“You mean that?”
“Of course I’m proud of you, I just wish there was some way I could have gone with you. I’m more jealous than anything else.” I laugh, wanting her to know I’m not mad. It’s hard to be mad at anyone right now, not when my mom just made my dream come true with the click of a button.
“Hey, Han?”
“Yeah?”
“You are going to PSB, right?”
“Yeah. While I was in New York, I kept talking it over with Ms. Parker. The studios at CBS are gorgeous, and I would go if I could, but a couple of the teachers from PSB were at the competition and their classes were some of my favorites. My mom sent in the paperwork on Monday before we left. I was going to tell you but…”
Hannah trails off and we’re both silent for a long minute. I’m stretched out on my bed, staring at the ceiling, the red and yellow comforter beneath me soft and comfy. I can see that Hannah’s sitting on her bed too, I know that flower bedspread, she’s had it for as long as I can remember.
“Lisa?”
“Yeah?” I pick at the bedspread, not sure what Hannah’s going to ask, hoping it isn’t about Hunter.
“We’re good, right?”
“Yeah, Han, we’re good.”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course you can. That’s what besties are for.” I turn my head to the side to look at the screen again. Hannah has the biggest grin on her face. “Spill.”
“So… I think Trevor and I are, like, official.” She breaks off with a muffled squeal into her pillow. She and Trevor, huh? I’m so happy for her, even if my own heart breaks a little at the thought.
“That’s so cool, I’m super happy for you, Hannah,” I manage to say around the lump in my throat. I listen while Hannah tells me how it happened, laughing at Jack’s role in everything. After so many years of Jack and Hunter ignoring us, it’s weird how suddenly they’re both acting like we’ve always been their friends too. After a few more excited minutes chatting with Hannah, my eyes go back to the binder sitting on my desk. I know it’s not vital anymore, but I still want to turn in a perfect project tomorrow.
“Hey Han, I have to go, I need to get the project finished for tomorrow,” I interrupt her happy play-by-play of Trevor’s latest text.
“Right, okay. Goodnight!” Giving her a little wave, I end the call.
There’s a sticky note on the front of the binder, written in Hunter’s favorite green pen.
Sport,
I finished the conclusion and did the appendixes like we discussed. I figured you’d want to double check it. Everything is in the shared document if you need to fix it.
— Hunter
Flipping through the pages, I re-read everything, looking for any mistakes. I’ve read most of these pages so many times it’s hard to force myself to look at it clearly, checking for typos, but I don’t see any.
Reaching the conclusion, I slow down, reading Hunter’s words for the first time. The information isn’t new, it’s everything we’ve already discussed to death, so I focus on the spelling and grammar. I’ve read it through three times before I can admit there are no mistakes. Not that I wanted there to be. Of course, the one person who lives up to my impossibly high standards is the one guy I’ve totally blown it with.
Closing the binder is like closing a chapter on my own heavy heart. He’s not going to forgive me, and I can’t blame him. How many times did I push him away? How many times did I tell him I couldn’t date him? Only a fool would keep coming back for more rejection, and Hunter isn’t a fool.
I knew I’d pushed him too far on Monday, he’s barely said a word to me since. For all my supposed intelligence, I didn’t realize how much I’d miss him until it was too late. I guess my heart isn’t as smart as I thought it was.
I wish it was as easy for me as it was for Hannah and Trevor. But the words I said, the rejections I’ve thrown at Hunter, hang over my head. There were no apologies needed between them, whereas I’ve got a huge one to make to Hunter. I can’t even think about wanting anything more than his forgiveness right now. I need us to at least still be friends. Right now, he probably can’t even stand the sight of me.
I’ll start with the easiest part.
Me: Project looks perfect. Thank you for finishing it tonight.
Bottom lip caught between my teeth, I debate with myself. I didn’t want to do this over text, but I may not have another choice.
Me: I’m really sorry about Monday. I was upset with myself and I took it out on you. You deserve better than that. I’m so sorry.
I wait, staring at the screen, looking for those three little dots that tell me he’s going to respond. When nothing happens, I pull out my other textbooks and start going over the rest of my homework. Yes, I already finished it, but if I don’t do something right now, I’ll go crazy waiting. I guess old habits die hard, studying and going back over my homework and notes checking for errors is still second nature to me.
After what feels like hours, my phone buzzes against my desk. Without even looking, I grab it to see what Hunter said.
Katy: So…I owe you a big apology. I don’t know why the idea of you dating Hunter freaked me out so much. Honestly, I couldn’t think of anyone better for him. You’re the only person I know who’s smarter than him and will keep him on his toes. I’m sorry I said anything about him being hung up on Olivia (he yelled at me about it), and that I didn’t punch Megan in the nose at school the other day. God, she’s a real bitch, you know that? It would totally be worth the suspension. Please forgive me and don’t make me sit with them again at lunch, I don’t think I can take it.
It wasn’t the text from Hunter I wanted, but I think Katy’s apology is even better. Knowing that I’ll have both of my best friends back? Even if Hunter ignores me for the rest of my life, well, the rest of the week at least, I can handle anything with my girls at my back. Even cheerleaders and their snide commentary.
Me: Of course I forgive you, and I wasn’t the one making you sit with Megan and co. You made that mistake all on your own.
Me: Also, my parents gave me permission to go to PSB!!!
Putting my phone down, my heart lighter than it’s been in days, I contemplate changing into my pajamas now, or re-reading my English assignment one more time. I’ve pulled my paper out to re-read it when my phone buzzes again.
Hunter: Do you know why my sister is dancing around the house celebrating at the top of her lungs at 10pm on a Wed? I’m about to toss her in the pool. Although my mom may beat me to it.
Me: I couldn’t say for certain but it may have something to do with me
Hunter: ??????
Me: My parents finally gave me permission to go to that summer intensive in Seattle. And we made up.
Hunter: That’s awesome news! Does this mean you’re dancing around your house like she’s dancing around ours?
It worries me that Hunter isn’t saying anything about my apology. Are we going to pretend like it never happened? Has he written me off for good? Are we just going to be friends and nothing more? Disappointment weighs on me. Typing, it takes all my will power not to ask him what he wants from me.
Me: Yeah right, my parents would have me committed. I am celebrating quietly in my room like a normal person does on a Wed night.
Hunter: Well that’s lame.
Me: Have you met me?
Hunter: Meet me outside in 5 mins
Me: Why?
Hunter: Just do it Sport. I promise not to get you in trouble.
Me: Again, have you met me?
Hunter: Tick tock
I look at the time, it’s only a little after ten, I can probably go outside for a minute without raising too much suspicion.
I slip down the stairs and into the kitchen to pull the trash bag out of the can. My mom is still sitting at the table, papers spread
out, typing away on her laptop. “What are you doing?” she calls out to me in Japanese.
“Just taking out the trash,” I respond in kind. “Thank you again for letting me go this summer,” I add for good measure.
“I know we’re hard on you, but we do love you and want you to be happy.”
“Oyasumi nasai,” I murmur, wishing my mom goodnight before dragging the full bag out the door. I stop at the front door and trade my house slippers for a pair of flip flops before I head out into the warm night air.
A hand lands on my shoulder as I finish pulling the trash can out to the curb. Stifling a scream, I whirl to face my attacker only to find myself looking up into Hunter’s laughing face.
“Oh my god, don’t do that!” I hiss at him, ineffectually slapping my hand against his chest to emphasize my point as my heart thumps frantically in my own. “You scared me!”
Hunter’s dark eyes twinkle under the streetlights. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”
“Where’s your truck? I was listening for it.”
“I parked it down the street.” He shrugs. “So, are we celebrating or what?”
“Um, what?” I ask, confused. “I’m taking out the trash.”
“You mean I brought this for nothing?” Hunter shakes the bag in his hand.
“What is it?” I ask, suspicious.
“Just something to celebrate with.” He shrugs, opening the bag wide so I can see the two ice cream bars nestled inside. Does this mean he’s forgiven me?
“You bought these for me?”
“I raided the freezer for you, don’t get too excited,” he teases back.
“What a gentleman,” I say as I reach in and take them out. I hand one to Hunter, looking around for someplace we can sit and eat them. I sit down on the curb on the far side of the trash cans, using them to shield myself from view of the house and pat the cement next to me. “Here, we can sit over here.”
Hunter sits next to me, stretching his long legs out next to mine. We tap our bars together and cheer before taking our first bite. The snap of chocolate before the creamy center melts against my tongue, the warmth of Hunter’s body next to mine and the buzz of the streetlamp above our heads combine in a heady rush that burns through me. I’m breathless, like I’ve climbed a mountain and I don’t know whether to cry or cheer.
“So... You and Hannah are going to spend your summer in Seattle. I thought you weren’t going to know until after we got our grades on Friday?”
“My mom told me tonight. Even though I didn’t quite get the one grade, they saw how hard I’ve been working. I guess they took pity on me.” I shrug.
“I think you mean, they love you and want you to do what makes you happy. Right?”
“Yeah,” I say, exhaustion lacing my words. “I’m really excited to go. But right now, I’m so tired that all I want to do is sleep for a week,” I admit. “I’ve been so focused on getting here, on doing what I had to do so I could go, that I feel like I haven’t stopped working since April. And I know I wasn’t fair to you. Seriously, Hunter, I’m so sorry.” I lean back on my hand and close my eyes, trying to relax and calm the butterflies dancing in my gut.
Mentally, I’m begging Hunter to say he forgives me. I want him to tell me that he still likes me, that he hasn’t given up on us. Even though I’ve rejected it every time he’s said it, I need him to say it one more time so I can change my answer.
I know Hunter’s eyes are on me, but I refuse to turn my head and look. Grateful for the dark night and my tan skin that hides the blush creeping over my face, I take another bite of my ice cream. My stomach is excited and queasy all at once. If I don’t look, I can’t be disappointed in what I see. I’m not sure what would be worse, turning and seeing that he’s still mad at me, or if there’s more.
I want so desperately for there to be more.
If Hannah can have it all, why can’t I?
“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait for school to be over. I’m so over Chem, I’m actually glad that we’re turning in our project tomorrow instead of Friday. I just want to be done already,” Hunter says. What? Why are we talking about this? “I got my SAT scores back. Guess that week at Wedgewood paid off.”
I lick the melted ice cream about to run over my fingers. “That’s great, Hunter. When are you going to start filling out college applications?” Do you forgive me? Or did I blow it? I need to know.
“Eventually,” Hunter says with an easy smile and a shrug. “You got a little…” Gingerly, he reaches out and grasps my chin, gently swiping his thumb along my bottom lip. If I thought my heart was racing before, now it’s galloping, thundering in my chest. Hunter’s thumb lingers on my bottom lip, barely touching it. With a gentle tug, he pulls me forward. I swallow, licking my lips without thought, and Hunter’s eyes darken. Oh my God, he’s going to kiss me.
Except he doesn’t. Instead, Hunter lets go of my chin and sits back, murmuring an apology. Disappointment races through me. I stare at the ice cream slowly melting on my stick, a bead of melted cream hovering on the cracked edge of chocolate.
Hang on a minute. Did I or did I not ask my parents for what I wanted and got it? Didn’t I just have this conversation with Olivia, that I need to actually say what I want?
Hasn’t Hunter been the one to put himself out there every time, only to be rejected by me? It’s selfish of me to expect him to always do the work. It’s time I made the first move.
“Hunter?”
The resigned sigh he gives comes from deep in his lungs, like he’s waiting for me to give the final blow and knock him down. I hate that I’ve done that to him.
“Yeah?”
I take a deep breath. I need to do this.
“I’m such a chicken.”
Now I have his attention. “What makes you say that?”
“Because I let the fear of what people might say stop me from asking for what I want.” I finally look up into his face. Those dark eyes of his are searching mine, wary.
“What is it you want, Sport?”
“You.”
Hunter’s lips barely touch mine, a feathery brush really, as he cups my cheek with his hand. I gasp against his lips and he pulls back, his eyes searching my face. “Lisa...uh...” he starts to speak but I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. This kiss isn’t gentle like the first. This time he slides his hand behind my neck and pulls me close. I can taste the chocolate and vanilla of our ice cream bars on his lips. Time stops, the only things real are Hunter’s lips against mine and his firm fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck.
I could do this forever.
Well, at least for the next few minutes until I need to go back inside. Probably not a good idea to push my luck with my parents just yet.
Chapter Twenty-one
Hannah
Friday before finals week and all I want is to get it over with. The atmosphere at school is a weird mix of giddy anticipation for the summer, dread for finals and bleary exhaustion from the people who stayed up late studying. Personally, I’m a mess of bubbly happiness over Trevor, relief at making things right with Lisa, and nervous excitement that I leave for PSB in two weeks.
I suppose finals factor in there somewhere too.
The sun is warm, almost too warm, on my shoulders as our usual lunchtime bench comes into view. The sweatshirt I threw on this morning, currently tied around my waist, flaps against the back of my legs, the zipper cold against my skin from the air conditioning of my Spanish classroom. I pause for a moment, happy to see Katy and Lisa both there, chatting like the last week of them not speaking never happened.
Yesterday, after all the apologies between us, Lisa had a group study session at lunch, so even though supposedly everything was fine, it still felt like things weren’t quite right. Katy and I spent lunch going over Spanish notes, we
have the same teacher but not the same period. Even in class, it still felt like things weren’t quite as back to normal as usual, but I think that had more to do with me than anything.
Walking into the studio last night had my stomach tied up in knots as I came through the door. Even the various parents and younger kids congratulating me on a job well-done hadn’t helped. In fact, it made it worse, made me want to turn around and run right out the door. Fortunately, Katy was already there and dragged me into the safety of the dressing room until it was time for class to start. I hadn’t felt okay again until we were halfway through plies, the familiar movements soothing my frayed nerves. It wasn’t my greatest class ever, but Ms. Parker gave us a pretty easy class, full of fun, waltzy movement that had me smiling by the time we finished.
I’m surprised she didn’t say anything to me last night, I practically skipped the whole last week of classes before our end of year recital. Technically, I only skipped one more day than we originally planned because of my trip to New York, but I still felt all kinds of guilty over it.
Between last night’s class, Trevor’s good morning text, and seeing my two best friends again, life is good. Throw in the gorgeous end of May weather, a long weekend ahead of me, our end of year recital on Sunday and it’s a pretty perfect day.
“Hannah, what time do we have to get to the theater tomorrow?” Katy asks as I come close. I hope Lisa doesn’t notice how odd Katy’s voice is, subtle is not Katy’s strong suit.
“Ms. Parker is getting there at eight she said, I was going to try and be there by eight-thirty.”
Katy groans. “Why do we have to be there so early?”
“I like getting to rehearse all of our dances early and then being able to take a break before dress rehearsal. We should go get lunch or something,” Lisa muses, staring across the quad. I follow her gaze to see Hunter and Jack laughing at something Tyler is doing. Lisa’s face is pensive, but she doesn’t look unhappy. Probably since she doesn’t have to worry about her Chemistry grade anymore.
Head to Head (On Pointe Book 2) Page 20
