Yes, there are people around. But no one pays me any attention.
After a moment, I continue on. My gait is a little faster, my stride stretching. I don’t want to panic. Not yet. And once I round a corner, I’m suddenly able to breathe again.
I shake it off and continue to campus. I walk into the student center and find the spot Willow has holed up in with Amanda and Jess. They’ve got their textbooks and laptops open, notebooks on their laps.
“Hey,” I say, sinking down into the empty chair.
“How was it?” Willow asks.
“How was what?” Amanda scoots toward me. “You holding out on us, Reece?”
I laugh. “Yeah, I guess I am. I have an audition with Crown Point Ballet in two weeks.”
Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. She chucks her notebook to the floor and bolts to her feet. “No fucking way!”
She grabs my hands and pulls me up, hopping around me. “You’re a fucking rockstar!”
“Easy, easy.” I hold on to her forearms, steadying her. “It’s just an audition.”
“Up until recently, you never thought you’d dance again.” She leans in. “It’s a big deal, okay?”
“Let us celebrate with you,” Willow adds. “It’s the least we can do.”
“We will celebrate,” I allow. “At the party.”
Jess perks up. “We’re going?”
We’ve been avoiding parties at the hockey house for the last month. I didn’t ask them to, but they did it out of solidarity. Willow and I weren’t comfortable being around Knox and Greyson. Actually, I’m not quite sure they’ve made up…
“Did you make Knox sleep on the couch?” I ask Willow.
I saw him folding sheets this morning, seeming annoyed.
She smirks. “Yep.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you could make that man do anything he didn’t want to do,” Jess says, awe in her voice.
Willow shrugs. “I told him he could risk it if he trusted me…”
I wince. I see that look in her eye. She was hurt by it, too, as much as she’s putting on a brave face now. “Well, we’ll get plastered and we’ll forget about him,” I advise.
“Perfect solution,” Amanda agrees. “We’re going to need it to drown out Paris and Madison.”
I snort. That’s the fucking truth.
“Hey, what did your mom say about the audition?” That comes from Jess, whose brows are drawing together. She has an over-the-top mother, too. The pinch of concern is warranted.
But it reminds me… “I actually need to break the news to her.” I rise. “I’m going to call her now.”
I step away from them, going to another quiet corner and taking out my phone. When I open her contact information, it shows me all the attempts to reach her that have gone unanswered. And again, I’m reminded that I’m just one of those things that has been left behind.
I dial her number, not hoping for much. I’ll leave a voicemail. One that explains everything, so she can decide. Because I can’t keep putting myself out like this, over and over, for her to ignore me.
Because it hurts. Each call that doesn’t connect with herhurts.
“You’ve reached Leigh Reece,” her recorded message says. “I’m not available at the moment. Please leave a message!”
She doesn’t promise to get back to me, I note. Whose benefit is that for? When calls go unreturned, she can say,I never said I’d call you back, Violet.