Page 98 of The Breaking Pointe
She shakes her head and takes a finger to my glasses. “No contacts? Going Buddy Holly tonight?”
My cheeks feel steamed and hot.
“Charming, but clumsy.I dropped one of my contact lenses down the sink.”
She frowns dramatically. “Oh, honey. I want to feel bad, but you look so good I can’t bring myself to.You should wear them more often,” she says, bringing her face closer to mine.
My entire face is steaming now. Here I am, doing my best toneverhavetowearthesethingsagain,andshe’drather
seemeasClarkKent.That’safirst,Ithink.
Dropping my head, I remember what we’re supposed to be doing and change the topic.
“We should get going. Last thing I need to do is be late and piss off Trey even more. I’m already worked up,” I quietly inform her.
“Don’t be. The world is in your hands, tonight.”She kisses my cheek softly before turning to walk to the door.“Let’s go.”
It’s so easy for her to believe in me.I bet she’s just as nervous, but I admire her perseverance more than anything. It’s unmatched.
It’smakingmefallforherlikequicksand.
I don’t like the feeling of falling, but with her, I don’t mind. When we’re together, nothing feels better than those moments.She’s not scared of whatever is coming next or having nothing at all. I coincide with those morals, but she highlights them in a way that makes the smaller things seem that much bigger.
Having her come with me to the dinner has been one of my better decisions in recent times. I like having someone on my arm that doesn’t make me feel like a monster. Even though I might be to some, she finds a way to justify it all for me. All while also holding me accountable. I wish I could say I didn’t need that, but I do—and not from my mother. Had I made myself accountable for things sooner, I probably wouldn’t be struggling to fix myself now.
Her golden retriever ways make me feel more approach- able.While entering the dinner, it’s obvious—I’m scary, and she’s not.
I’mapproachedwithrough,hardhandshakes,whileshe
receives delicate hugs and compliments on the way to our table.It honestly saved me.By being distracted by my date, I avoid the sudden questioning of my career and recent breakdowns on stage.Instead, I can’t take my attention away from the eye-sore sitting at the table next to ours. Daniel and his team, full of posers, as I predicted—all dressed as if it’s a casino night.It’s impeccable how he manages to not be embarrassed of himself.
By the time we get to our table, he is already sizing up Noelle and grating on me with his deranged, high stare.I wouldn’t be shocked if he was on multiple substances as we speak.He doesn’t seem to care about the whole image thing the way that I do. He doesn’t seem to care much about anything—based on how we’ve been making side eyes at each other, every few minutes. But it isn’t just me. Noelle is too in a different way.
She’s behaving abnormally, restlessly moving about in her seat. She’s bothered more than I am, if it wasn’t already obvious.“Hey, Noelle.There are a few people that might wanna meet with your boy after this. You got him this tame, so maybe you could make him less of a hermit,” Trey says to us from across the table, chuckling at his jab at me.
“So I’m a little reserved—sue me.I’m feeling the place out.Feeling out energies,” I say, gazing in Daniel’s direction briefly.
Noelle rubs my arm, dragging her chair closer to mine. “I like hermits,” she says confidently, quickly subduing her happiness as she looks in the same direction as me.
Feeling her stare, I turn to face her. “Ignore him,” I state. “It’s hard.I didn’t think being around him would make me feel this weak.I feel confused,” she responds, seemingly
hiding behind my figure.
I sit up straight, blocking his view of her.“Look at me, Noelle.” She does so, giving me an unsure expression.
“Nothing, and nobody, can hurt you. I got you. That’s a promise.” I rest a hand on her leg.
“Okay,”shewhispers.
I take both of our tall, thin glasses and hold hers out for her. “Here. Drink some champagne. It’ll make you feel all loosey goosey.” I half-smile, wrapping an arm around her as the room fills with clapping, greeting the main speaker on the stage.
She carefully takes it, leaning into my body to get ready to listen.
* * *
The rest of the night continues to prove me wrong.I’m able to find a comfortable middle ground where speaking to others doesn’t feel like such a chore and taking pictures feels nice, rather than something I need to control.
The better part of the night was being able to impress each person that Trey wanted me to make small talk with. I’m not that bad at that.It’s public speaking that makes me sick.I’ve never been good at that. But I would never let anyone know. As far as my team knows, I can give a damn good speech if need be. I embellish—which is far from good. I’m banking on the time I have to rehearse for this cereal commercial to make me ready.
