Page 25 of This Is War: All's Fair Duet
“Rya. Nicely done,” the older woman nods. “But work on that expression. You were frowning the entire time you were dancing. Those lines will become a permanent fixture on that pretty face of yours.” She gives a slight chuckle, then ushers the last group over, her focus no longer on me.
Relieved, I quickly move off to the side to watch. My cheeks are hot, and when I glance at the mirror, it’s no surprise they’re flushed pink. Thank goodness that could simply be passed off as exertion and nothing more.
Hazel quietly snorts as she joins me. Under her breath, she whispers, “I think that was Millie’s version ofdon’t make that face or it’ll stick like that.”
I wrinkle my nose. Just what I want to be known for after one class. I give Hazel a subtle shove, but all she does is grin at me like the goofball she is. While the final group of dancers work their way through the choreography, I glance at the clock on the wall, verifying class is close to over. Thank goodness, because my concentration is shit, but it also means I’m left to contemplate what the rest of my day looks like. The date I agreed to go on with Jaxon. The discussion I desperately need to have withLogan but am sick to my stomach with worry and confusion over. I glance at Hazel. I suppose I owe her an explanation of some sort as well. She may be teasing me now, but she’d been miffed when I hadn’t explained my erratic behavior after returning to our room this morning. I’m not fooled. Her current comedy act is all a front, a cover for some bottled-up irritation that’s all going to be directed at me the moment I give her a chance to let it loose.
“One last announcement.” Millie walks to the center of the group, surveying us as if she’s searching for where the greatest potential lies. It’s discomfiting to say the least. “If it hasn’t already been discussed in your other classes, there will be a spring dance showcase. All styles of dance will be represented.” She surveys each of us with a critical eye. “Auditions are coming up soon. Only a handful from each discipline will be chosen. For ballet, it’s one male, one female, and one paired performance.” My eyes widen. So very limited. Exclusive. My teeth drag roughly over my bottom lip.Nerve-racking.
“When is this, ma’am?” asks Dana, a girl with red hair and pale, freckled skin who was in modern dance with me last semester.
“The auditions will take place next month. The onstage performance is right before spring break at the beginning of March. Your level of study will be taken into account,however those of you in the advanced classes—like this one—are more likely to be chosen. Other questions?”
“Can we audition for more than one discipline?” Joaquin asks. The air of superiority he puts on is kinda ridiculous. It’s a shame he’s completely full of himself, but to be fair, he’s an excellent dancer, especially talented in jazz and lyrical.
“Yes, however, I encourage you to audition for a maximum of two. You won’t want to split your focus too much.”
There’re some head nods and low murmuring that skitters through the class, but that quickly dies down with the stern look Millie levels us with. “Okay then, if there are no other questions, might I suggest you begin preparing your audition piece or pieces posthaste?” She looks around with an arched brow. “Openings for studio practice times are in the hallway outside, posted on the wall. Be sure to sign up for what you need, but no more. No one likes a studio hog.”
Hazel eyes me warily as we head to the locker room a few minutes later. “So, what’s with you? What in thewhere was my roommate all nightis going on?”
I push the door open and stride into the locker room, relieved to find most everyone else is already in the showers or in the process of clearing out. “It’s nothing,” I scoff, keeping my voice low.
“Liar.” That single word shoots from her like a bullet, nailing me right between the eyes.
I meet her gaze briefly, then look away. “Rude. Really, it’s nothing.” I continue to my locker.It’s nothing I want to discuss, anyway. Right now, my mental energy stores are at zero.
“Whatever, Rya. You disappeared yesterday. Then you finally show up, only to disappear again. I texted you over and over, especially when it got late.” She grabs my arm, spinning me around. “You could at least let me know next time if you aren’t going to be back so I can lock the door. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure you had your key.”
I scrub my hand over my face, knowing this isn’t going to sound great. “I was with Jaxon”—I hesitate—“and then Logan.”
Her mouth drops open as her eyes pin on me, wide-eyed. “You dirty girl, you,” she whispers. “Logan and I knocked on Jaxon’s door, you know.” Her brow arches high on her forehead.
Shit.“We weren’t in there.” I shake my head, nudging her shoulder. “And it wasn’t like that.”Um.“Not exactly, anyway,” I mumble, questioning if she’s actually right. “And I fell asleep in Logan’s room. He was already sleeping when I got there.” Better to not mention the wake-up call I’d gotten from his fingers.You’re just a littleslut, all of a sudden, aren’t you?I clamp my teeth together, then suck in some air as she continues to stare.
It’s written all over her face. She’s not going to let this go. I can practically see all the questions rolling around in her head. Finally, her brow arches. “If not like that, then how?”
“Jaxon and I… I kinda like him, I guess. And Logan is my friend. You know that.” I hastily grab my shower caddy and a change of clothes, then brush by her so I can clean up before meeting Jaxon.
“Jaxon is hot and all. I’ll give you that. But the whole ‘Logan is my friend’ line is only going to work for so long. Do you even realize what you could have with him? Howluckyyou are?” Hazel’s exasperated tone carries, and I cringe as I scoot out of the room. I can imagine how her icy-blue eyes bore into the back of my head in an effort to figure me out.
Little does Hazel know, I’ve recently gained unexpected insight into exactly what she’s referring to, and that glimpse of what it would be like to have everything I’ve ever wanted with Logan is enough to make me want to cry. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.
16
JAXON
It’d taken verylittle coercion to get Rya to agree to go out with me tonight. A little surprising, maybe, but it’s whatever, I guess. Not my problem. Maybe she knows she can do better. I have no issues exploiting that train of thought, that’s for fucking sure.
I hike a pair of dark-wash jeans up my legs, then slip a black button-down on as a knock sounds at my door. Frowning, I exit the bathroom and listen, waiting to see if whoever it is will knock again. This RA gig isn’t exactly my dream job, but I figured it would be the least problematic with my baseball schedule. All I have to do is be available in case one of the residents has an issue or if something were to happen. I translate that roughly as:make sure no one dies of alcohol poisoning,andput a stop to any fights or arguments that break out.
Hopefully, whoever is on the other side of my door isn’t drunk or bloodied because another sharp knock sounds, meaning I can’t very well ignore it. This had better not make me late for my date with Rya. My phone’s alarm blares to the tune of Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out,” effectively alerting me that I’ve got five minutes to spare.
“Yo, asshole! Open up,” Azriel barks, his deep voice grating out on the other side of the door. I’d recognize it anywhere, and it’s only a second before he shouts again. “Dickhead, I can hear your phone.” Working my jaw to the side with a roll of my eyes, I twist the knob and yank the door open.
He’s a broody guy, and I can’t quite place the vibe rolling off him in heavy waves. His arms are folded over his broad chest as his strangely colored eyes bore into mine. If I wasn’t used to him and his odd ways, he’d really freak me the fuck out. His affinity for baseball is the only normal thing about him.
I clear my throat. “What?” It’s always best to be blunt with him.
