Page 96 of Dance with Me on New Year's Eve

“Sorry to make you wait,” I said with a faux cheerful tone that wasn’t going to fool anyone. “How are you doing?”

“We’re worried about you,” Hazel said plainly. “Obviously.”

“Oh, me?” I forced a laugh. “I’m fine. I was slacking a bit on cleaning, but you know, um, I was getting ready to start before I heard you knocking.”

Hazel narrowed her eyes. “Right. Just slacking a bit.”

“I’m not the best when it comes to cleaning.”

“Or showering?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

My jaw clenched as I tried to think of how to respond to her bluntness. “It’s nothing.”

The long silence was tense as I tried to breathe in and out normally.

“Roxy, you haven’t been taking care of yourself. Your phone has been off all week. We’re here because we care about you,” Mari said firmly.

I exhaled slowly. “I just—it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“We’ve all been there, Rox,” Hazel said, gentler this time. “Everyone has had rough weeks. Or terrible ones. You’re not alone.”

I swallowed with some effort. “I know.”

“Do you?”

Nodding slowly, I replied, “I guess in theory.” I let out a long exhale. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I wasn’t fine, like I told you earlier this week. Or was it last week? I can’t even keep track.”

“Oh, we knew you weren’t fine,” Hazel said.

My eyebrows rose. “You did? How?”

“Maybe you’re not as good an actor as you think,” Hazel said, and then she bit her lip. “That was blunt, sorry.” She proceeded to clear some of the clutter from my dining table and chairs before ushering us over to sit down. Mortification sunk in again as I realized the couch was probably too messy—too far gone, just like I was.

“The point is,” Mari added, “you don’t need to act at all. You can just be yourself.”

I scoffed and then laughed weakly.

“I say this from experience,” Mari said quietly. “The idea seemed so crazy to me at first too. Why would anyone want to know the real me? The real Mariana was a poor, heartbroken little girl who lived in squalor and was ridiculed for her poverty, who lost her father and then struggled through foster care, who stupidly gave her heart to a boy who didn’t seem to deserve it.Who in their right mind would wantthat?”

I blinked several times, trying to process this. “Mariana, I knew you had a hard childhood, but I never knew about all of that. What incredible strength and—andbraveryyou have had.” I felt my eyes start to sting, threatening tears.

Hazel looked at Mariana for a moment and then turned to me. “Listen to me, Roxy. You have to believe me, all right?” I stared at her blankly. “You promise?”

“Fine,” I mumbled.

She took my hand. “You have that too. The strength. The courage. It’s there inside you.”

“Probably more than me,” Mari admitted with a soft smile. “You just don’t know it.”

My eyes searched the floor. “If you really knew me …”

“We do know you, Roxy. We know you’re an amazing person who battles some difficult things, and yet you get up and try again every day. You never give up.”

“Isn’t avoidance, like running away from parties, a means of giving up?” I asked.

Hazel shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think it’s a means of coping and self-preservation. And what’s more important than that? Not much. Despite what society would have us believe.”

I started shaking my head but then nodded. “I would argue with you, but … it’s exactly what I used to tell my clients. I know, intellectually, that you’re right.”

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