Page 41 of Dare
“Hangon,” he says, dropping my hand and kneeling to scoop up a huge handful of snow.After packing it into a snowball, he turns and chucks it right into Justus’sface, who’s coming up the hill behind us.
Spluttering,Justus wipes his face. “What the hell?”
“That’sone,” Dare says. “Next one is coming when you least expect it.”
Wespend the next couple of hours at Suicide Hill, and I have a great time hangingout with Dare and his friends. I really like Zoe, and it’s fun to watch Justusflirt and try to rile up the others. They tease and taunt each other, but youcan see how close they all are. I’m happy to see Tucker become a part of theirlittle group.
“We’llhave to get together, go to the mall or something,” Zoe says, as we all headback to the cars.
“I’dlove to.”
“I’llcall you and we’ll pick a day!” she calls, climbing in Landon’s car.
“Soundsgood!”
Justusrides home with one of the other guys, so Dare and I are left alone in his car.“What’s this dance competition you were talking about with Zoe?”
Irub my pink hands together in front of the heat vent. “It’s a pretty big dealin the dance world. Nationally ranked dancers will be there, and one of thestudent’s I’ve been teaching is competing.”
“Whenis it?”
“Youwant to go?” I ask, surprised.
“Wouldyou rather I didn’t?”
“No,I just…you don’t seem like the type to like dance.” A smile creases my facewhen I think of leading this huge tattooed man in to watch ballet.
Hisfingers slide between mine, and our hands rest on my thigh. “I like you.”
ChapterTen
Ayda
Darewas disappointed when I told him I was going home for Christmas, and I know hewas waiting on me to invite him, but there’s no way I’d subject him to mymother. With a kiss and a promise to call, I left early Christmas Eve.
Dreadsettles in the pit of my stomach as I start to pass the familiar landmarks ofmy childhood. It’s not that my hometown of Lind, Ohio is terrible, it’s atypical middle sized Midwestern city, but the memories these streets bring backtear open wounds I thought were long healed.
Mygaze soaks it up, taking in the small changes since I left. The small, familyrun café on the corner of Main Street is now a children’s thrift store, one ofthe gas stations is closed down, another has been converted to a coffee shop.It’s just past eight p.m. and most of the stores and businesses are turning outtheir lights and locking their doors.
TheBeauty of Dance Academy is still illuminated, the bright light pouring throughthe large plate glass windows. My car seems to park itself in front of theschool. I haven’t been through those doors since I was attacked, but I feeldrawn to the place now.
LenaSanger was my ballet teacher from the time I started at age nine until the dayit was all taken from me. She was so much more than a teacher to me, and I feelguilty for not staying in touch. When my mother—or rather her husband—decidedmy dance lessons were a waste of money and refused to pay, she let me continueanyway, completely free.
Infact, she used her own money to make sure I had the costumes and gear I neededto compete, and took me to the competitions. She was the only one I hadcheering me on. The last time I saw her was when she visited me in the burnunit of the hospital, and I was less than thrilled to see her. I didn’t want tosee anyone, didn’t want to hear them tell me everything would be okay, when Iknew nothing would ever be the same again.
Thelast students filter out the door, and I get out of the car before I can changemy mind. The tiny bell on the door tinkles as I walk through, and Lena comesout of the dressing room to see who has entered. Her eyes nearly fall out ofher head. “Ayda?”
Shehasn’t changed much. Lena was always a tiny woman, thin and petite like me,with a voice that could make a grown man stare at his toes while she chewed himout. Her hair has a bit more gray, and there are a few more lines on her face,but other than that, it’s like I stepped back in time. I feel like a teenageragain as I give an awkward wave. “Hi.”
Asmile breaks across her face and she wraps her arms around me, hugging me hard.“It’s so good to see you! How are you? I just asked your mom about you lastweek when I saw her in the bank.”
Steppingback, I swallow the lump in my throat. I didn’t realize how much I missed thiswoman until now. “I’m good. Really good. I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch, andI’m sorry for how I acted when you came to visit me.”
Sheshakes her head. “Oh, honey, I never held that against you. It was a terribletime and you had to deal with it in your own way.”
Igesture to the new coffee shop across the street. “Have a cup of coffee withme?”
“Ofcourse! Just let me lock up.”
