Page 28 of The Breaking Pointe
“Noelle…” she says, preparing me for a boat load of dialect. “Mom, you were the one who said I needed to let loose. Well now I am, but I need you to have my back just this once, okay?I think he’s gonna be different.I hope.”I exhale my
lastwords.
“You have a type, and it’s obvious that I can’t do much about it. I worry about the patterns that come with it,” she says.
“I swear, it’s a coincidence. A very specific, and odd one, but none of it was planned,” I stress.
“Noelle, I believe you. Call me after?” Her voice puddlesinto the sweet, motherly tone that I love.
“I promise. I love you. Kiss Daddy on the cheek for me,” I say, laying back on my pillows.
“Promise you that I will.Bye, hon,” she says before drawing the line silent as she ends the call.
I’m ruling out all the negativity, because that’s not what I believe in. I know that I’m worth enough to make somebody in this world find me and make me their soulmate. I know when that day comes, I won’t expect it.I might not even think that I’m ready, but it won’t matter because they’ll make me feel ready with a simple look. I want to feel that in sync with someone.
The same way my parents have been for almost forty years. Adopting me was the last key to their hopes and dreams. I want to care about something with someone as passionately as they do with me.Someone with goals and needs to fulfill.
Maybe one day I can be one of someone’s needs.
* * *
Standing in the mirror, I press the small plastic tube against my lips, applying my favorite plum-colored tint to them, smacking them together to spread the color.He said to dress casual so I picked what I thought would still be enough to catch his eye without making myself look like too much of a try-hard.
Jean skirt. Brown stockings. Red striped, fluffy sweater, and the chunkiest of my Dr. Martens.
I keep getting that feeling of fear as if he’s never seen me before today.Contrarily, it’s been crossing my mind that seeing each other this many times must mean something. I mean, in what world do you see a person in threes like that?
First the match, which I guess was inevitable, but the club and the grocery store? I’m wondering if I slowly am going crazy, or if I might’ve hallucinated the entire thing.
At first, the defensive girl in me wanted to scold him to a point of no return. My first instinct is always to make a man as intimidated as I possibly can.The other night, I thought I would never see him again, so what harm would a dance do?When he started smiling and wooing me, it was as if it were his job and he had a deadline to meet.The worst part is that it worked.I couldn’t say no to him with the unwarranted kindness and unapologetic flirting. Not only that, but I would be telling the fattest lie if I said I hadn’t thought about him. I did see his text, and I did ignore it—but I did it with the idea that we wouldn’t run into each other that easily.
I hatethethoughtofmebeingsoavailable.
The sky is already cloudy, which lets me know I might get lucky. Rain is good luck in my family. A special kind of ChicagoluckthatIdependonalot,actually.Everytime it rains, I receive good news, one of my peers does, or something even better. It’s also the kind of weather that I was found in, covered in a little basket on my parents’ porch when I was a baby.It sometimes feels like the world is trying to tell me something when it storms.
A part of me is hoping that it does today.I’m beginning to lean more into the idea that Colton might just be trying to be the good guy. I might not have ever heard of him, but that very well could be a good thing.People know me for being Danny’s girl, and even the tabloids have made it clear that that’s all I’m good for.Someone who lives life with more privacy could be refreshing.Everything is almost like
a secret to the world. I don’t want to be on display anymore, except for one person, and one person only. Whoever that ends up being.
I started getting ready earlier than I planned, after Lau- ren’s little furry baby burst into my bedroom, screaming for attention since she had left for work already.He then proceeded to follow me all around the house until now, curious about every little action I make. There aren’t many actions to make, though, seeing as I’ve been dressed and waiting for the past thirty to forty minutes. I’m asking for a lot to expect him to show up on time.
“It’s nine fifty-eight, Chucky,” I say, walking into theliving room to sit beside him in the bay window, giving him a firm pet against his little head. “Just like Daniel. Late. Ten o’clock my ass.”I sigh through my nostrils, flaring them as I glance out the window. I watch as a pristine, black car eases into a spot that’s directly in the path of my staircase. With the windows tinted, it’s impossible to see who it is—
but who cares when the car is that pretty?
I watch as the car shuts off, peering into the window harder as if it will allow me to get a better look.The door slowly opens on the driver’s side, revealing a man with a heavily chiseled face full of thick, neatly shaped and trimmed facial hair. His hair is equally as neat—curly and molded in waves against his head, with one smaller curl left to dangle like he’s some kind of Clark Kent. He’s doing a great job at pulling it off, too.
It’s definitely him. His stature is just as strong willed as it was the other night.
His body follows, standing him straight up, shoulders broad,andthedoorclosesbehindhim.Howevertallhe
is, it’s taller than Daniel.His arms might be just as large, maybe larger. Plastered on his face is this determined look as he marches toward my front door.I stand from myseat, practically throwing myself behind the wall beside the window, hiding the fact that I’ve been waiting and clocking every moment since he got here.It’s like I can feel him getting closer, and now that he’s here, I don’t know if I’m ready at all. I’m the most unprepared I have ever been, and someone needs to tell him I changed my mind as soon as possible.
The doorbell goes off, indicating that I’m out of time to find any reason to back out. Chucky stares out the window, then averts his gaze to me, as if to say I’ve been busted. Licking his little paw, he observes me as I take exactly ten seconds to answer the door while I vigorously toss strands of my hair into the correct places and adjust my skirt until it’s as perfect as I can get it to be.I’m even second-guessing my outfit now, wondering if I went overboard.
My boots thump on the wooden floor, my hands swiping up my small bag as I approach the door, unlock it, and let out a deep breath before I open it completely to find him smack dab in front of me. He looks cuter each time we meet, I think.He could stand here in all his glory all day if he wanted, and I wouldn’t mind watching. But I refuse to tell him that.Also, I don’t think I even paid attention to how tall he was before. He’s alarmingly enormous—well over six foot and abnormally large, but somehow in the most natural way possible. Unlike you know who.
His lips curl into a smile big enough to show just how white and perfect his teeth really are, and I catch a diamond placed on one of his top teeth. It’s so shiny, it’s glistening.
