Page 129 of Inception

“Let them.” His dimples graced me with their presence as his eyes glided over me, taking in the sights. “I’ve already used up all the restraint I had sixty seconds after you opened the door.”

His confession lit up my insides like a fireworks show.

“Do you think your date would mind if I stole a dance?”

“You know him better than I do.”

He stared ahead as if to ponder the question and then leaned into me again. “I'm pretty sure he would.”

“That's too bad,” I said, disappointed.

“Only for him,” he smiled and then rose from his chair, offering his hand.

40. CENTER STAGE

The soft amethyst lights danced over Trace’s form—playing with the blue in his eyes, the contours of his face—solidifying the fact that he was an angelic being, in every single way. He stood facing me in the middle of the empty dance floor, taking me in as though I were made entirely of magic.

“Can I have this dance?” he asked, pulling me into him until we were standing heart to heart.

I wanted to tell him he could. That he could havethisdance andallthe dances after that, but all I could muster up was a meager nod. He smiled down at me in a tender way and then began moving, swaying us to the sound of the music as the crowd in the room slowly melted away. It was just me and him again—Jemma and Trace. Just the way I liked it.

“I have a secret to tell you,” he announced, his warm breath tickling my ear as I pulled in his spellbinding scent.

“Is it bad?”

“Depends who you ask, I guess.”

“Tell me.”

A bashful look of want swept across his face, endearing and charming all at the same time. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

I stared up at him dumfounded.

“No. That’s not right.” He shook his head. “IknowI am.”

There was a tsunami of emotion washing through me, every wave threatening to pull me under. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. “I-I...”

“You don't have to say anything. I just want you to know how I feel.” He needled me with his eyes again. “No matter what happens, always remember that.”

A heaviness pressed in on me. “Why do I suddenly feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

“I’m not saying goodbye,” he said, though it lacked conviction. “I’ll never say goodbye to you.”

There was a light tap on my shoulder and then a voice. “Mind if I cut in?”

I turned to see Hannah standing behind me with a lopsided grin on her lips. I couldn’t decide whether this was the worst possible timing or the best.

“Oh, um, okay. Yeah. I guess so,” I said reluctantly, stepping back from Trace.

“Jemma.” Trace tried to hold onto my hand.

“Find me later,” I said, pulling my hand free. I needed a minute to get my thoughts together, to process what he had said.

I hurried off to the ladies room, leaving Trace and Hannah behind on the dance-floor.

I hardly recognized the girl reflecting back to me in the mirror. The hair, the makeup, the ball gown; it was all so beautiful, so glamorous, and yet inside I felt the same. Scared. Confused. Unsure of myself and everything around me. I turned on the faucet and cupped my hands under the running water. I wanted to splash my cheeks with it; to drown in it; to wash this foreign girl away from my sight.

If only it were that easy, I thought, letting the water pour out from my hands before turning off the faucet.

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