Page 92 of The Breaking Pointe
I’m not settled when I think about someone as kind and selfless as Colton having to go through all of these changes by himself.He’s made it clear that talking isn’t what he’s good at, but as pitiful as it may sound, I’m okay with waiting. I have a hopefulness within me that he might change his mind when he sees that I come bearing care and a listening ear. Because I want what he wants. I want someone to see me, deeper than the outside shell of who I am.
He brought me a kale salad.The same salad I’ve been obsessing over for weeks now.He didn’t tell me he was going to, and he didn’t warn me, he just did it. He listened, he remembered, and he went out of his way. For me. That’s why the closet was necessary. I had already been aching for us to hook up again, but he sealed the deal by doing that.
To me, little things matter most, and when I look at Colton, I see someone who values the same. He looks beyond fame and wealth and wants morality to prevail in the end, but most of all, true happiness.Whatever potion he exudes is rubbing off on me in ways I can’t fathom.
When we discussed assigning his mom a nurse, I could tell he wanted to blow up several times.One day we visited a home he’d read about while he was considering putting her into a facility, which he already had expressed discernment for.I recommended he stick with his original plan:keeping
her at home. He felt more comfortable with that, and it was obvious. Still, he needed to see every option, and as a result, he threw up ten minutes into the tour of the hospice campus. He made the excuse of feeling sick from lunch, but the truth was written all over his face: losing his mom is tearing away at him and so is thinking about anything revolving around a future without both of his parents.
By day, he smiles as if things are normal and these are everyday occurrences.At night, he spends hours in his art room and sometimes doesn’t even sleep, unless he is dissociating with a boxing glove on.Someone in his past stripped him of his ability to cry and openly feel, and that person seems to be the man who raised him.He won’t say it, but his determination to beat around every topic involving him, the amount of disgust that fills his face when compared to him, and low effort to ever give him credit in his upbringing is all the information I need to know.Now that his mom is settled, for the time being, things have been calm.
I started attending Cole’s freelance fights since we’ve been seeing each other.He’s interesting to me, and watching him is even better, but recently the fights have been more aggressive than past ones. Often after they’re over, he and Trey argue about his behavior or violence in the ring.The violence never leaves the ring, which is a positive thing, but it’s still debilitating to his career, and moreover says a lot about how he’s using it as an outlet. Despite it not hurting his winning streak, it’s frowned upon to not listen to the referee’s calls. One of these matches, he won’t be so lucky. Allthewhile,I’mstillthinkingaboutthestudioand maintaining my somewhat fabricated lifestyle.Only now,
the resources are there and Colton is constantly offering a hand, but I decline every time. He finds ways to butter me up in other ways, which I guess deserves credit.
It’s hard to think about the downsides to having the studio when the little ones make it easy to ignore them. Each day I come in to work with them, they give new meaning to what I do, reminding me that what I do is worth every single speck of time. They’re never not excited to learn and grow when it comes to dancing.It’s exactly the same drive that I had when I was little. Eating, sleeping, and breathing different dance moves every day until I had the guts to create my own routines.
I’ve been teaching them new routines for theirNutcrackerperformance.Starting early is crucial since their tiny at-tention spans only allow them to retain a certain amountof information at a time.Information aside, they’ve been provingmewrongandnailingeverythingI’vegoneover so far,which instills a lot of hope in me.The better theydo, the more of a chance they have at someone seeing their potential at a young age.Something I wanted but wasn’tthat privileged to find. But in New York, the possibilities are endless—so they say.
“Okay, munchkins, enough dancing today.Let’s take a break and get ready for pick up.”I clap my hands, getting all of their attention.
Listening to my directions, they all sit down, some grab- bing their water bottles and others their backpacks in search forsnacks.Igetaheadstartoncleaningup,pickingup some toys from the floor and listening to pieces of the girls’ conversations as I hear the door open. Lifting my head from the toys in my arms, I look up to see familiar, dark features
holding a tray of cookies.
Boosting myself from ground level, I walk over to him. “You’re much earlier than we planned,” I say.
“I had this thought in my head—with Halloween around the corner and all—and my conscience told me to treat you hard-working ladies to some fresh-baked cookies from a bakery nearby,” Colton says, making his voice loud enough for the girls to hear.
“Cookies are perfect,” I say calmly, holding back an intense smile.
“Great.”He smiles, setting them on a small art table beside us.
“Girls, we’re gonna have a snack.Let’s form a line whileI grab napkins!” I alert them all, walking to my office and hurrying to return to find them already lined up.
As the line progresses, Colton’s shyness becomes more apparent in his body language.His arms cross, and he starts to force a nervous smile, stepping to the side as over a dozen little girls whisper about him while waiting for me. Beyond his facial hair, his cheeks become cherry colored.All of which remains stagnant while watching me serve each girl. After a few minutes of being frozen in that position, he finds a different distraction while I send each girl home and collect the rest of the toys and items, staying relatively silent during it all.
Silence and all, he shows legitimate interest. And it makes me feel safer now that I know Daniel is confident enough to waltz in here any time he wants to. All the while, I still can’t tell if Colton has a motive, or if he’s serious about anything between us.This could be a sweet gesture or a bribe.I so badlywantittobethefirstoption.Cursehimforhowsoft
he’s making me.
“There you are. I got lost in the bathrooms. This place is bigger than I thought,” he says.
“It’s expensive, too.”I giggle.“Are you gonna have a cookie?”I ask, waving it around as I look at him from across the room.
“No cookie for me. But the girls seemed to like them,” he says.
“Yeah, I noticed.You wanna tell me why you’re popping up on my littles with cookies now? Cause you’re gonna make them like you more,” I taunt him with my last sentence, watching him walk over to me.
“I don’t think I have the power to do that, sweetheart. Have you seen those little faces? They look at you like you’re their everything.The prize is you, and well, those little ladies are serving some stiff competition for me,” he suggests, shaking his head above me as he steps in front of me.
“You? Competing with a bunch of little girls in tutus?” I raise an eyebrow, poking a finger into his chest.
“When you put it like that, it sounds like I really have no chance.”He chuckles, offering me his first unrestrained smile since he walked in.
My hand falls flat on his chest, rubbing it as I hide my own smile.His hand covers mine, pressing our bodies against each other.
“I came early because I needed to talk to you, actually. I have a question,” he says, his mood slowly altering.
