Page 27 of One Short Summer

Kiara turns her head to look at me. “Do you want to watch with me?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug, suddenly not sure what to do.

Besides not dancing myself, I haven’t really watched anyone else dance either.

I haven’t been able to.

My heart speeds up.

But these are only kids. That should be safe, right?

I’ve always loved seeing them with their little outfits and the purest form of dancer’s enthusiasm you can find anywhere in the industry. The genuine joy they feel is reflected so clearly on their faces you’d think dancing is their life’s mission—as it might already seems to some of them.

I was one of them.

My chest feels like it’s being poked with little needles, and I resist the urge to rub my hands over it in soothing circles to chase away the unwelcome sensation. Thankfully, more kids file into the room, hopping lightly on their feet and giggling with their friends, weirdly enough distracting me from my inner turmoil.

After what feels like hours, I turn back to Kiara, who has been studying me this whole time, and shrug my shoulders again. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great.” She claps her hands together and gives me a big smile. “You’re always welcome to dance here too when the studio isn’t used, you know? Just let me know and the place is yours.”

Sometimes I forget she knows about what happened to me. Seems like Gabe can be a little Chatty Cathy sometimes.

I swallow past the lump in my throat and put on a smile, hoping it looks better than it feels. “Thanks so much for the offer. I really appreciate it.” I leave it at that and turn back toward the young, excited voices.

Her offer touches me though. Everyone in this town has been really great since we got here, even though I haven’t been out much, besides my yoga sessions. But whenever we go to the store and walk around downtown, we always run into someone Gabe knows, quickly pulled into a random chat.

I’m happy with that though. My days here have been easy and relaxing, usually consisting of yoga, other workouts, eating, watching TV, and talking to Charlie.

And Gabe, of course.

That man has been a constant and steady part of my life over the last year, and for some reason, he’s been on my mind even more since we got here. After all, he’s the reason I’m here, and there’s no denying how good this little getaway has been for me. In fact, more than just good. Somehow invigorating, and rather eye-opening too.

“Oh look! They’re starting.” Kiara touches my arm lightly before waving at some of the girls who have spotted her in the corner with me.

My thoughts forgotten, we watch the girls and boys dance their little hearts out, and I’m happy to see the teacher isn’t too strict. There’s still plenty of giggling, laughter, and praise throughout the whole session. All things that are extremely important in this industry, or anywhere, really. Because who doesn’t want to get the occasional pat on the back? Not to mention that life is better with a lot of laughter, even though I’m the first to admit to not having followed that advice very much lately.

At least I finally see things more clearly, even though it hasn’t been easy to admit my mistakes and faults from this last year. Letting myself go the way I did, letting life slip past me. I’m not proud of any of it, but I’m trying to accept it and move on.

What else am I supposed to do? Continue to drown in the negative feelings isn’t an option anymore. The itch to make things better, to do something, keeps getting harder to ignore every day.

The dance lesson is over before I know it, and my heart does a little extra thump when the little ones run to their moms and dads to leave.

Kiara stands up and extends her hand. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time, letting me have this experience in silence. Taking her hand, I let her pull me up.

She brushes off the bottom of her pants and waves at everyone leaving. “Wasn’t that so much fun? So dang cute. I better get ready for the next class though. Are you gonna stay?”

I laugh at her question. “Definitely not. I don’t think I can handle more than one class a day from you.”

Her shoulders shake when she laughs. “Fair enough. But promise me, you’ll think about my offer, okay? I really meant it.”

“I will, thanks.” My heart thuds, speeding up once more at the sheer thought of taking her up on her offer. Somehow, I manage a smile and a wave as I grab my things, then hightail it out of the studio and back to the house.

* * *

Gabe’s locked away in his writing cave like every day when I get home, so I make myself comfortable on the couch in the living room.

“What are you doing?”

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