A’s and one B. I playfully slap Foster’s chest. “You jerk!”

He shrugs. “See? Now that B doesn’t look so bad,” he teases. “Celebration burgers at Jack’s?”

“Yes!” I glance over at Kate. “You and Ryder want to come?”

“No can do. We’re practicing our solo dance in a little bit.” she replies with a grin. Since he couldn’t get the choreographed routine down, Ryder absolutely wanted to do a solo with her. Simple and no fluff. I can’t wait to see them on the stage.

I think that’s what I’m most excited for. The solo. I picked the most perfect song for me and Foster, but I won’t tell him what it is. He’s taught me one of his grandma’s favorite dances, and we’ve practiced without any music on the beach with his headlights illuminating the sand. It’s been beautiful. With only the sounds of the tide and our feet moving the warm sand around as we twirled.

“I need to throw some makeup on before we go,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t. You’re perfect, and I’m starving.”

The wind is picking up outside as we head to eat. Even in Foster’s classic, sturdy car the blows attempt to move us along the parking lot.

“There’s a storm coming,” I say quietly, hoping with everything I won’t be left on that stage alone tonight.

He parks at the restaurant. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Hand in hand, we walk inside Jack’s. The delicious scent of freshly made fries lingers in the air, making my stomach growl. “I’msohungry.” I admit with a laugh.

Walking to the counter, a flash of neon green blurs my vision. Envy.

Like she knows we’re behind her, she whips her head around. “Hey, Ghost.” She smiles at him, ignoring my existence. He treats her with the same respect, ignoring her.

“Order up!” the man behind the counter yells out. Envy turns to grab her food and places a French fry in her mouth, eying me up and down. Then, her eyes soften when she turns back to Foster. “I need to talk to you … alone.”

“You can talk to me right here.” He stands firm.

Envy tosses her hair. “Whatever, I’ll just come by when she’s not home.” She winks, then walks away.Home.

A sick feeling rises in my stomach, “What was that about?”

“Nothing, she’s just a bitch.” He sneers.

“Does she go over there?” My stomach’s not growling out of hunger anymore, but instead it’s churning from anger. “Why did she say home?”

He barely shakes his head, adding quickly, “She’s just trying to upset you. Don’t worry about her.”

We sit and eat, but a terrible feeling lays on my stomach the entire time. “Are we hanging out until the dance?” I wonder, throwing the remainder of my food in the trash.

He shakes his head. “I’ve got some things to do.” He looks nervous as we step outside.

“Okay ...” I frown, walking with him to the parking lot. “Are you going to meet up with her?” I finally ask when I slide into the passenger seat to escape the howling wind.

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