Page 24 of One Spicy Summer

My life isn’t bad. I have amazing parents. Rafe and Rygaard drive me insane, but I know they love me. Agatha and I have been top students for as long as I can remember, so everything should feel perfect.

But lately? It doesn’t feel perfect.

Finding my footing again, I twist, spin, leap, every motion fluid, every beat matching my heart. This is my dream. Juilliard is the goal. New York. Broadway. I’ve spent years preparing, GPA, audition tape, all of it lined up.

I was ready… until Rygaard.

We’ve been talking about what comes after high school. He’s got a full ride to NYU, but lately, he’s not so sure. It’s a quick flight from here, but still, what if everything changes?

What if we change?

I land perfectly, breathless, my body humming from the inside out.

Clapping breaks through my thoughts. “Bravo! That’s the effort I want to see,” Madame Dupanchane says, her hands firm on my shoulders. “If you dance like that all the time, imagine what you could become.”

She means Juilliard, I know she does.

“Yes, Madame Dupanchane,” I say, my mind already drifting to the studio I’ve dreamt about for years.

“Then always put your best foot forward… literally.” She chuckles at her own joke.

“I won’t let you down.”

She leans in, serious now. “Don’t let yourself down, Presley. Don’t throw away your dream for something or someone that isn’t worthy of it.”

Oof. That hurts.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Class finishes without a hitch, but her words lodge themselves in my head like an arrow.

Back in the car, I crank my playlist, grateful for the drive and the distraction. “Feel (Slowed)” by Beneld starts playing, and it hits different, like it always does.“You really wanna know the way it feels… boy, you make me feel…”

I sing along, heart full and conflicted, thinking about the boy who makes me feel everything and then some.

My hand drifts down my leg as I remember the way Ry made me feel in the tub, his touch, the way he lit me up from the inside out.

He’s fire, and I’m gasoline, and when we come together, we burn.

The phone rings, jarring me from the memory. I swerve, careful not to hit a pothole in Rafe’s car, and jab the answer button on the dash.

“Hello?”

“Bitch! Where are you?” Agatha screeches.

“Jesus, tone it down. Class ran late.”

“Well, get your ass here. The game starts in thirty.”

“Crap. I totally forgot.” Not hard to do with a million thoughts in my head. “I’ll be home in five.”

“Perfect. I’m already here. Your outfit’s ready.”

“Should I be worried?”

“It’s nothing worse than your usual hot-girl gear,” she snickers. “Now hurry.”

Six minutes later, I’m pulling into the driveway, instinctively glancing around for Ry’s car. I know he’s not here, but still, I look.

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