Head to Head (On Pointe Book 2)

by Penelope Freed

  “I was doing the right thing, what we,” I point to Hannah and myself, “decided was our plan. It wasn’t exactly easy, you know?” All the anger dissipates from my voice as I finish, the fight going out of me as fast as it rushed in.

  Hannah’s anger apparently isn’t going to fade quite as quickly as my own. “You’re telling me, you broke up—”

  “We were never together.”

  “Whatever. You broke it off with Hunter because of me?” The incredulity in her voice makes me want to argue again, except that tiny little voice of logic in the back of my brain, the one I’ve been telling to shut up for the last week, is shouting at me that she probably has a point. Right now, I don’t care, I don’t want to listen to logic. I always listen to logic. So far, all logic has gotten me is a lot of sad nights wishing I could give in and be with Hunter.

  I don’t care if it makes me sound whiny, this is the path we chose together and damn it, if I have to be lonely and not date the guy I want, she doesn’t get to either. “We said no dating. We decided that was the only way to make our goals happen. What happened to getting into the same company one day? So yeah, I’m not dating Hunter because of that. And you don’t get to date Trevor either.”

  “Are you being serious right now?” Hannah asks. “You’re seriously telling me I’m not allowed to date Trevor just because you’re afraid to date Hunter?”

  I open and close my mouth trying to find an argument, but Hannah doesn’t give me a chance to speak.

  “Just because you’re afraid of taking a chance, doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to. Which one of us was brave enough to go to New York to compete and made it to the finals? Do you know why my Aurora variation was better than my contemporary? Because Trevor kept me calm while I was waiting. I ignored him before the contemporary and look how well I did there. Maybe instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re scared and sad, you should take a look in the mirror.”

  Is she serious right now? All my anger from before comes boiling back up to the surface.

  “Wow, low blow, Hannah. You don’t think I wanted to be able to go to New York? Do you know how hard I’ve been working just for the chance to go to PSB? My parents think ballet is something I do for fun, they will never support me like your parents support you. I know Katy told you I yelled at Hunter for not having a ‘good enough A.’ You know what? She’s right. I did. Because I was so distracted by him that I got a seventy on a quiz, which brought my grade down to a ninety-four point eight.”

  I can’t help the sarcasm that creeps into my voice. “Oh no, poor Lisa, didn’t get an A-plus on her assignment? I know that’s what everyone is thinking. You have no idea. The only way I get to go to PSB with you is if I have at least a ninety-five in all of my classes.”

  “Wait, what?” Hannah interrupts my tirade.

  “The deal I made with my parents. I have to have a ninety-five percent in every one of my classes by Friday before they’ll let me go. So yes, my grade being a little less than perfect is a big deal.” With that, I gather up my books and walk away. I can’t take it anymore, I don’t like feeling like this. Like an angry, swirling, mess of emotions. I’m a failure. I’ve been juggling everything in my life for so long, school, dance, friends, family. I had it all perfectly coordinated. Yes, it was exhausting, but I had it under control.

  I should have known that adding one more thing to juggle was a mistake. I tried to tell him, I tried to stay focused, but Hunter insisted on inserting himself into my life, and now I’ve dropped all the balls. My grades aren’t good enough, both of my best friends are mad at me, even in dance I’ve been distracted and not doing my best. The one thing I still seem to be keeping afloat are my parents’ expectations of me and that’s only until they check my grades on Friday. How am I ever going to clean up this mess?

  “Lisa?”

  “Yes, Ms. Parker?” I say, trotting over to her after class. If nothing else, at least tonight in class I was able to stay focused, fully throwing myself into the movements and not letting anything, or anyone, else take up space in my head. It probably helped that both Hannah and Katy were absent. Olivia and I shared a barre and she wisely left me alone.

  “Keep an eye on how you’re feeling, okay? With Hannah and Katy both out with the flu, I worry that you’ll catch it as well.”

  “The flu?”

  “Yes, they both texted me earlier to say they weren’t coming today because they’re sick with the flu. I wonder if it’s actually something they ate? It’s such a coincidence that they both are home throwing up. I’m glad you’re not sick too.”

  “Yeah…sure.” I answer vaguely. Both home throwing up? I find that hard to believe, they were fine at school. Hannah was obviously well enough to yell at me. I don’t know what Katy’s issue is, but a sour clenching in my stomach tells me that somehow, I’m to blame.

  “Are you okay?” Olivia’s question takes me by surprise the second I set foot in the dressing room to pack up my stuff. The narrow room is empty except for the two of us, everyone else has already packed up and left for the night. I pull a pair of shorts out of my dance bag and start pulling them on.

  “Yeah?” A glance at Olivia’s face and I know she doesn’t believe me for a second. I blow out a breath, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. I’ve been sleep-deprived for years, but this emotional exhaustion is a whole new kind of tired. I don’t have the energy to pretend I’m okay right now. “No, actually, I’m really not.”

  Sliding down next to me, Olivia sighs, stretching out her legs next to mine. “I’m guessing this has everything to do with why Katy’s been eating lunch with me all week, Hannah isn’t here, and Hunter is moping around like a kicked puppy?”

  I nod. I can’t get any words out past the tightness in the back of my throat.

  “Girls! Are you still in there?” Ms. Parker knocks gently on the dressing room door. “I’m locking up.”

  “We’ll be out in a minute!” Olivia calls for me. “I’m assuming you drove yourself since you aren’t rushing out?” At my second silent nod, Olivia stands, pulling me to my feet. “Come on, I’m buying you a hot chocolate.”

  Following her out the dressing room, we run into Ms. Parker, gathering up her assorted bags and water bottles. Some kind of silent conversation happens between her and Olivia that has Ms. Parker putting all her stuff down and walking towards me. Before I can protest, Ms. Parker’s arms are wrapped around me, pulling me in for a hug. Ms. Parker gives good hugs.

  I let myself relax against her a moment, it feels so good to let someone else hold me up for a minute, before straightening up. “Thanks, I needed that.”

  “Is it something I can help with?” Ms. Parker asks, glancing between the two of us. “My advice is almost as good as my hugs.” Do I actually want to talk to Ms. Parker about my boy problems? And do I want to rat Hannah out? Thankfully, Olivia decides for me.

  “I think we just need some girl talk, but thanks. Goodnight, Ms. Parker!” With that, Olivia drags me out the door, not stopping until we’re safely ensconced next door in Beans ‘n Things.

  “Go pick a table, I’ll be right there.” Olivia nods me to one of the empty tables. I plop down in one of the two overstuffed chairs in the corner, pulling out my phone to text my parents, letting them know I’ll be home a little late and that I’m with Olivia. Hopefully I won’t get the third degree when I get home, but I’m going to leave that problem for Future Lisa to solve.

  “Start at the beginning,” Olivia suggests unceremoniously. She sets two paper cups of steaming hot chocolate on the end table between us. Looking at the paper cups reminds me of all the times Hunter brought me tea in the mornings. I miss him. It’s been three days of not talking to him and I miss him more than I thought possible.

  Pushing past the lump in my throat, I start talking, filling Olivia in on everything that’s happened in the last few months. From running into Hunter at
Wedgewood, to my run in with her friends in the bathroom. Olivia listens, although she can’t hide the face she makes at her supposed friends’ words.

  “They suck sometimes, I’m sorry,” Olivia interrupts me, squeezing my hand.

  “It’s not your fault. But it did make me realize that Hunter comes with a whole bag of drama. And honestly? I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Olivia takes a long sip of her drink, eyeing me over the top of the cup. Setting it down on the table she turns to me with a serious expression. “Is he worth it?”

  “Is he worth what?”

  “Is Hunter worth putting up with the drama?”

  Stalling while I think, I take my own long sip of the hot chocolate, rich, creamy and sweet on my tongue, the complete opposite of the tea I usually drink. Sighing, I force myself to think about Olivia’s question instead of letting myself be distracted by chocolate.

  “I think… he’s worth the drama at school. I don’t want to deal with it, with the gossip and the snide comments, but, I could. And I think that the drama with Katy would blow over eventually. Once she sees that he’s not going to take me away from being her friend.” Setting my cup down next to Olivia’s I slump back into the cushions behind me. “But I won’t give up my dream of dancing because of him. I’ve worked so hard, I’ve given up so many things to convince my parents to let me keep dancing…”

  “I’m not arguing with you, chica. You’re right. Katy will come around, she’s just scared of the unknown. The drama at school will go away, especially if Hunter stands up for you. And you know that I’ll have your back. Tyler too.” Olivia looks thoughtful. “Actually…the only person who’s going to try and make your life miserable is Megan, because she’s a basic bitch who likes drama for the entertainment. She’s only giving you a hard time because she has her sights set on Jack and he’s oblivious to her. And you know Jack isn’t going to be part of any drama that makes Hunter upset, he’s already antsy with the way Hunter’s been moping around all week.”

  I can’t stop the twinge of guilt, paired with a little flame of hope, that hits me at Olivia’s words. Hope that’s immediately dashed when I remember the real problem.

  “Mean girl drama aside, the real problem is that all of this drama is affecting my grades, and my grades are going to affect if my parents let me keep dancing.”

  “I’m going to offer up a suggestion that you’re probably not going to like. But hear me out.” Olivia laughs at my attempt not to roll my eyes. “Seriously, Lisa. Hear me out.”

  “At this point, I’ll take any suggestion.”

  “Maybe you should try talking to your parents. It was one quiz, right? And all your other grades are, like, perfect, right? Maybe they would be open to some renegotiation? Maybe you’re making your life harder than it needs to be.”

  Who is this rational girl and what has she done with the Oliva I’ve known for years? “Um, did you really just suggest I talk to my parents? Says the girl who was grounded for a month for lying about being with Hannah to get a later curfew?”

  My words come out harsher than I intended, I want to take them back the second they leave my mouth. Olivia bites her lip and looks away from me, the color rising in her cheeks. What is wrong with me? This isn’t me. I don’t say mean things.

  “Olivia, I—” I start to apologize but she stops me with a hand.

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t mean that like it sounded,” she says, still not looking at me. “You’re not wrong, I’m not exactly a model of good decision-making. But maybe that’s exactly why you should listen to me and learn from my mistakes. Don’t assume your parents are going to say no. Have you ever told them outright that you don’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer or whatever it is you think they want you to be? Have you said the words to them, ‘I want to be a dancer?’ Maybe they’re assuming you feel the same way they do?”

  Well, when she puts it like that…my brain whirls. Have I ever actually told my parents what I want? Or have I always done what they said and assumed that the answer would be no if I ever got up the nerve to ask?

  I don’t know if I’m ready to have that conversation tonight, not with everything else going on, but maybe it’s time I start asking for what I want more often. But that still doesn’t help me decide what to do about Hunter.

  Slowly, I voice some of my thoughts to Olivia. “Maybe you’re right. I’ve never actually asked my parents for what I want. But I already made this deal with them, and I don’t think I can renegotiate now. And somehow, I have to make things right with Hunter, plus Katy and Hannah. Our Chem project is due tomorrow, so I’m going to have to talk to Hunter tonight.” I sigh, not looking forward to it.

  “So, you have to talk to him tonight? Good. Make sure you grovel properly.”

  “Me?”

  “Uh, duh? You’re the one who yelled at him, broke things off with him, and broke his heart. We’ve been friends for a long time, Lisa, so I’m going to be honest. I know you wouldn’t be hurtful on purpose, but that boy is hurting. Bad.”

  At Olivia’s words my heart sinks, settling in the pit of my stomach like a lead weight. She’s right. I’ve been so focused on how much I hurt my own heart, how scared I was, how hard all of this was for me that I never thought about how my words and actions must have hurt Hunter. I blink back the tears that fill my eyes. “I’m the worst,” I whisper to myself, as my fingers tie themselves up in my lap.

  Olivia’s hand covers my own. “Not the worst, just not at your best right now.” When I don’t look at her, she shakes my arm until my eyes meet hers. “Hey. We’re sixteen, Lisa, we’re supposed to eat crappy food and make bad choices,” I laugh at the echo of her words from months ago, words that started the four of us down a path that’s been changing our friendships ever since. And not necessarily in a bad way. “You’re supposed to be the smart one, remember? I trust you’ll figure it out. You made some dumb choices, sure. I’m not going to call them bad because we all know you didn’t intend to hurt anyone. But it’s not the end of the world, people have made dumber choices than this and made a full recovery—you’re talking to the proof.” Olivia points a thumb at her chest.

  “You think so?” I ask, needing reassurance. In all the drama between Hannah and Olivia, I actually kind of forgot how awesome Olivia can be. She’s a good friend. Probably better than I deserve right now after the way Katy and I jumped to Hannah’s defense when they were fighting.

  “First, you need to decide what you want from Hunter—do you want to go back to just being his little sister’s friend? Do you want to be his friend? Or do you want to be more than his friend? Then go from there.” She drains her hot chocolate while I ponder her words.

  What do I want? Before I can get too caught up in my thoughts, Olivia interrupts them one more time.

  “When you decide, don’t think about anyone else. Not the bitches at school, not your parents, not Katy. Just you. If it was only you and Hunter and no one else involved, would you want to date him?”

  Yes.

  Absolutely, yes.

  I guess I have my answer. Now to figure out how to make it happen. Starting with the biggest apology I can manage.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hannah

  “Knock, knock.” Katy’s head pokes through my door, distracting me from counting the faint marks left on my ceiling from the glow-in-the-dark stars I’d insisted on sticking up when I was little. “I’m playing hooky from dance, you are too, right?”

  “I already told my mom and Ms. Parker I have a stomach-ache.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, either. The thought of stepping into the studio right now makes my stomach clench and cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. I just can’t do it. Maybe I won’t dance anymore, I’ll be a normal teenager. It seems like life would be so much easier if going to the mall and talking about boys was the beginning and end of my personality. Who cares that I committ
ed to going to PSB on Monday? Wanting to be a dancer is so much work.

  Right now, I’m too tired to want it.

  Katy sits down on my bed, poking my side. “Come on, lazy bones, we’re hanging out.”

  Instead of answering her, I bury my head under my pillow. “I was busy before you got here.”

  “Doing what? Staring at the ceiling?”

  “I was counting spots of leftover glue, thank you very much.” That earns me another poke to the side. Harder this time. “Ow!”

  “Get up, let’s go.” Groaning, I roll to my side and stand up. I’m still in my shorts and t-shirt from school today. I haven’t worn a leotard and tights since Saturday, which is weird and also kind of nice all at once.

  “How did you get here?” Katy is the only one of us who doesn’t have her license yet.

  “Jack drove me.”

  “He dropped you off?”

  “No, he’s coming with us. We need his help.”

  Confused, I pause in the middle of stuffing my phone in my pocket. “Why...uh...why do we need his help? What do we need his help with?” I had assumed Katy was here to cheer me up or something.

  Katy turns, eyeing me up and down. I know I’m a little disheveled, the braid I twisted my hair into this morning is coming loose and my shirt is a little stretched out in places, but I was going for comfort over style. Who am I kidding? I always go for comfort over style.

  “I love you, Hannah Banana, but you’re a hot mess. Hang on.” She pulls out her phone and texts someone, Jack I assume, before striding over to my closet where she starts going through the various clothing hanging in it. “I’m not being seen with you looking like you just rolled out of bed. Fix your hair while I pick something out.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Trust me. If you go out looking like a slob, you’re going to want to come home and wallow in your misery even more. Fix. Now.”