Page 51 of The Breaking Pointe
“I didn’t dance.I went out with a friend.We got stuck because of the storm, that’s all,” I say, picking out a cappuc- cino cup to make myself a little treat.
“Oh, Lauren? How’s she doing?” Annie asks, smiling. “NotLauren.”Ishakemyhead.“She’sgood,though,”I
add, getting my ingredients together. “Don’ttellmeitwasDaniel,”shesays.
“No—why does everyone keep asking about him?”I ask harshly.
She looks at me, setting her mug down.“I’m sorry, I don’t like him. Last time he came around, he was strikingly rude. Not only to you, but everyone around.”
I look at the cup in my hands, then close my eyes to take a deep breath.“I’m sorry, Annie.No, it wasn’t Daniel.It was a guy, though.”
Her disdain turns into a smile.
“Okay, well let me hear about him,” she says energetically. “I’mnotsurethere’smuchtosay.”Icower,settingmy
cup underneath a dispenser.
“You got stuck in the rain with him, and you have nothing to say?Noelle, I’m not buying that.”She laughs softly.
I press a button, filling my cup, then I turn to face her. “We went on a date. He took me to a museum. When we
left, it started raining, so we landed at his place,” I tell her, grabbing a cleaning rag.
“And then?”she asks, following me.
“And then we ate dinner and had an eventful night, Annie,” I stress.
“Eventful means something else,” she sings.
“This isn’t a win, Annie. I moved too fast. I was supposed to go on a date, and that’s all,” I say, pointing to myself.
“It’s one night. Big woop. You got some, and you should be clapping for yourself. The world won’t end because you had a good night.” She rolls her eyes, walking around me.
I follow her body, watching her.
“Are you listening? I’m testing out dating. Not humping the first man who calls me pretty,” I declare.
“Everyone calls you pretty.He wouldn’t be the first, or the last,” she says with mirthful laughter.
“Iamserious,Annie.IranoutofhiscondolikeIdid
something illegal this morning.What do I do if he tries to call me?” I ask with a straight face.
Her smile fades before she sighs and says, “Okay, well is he a good guy?”
I pull my hair to one side, exhaling. “He wanted to cuddle afterwards.”
Herprevioussmilereturnsasshelaughs.“Andthat doesn’t answer your question?”
I look at my cup which is now filled.
“I’mscaredhe’sgonnaturnouttobelikeDaniel,”I mutter.Annie sets her rag down and gives me her full attention, “He literally sent the sweetest text, and I opened it and stared at it for so long.I left him on read,” I say the last few words quietly, feeling the guilt eat at me physically. “He took you out on a history date, fed you,” she looks around,thenwhispers,“hedidyou,”shethenresumesher
normal volume, “and then wanted you to cuddle.”I lean on the counter, looking at the floor.
“Noelle, most guys can’t even spell the word date if you handed them a dictionary and told them the page number, and you’re questioning his decency?”
Yes.Yes, I am.
