"Sandra Dee? Really?" I glared at Kingsley.
"She was very ... virginal. You remind me of her. Well, up until she went all boy crazy over Moondoggie."
I threw the same hanger back at her, hitting the side of her arm. While I waited for Kingsley to finish getting ready for class, I scrolled through my phone, looking for any signs of a missed text from Samson. None.
Kingsley and I walked into the hallway, grabbing the open elevator just before it closed.
"Aren't you going to tell me about your night?" Kingsley asked.
I shushed her, wanting to wait until we were alone. She rolled her eyes in response. Before we even noticed the elevator stopping on the twenty-first floor, the doors opened, and in walked Samson. He looked much more put together than he did yesterday. His hair was impeccable, brushed smoothly on each side. I didn't understand why he took any time doing his hair each morning when we'd be endlessly sweating in class anyway.
I'd never seen anyone look as good in a Smiths T-shirt as he did. It was nice seeing Samson out of his immaculate wardrobe and in something more freeing. Without his usual tie, he looked like an actual eighteen-year-old. When he saw that Kingsley and I were standing in the elevator, he smiled.
"Good morning," he said as his hand touched my lower back. He ignored Kingsley.
She grunted. "What a shame, Natalia. Now you can't tell me about the hot sex you had over the summer."
I glared at her and then turned and smiled at Samson, hoping he didn't believe a word she said.
"It's okay, I know she's lying. I can't imagine her ever being truthful."
I cut in before the conversation got worse. "Both of you, stop." I fixed my stare on each of them, hoping they'd understand I was sick of their constant bickering.
"How was the rest of your night?" Samson whispered.
"It was fine. Just caught up on some studying and talked to my mom. That's always a good time," I said sarcastically. "What about yours?"
Kingsley interrupted our conversation by clearing her throat.
As soon as the elevator arrived on sixteenth-floor, she shot off like a rocketship, rushing ahead of us. I ignored her bad manners and laughed.
"So, how was your night?" I repeated my question.
"It was ... interesting," he answered obscurely. "Aubrey showed up."
I stopped walking. He was about to tell me they were back together and that the entire day we spent together meant nothing. Samson turned around when he noticed I wasn't by his side.
"That's why you didn't answer," I speculated.
"There's a lot running through my mind right now. We're already running late. Let's get to class and we can talk later."
Samson took my hand and lightly rubbed the inside of my wrist. I imagined Samson with Aubrey, lying on his bed, laughing. It hurt me to think of them together.
"Can you just tell me now?" I couldn't handle waiting the entire class to find out what happened between them.
"Natalia, I'm not back together with Aubrey, if that's what you're getting at. I'd just like to talk to you and explain what I'm feeling. Can we please just go to class and talk about this later?" His tone was assertive, not leaving much room for a rebuttal.
I dodged his stance, walking around him to the doors of the classroom. If he wanted to have a chat later, that was fine, but for now, I didn't want to talk to him. I heard Samson calling after me, but I ignored him and continued walking. Madame Dampier was standing at the front of the room, talking with another student as I entered. I found Kingsley and stood next to her. When she saw the look on my face, she gave me her full attention.
"What's wrong?"
Her concern surprised me. "Samson."
My one word answer satisfied her curiosity. He walked to the front of the room, looking back at me to study my face.
Madame Dampier shut the door and asked for participation from two students. Samson swiftly raised his hand, Madame Dampier nodding in his direction. She chose a girl who I'd noticed last week. Her jet-black hair was pulled into a neat bun on top of her head. She was shorter than me, and her black leotard looked gorgeous against her hazelnut-colored skin. Her black pointe shoes gracefully moved across the floor. Samson looked over at her and smiled. I couldn't figure out what type of smile he gave her. Was it a nice-to-meet you smile? Was it a flirty smile? Oh, geez. I shouldn't care what kind of smile it is.
Madame Dampier directed the girl and Samson to stand in the center of the room, while the other students remained in back. The girl stood there with her feet in first position. Her posture was beautifully poised, and I was jealous the moment Samson's arm wrapped around her waist.
"Samson and Avery, I'm very happy you two participated." Madame Dampier gave them a tight-lipped smile and turned her attention to the class. "Samson is an excellent partner and I'd like the men in this room to study his strength. As for the girls, watch Avery. See how trusting she is with her body." She turned back to them. "I'm going to assume you two know the basics of the Pas de Deux routine from The Nutcracker?"
They nodded their heads in unison. I know that dance too, Avery, and I'm probably better at it than you.
"Samson, please show us the first thing you should do in this dance," she requested.
"I would offer Avery my hand." Samson reached his right hand out to take hers and Avery stepped forward with her left foot, giving Samson her left hand. "Now her arm will extend and remain at chest level." While standing on pointe, Avery's arm extended, illustrating beautiful lines. "Once she reaches full extension, I step into her and rotate our hands around her head," Samson slowly spun Avery around, interpreting the move perfectly. "Her hand will now come down onto the top of my shoulder, and my left arm will stretch up and out to the side."
Avery's leg lifts were excellent, making me doubt my own talent. They looked great together, and I hoped Samson wasn't wishing he had her as a partner instead.
"Perfection." Madame Dampier ordered the class to practice what was demonstrated with their own partners.
When Samson walked to the back of the room, I exhaled, trying my best to remain professional while here.
"How'd I do?" he asked lightheartedly.
"Let's just get this over with." I stood in front of him, my feet in position. When his arm reached out for my hand, I wanted to swat it away, but knew the teacher's eyes were roaming the room. I am a skilled ballet dancer. I don't let anything hold me back, I silently repeated to myself. Our hands joined and I felt the sudden familiar heat rise in my body.
"Natalia, I don't know what you're mad about. I'm sure whatever you've imagined is wrong." We continued on with the Pas de Deux, repeating the steps each time.
"Whatever happened is none of my business." He twirled me around. "I hope you two had a good night together."
Before I had the chance to mount my hand on his shoulder, he dropped his position and pulled me into this chest.
"Stop it." Irritation showed on his face. "You automatically think the worst before I have a chance to explain. Is it because you don't want to know the truth?"
"It's because you don't tell the truth!" We were the only two not dancing in the class, and I was sure Madame Dampier would be outraged if she spotted us. "Can we please just continue this simple routine? I'd rather not get in trouble," I insisted.
"This is ridiculous," Samson gently pushed me away, shaking his head. "I don't need this." He began walking away, but I stopped him.
"Don't make a scene," I demanded.
"You care so much about what everyone thinks, don't you? Could you ever be happy knowing that people weren't happy with you?"
With Samson's accurate analysis, I let him go.
He walked to the front of the class, whispering something to Madame Dampier, before grabbing his gym bag and leaving the room. I looked over at Kingsley, her face filled with confusion. I acknowledged by lifting my shoulders. A deep-rooted pang grasped my stomach. Maybe I was being too dramatic. Like Samson said, I didn't even allow him to
explain. I was used to being played, and Samson might have been different, but I was too stubborn to believe it.
I might have just ruined our chances.
"Why won't you answer my calls?"
"Please don't ignore me, Samson."
"We need to talk."
"I'm sorry."
Those were just four of the texts Natalia had sent me in the span of two days. I faked my own sickness to avoid her and opted not go wherever I thought she would be. It was probably childish of me, but it wasn't just her reaction about Aubrey that set me off. She had assumed everything I had said to her was a lie. Since I'd been misjudged my entire life, the irritation ran deep. Every text Natalia sent, I ignored, until she sent one that couldn't go unanswered.
Natalia picked up on the first ring. "Samson, I've been trying to get in touch with you. Madame Dampier is freaking out, she–"
I cut Natalia off, needing to explain the thoughts that were racing through my mind. "I don't regret it," I simply stated.
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"Your last text message, asking if I regretted the time we've spent together. I don't regret it. Your reaction the other day pissed me off, but that doesn't mean I'd take everything back."
"Can we please talk about this in person? I'll come to you, wherever you are," Natalia pleaded.
"Just give me some time, Natalia. I'm calling you because I didn't want you to overanalyze my feelings anymore. I gotta go." I started to hang up, but heard her start to speak.
"I'm sorry, Samson. I really am."
"I'll be in class tomorrow." I hung up the phone and tossed it across the room. Five minutes later, I heard it vibrating again. Rolling out of bed, I picked it up from the ground and saw that Aubrey was calling. My anger grew the longer I looked at her face on the screen. I didn't want to talk to Aubrey. What else did we have to say to each other? My anger burst and I threw the phone even harder this time, hearing pieces of it break against the wall. I didn't care if it stopped working.
The blissful feeling I got from knowing I wouldn't be bothered by calls or texts only lasted for a few minutes. My mother tended to check in every few days. In the morning, I planned to pick up a new phone. If I had it my way, I would never own a cell phone again. It was nice to not be reached anytime someone wanted to talk to you. It felt liberating.
Myers had stopped in the room once in the past few days to change his clothes. He greeted me as if it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. I had no clue where he went every night, but the possibilities creeped me out. I once read an article about a teenager who had just moved into the dorms. His roommate seemed completely normal, offering to help the guy hang up his posters. Come to find out, the roommate was a total psychopath and ended up gutting him the very first night. I showed my mother the story, trying to convince her to let me move into my own place, but she wouldn't budge.
I could only order so much pizza and Chinese food before I felt like puking, so I decided to venture out in public. I chose to eat at Salumeria Rosi, thinking that it would be the safest place to go and not run into Natalia.
I was wrong.
"Samson, back so soon?" Cesar strolled over to me and shook my hand. "Your pretty girlfriend is already here. You should never make such a beautiful girl wait for you, my boy." He began to walk away, indicating for me to follow.
"Cesar!" I grabbed his arm. "Are you referring to the girl I was with the other day?"
Cesar's forehead creased, displaying deep wrinkles. "Your girlfriend, no?"
"No, she's not my girlfriend." I contemplated my next move and deciding it would be best to leave, I stepped backward, heading to the door. "I forgot something back at school, I need to go." Right before I ran out, I heard my name.
"Samson?"
I turned to see Natalia standing next to Cesar. They both wore the same puzzled expression.
"Hey, Natalia." I took a deep breath, trying to come up with an excuse as to why I was running out of there. I was just about to tell her the same story, until she started speaking.
"You're avoiding me. I came here thinking I might find you."
"I'm not avoiding you." I totally was. "I just ... I forgot something back at the dorm." Seriously, Samson? You couldn't come up with something better?
Cesar looked at Natalia and then me. Finally comprehending what was going on, he walked to the back of the restaurant, leaving us alone.
"Just admit it. I promise you won't croak from being honest." Her tone was cold, revealing just how upset she was. She was wearing thick-framed glasses, a tight Beatles shirt, and blue jeans that had holes in the knees. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she was wearing the combat boots I saw her in often. I never imagined actually finding a girl who made combat boots attractive. I also never thought I would fall for someone new so quickly.
"I've been avoiding you, but not because I didn't want to see you. I've wanted to see your face every second of the day, but how you reacted to what I told you was pretty messed up."
Natalia's head bowed down, looking at the hardwood floors. She stayed that way for a few seconds, before lifting her face to look at mine. "I don't know what got into me. I know I shouldn't have reacted that way, I had no right to." Natalia's eyes darted around the restaurant.
I walked away from the door, closing in on the distance between us. "Did you really not believe a word I said to you in your dorm?" My voice remained low, not wanting everyone in the restaurant to hear our conversation.
"You were right. I've lived my entire life trying to make my mother happy, never really focusing on what I wanted." She frowned with sadness. "I know I need to put my own happiness first, but even that scares me."
"You didn't answer my question. Do you not believe what I told you?" I stood my ground even though all I wanted was to hold her.
"I'm trying."
Her words reverberated inside me. The same words I said to Aubrey a few days ago. Was there a way to succeed with love again? I wasn't sure. I didn't even know if I could hold onto it if I was given another chance.
I walked past Natalia, to an empty booth, and sat down. I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes. I heard Natalia take the seat across from me, but she didn't say a word. When I looked up, she was staring back at me.
"You're in a hard place," she said. "I didn't expect to have feelings for someone so quickly either. I know how you feel." She reached across the table and took my hand in hers.
"You don't know how I feel, Natalia," I stated. "You really don't. I want to move on so badly, but then I wonder if I'm making the right choice. Leaving the only girl I've ever loved for a stranger?" I knew the moment the words left my mouth, that I had said the wrong thing.
"This is why I never wanted you to tell me you had feelings for me." She paused, biting her bottom lip. "I would be the rebound girl, wouldn't I?"
"I didn't mean it–" I scratched the back of my head, trying to absorb my thoughts before speaking again. "I told you this before, but I'll say it again and I hope this time it sticks. You could never be anyone's rebound. I just ... " I took a deep breath. "I didn't anticipate my life going this way. It had always been planned out, up until the point that I moved here. New York was supposed to be my answer, Natalia."
We each stayed quiet for a few more moments, before Cesar walked up to the table and asked if we needed a drink. I ordered both of us a DiSarrono, not caring that it was still early in the day.
"I didn't want a drink," Natalia said.
"We could both use one," I responded.
"Is New York your answer, Samson?" Natalia looked at me expectantly. She wanted me to say yes.
My eyes peered into hers and I felt a familiar flip in my stomach. The feeling I got every time I looked at her. "I hope so."
With my answer, she gave a small smile.
"I know I made the right decision ending things with Aubrey. It was time. What I need you to understand is that she'll probably always be a part of my life in some
way. I can't tell you if this," I pointed between us, "will work out, but I can tell you that I want it to."
"I'm ready to take a chance," Natalia said confidently.
"We could go back to my place and play Twister ... but I don't have the board."
My smile reflected hers. I was happy that my joke broke some of the tension. It was getting serious, and being with Natalia didn't feel like we were in a library, having to be quiet and courteous at all times. She was fun and silly, which I loved. Natalia swayed her neck back and forth.
"You waste no time, do you?" she asked, laughing lightly.
I responded with sincerity, "Why waste time when you know exactly what you want?"
"Why waste time when you know exactly what you want?" My dad asked me the same question a few years ago, before I auditioned for Juilliard. We were sitting at our favorite diner eating breakfast. He looked at me with the same look he always gave, the kind that showed so much admiration. It was our first breakfast together in months. My dad was finally feeling well enough to leave the house.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" I blushed.
"You amaze me more and more every day, kiddo." He reached across the table, and rubbed his fingers softly across my hand.
"You're the amazing one, Dad." My father was a strong, caring man. Like me, though, he wasn't ever able to take a compliment.
"I'm just a father that would do anything for his daughter. You make getting out of bed easy each morning." Getting out of bed had been one of the hardest feats for my dad, who was up most nights, sick from chemo. Every morning though, no matter how sick he felt, he would walk into the kitchen with a smile on his face, kiss me on the forehead and say, "I feel amazing this morning because you're my daughter." It was a statement to reassure me that he'd be okay. The first morning he didn't walk into the kitchen, I broke down, sobbing over my half-eaten bowl of Cheerios.
"Earth to Natalia."
Two fingers snapped in front of my face. I came back to reality and I saw Samson sitting across from me.
In the Air (The City #1) Page 12
