Heartfall, p.6
Heartfall, page 6
But my little moment earlier on the beach with the ample thinking time has not bode well for trust and Sebastian. “Mysterious.”
He glances over quickly and turns the music down a notch. “Huh?”
“You asked what other adjectives I had for you. Mysterious.”
“Claire, you’ve known me since I was about four and we spend about twenty-two hours a week together. You realize that’s probably more time than we spend with our own parents, right?”
I glance out the window, yearning for the coolness that is on the other side, sure my cheeks are turning crimson based on the heat rushing to them. “You keep asking me if I trust you, and I think I do, but I don’t even know who your friends are. Who you hang out with at school.”
“That’s easy. Obviously, Ben from the studio is my best friend because I’m there all the time and we have the most in common. At school, Erik Lawson is a great buddy. See.” He squeezes my knee. “Open book.”
I swallow. Why is it that with more information I have more questions? Just one. And it’s stupid, but I can’t keep myself from asking it. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“What? I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely confused, and I feel like an idiot. “What?”
All the air leaves my lungs.
We ride in silence the rest of the way to my house. There’s nothing else for me to say. He heard my question. Why would I repeat it and further humiliate myself? It is pretty self-explanatory, so again, I think I’ll save myself the self-induced humiliation there too.
Sebastian pulls in the driveway at ten fifty-three. Seven minutes to spare. When I reach for the door, he leans over and puts his hand over mine. “What was that earlier?”
“Apparently an unanswered question.”
He cocks his head. “You think I’d kiss you, take you out on a date, if I had a girlfriend?” He clenches his eyes closed. “Was player one of your adjectives?”
“Should it be?” Ugh. I’m like one of the girls on the Monday night reality dating show.
His eyes bulge. “No. I thought you said you trusted me?”
“I thought I did, but then I had a moment where I realized you could be strumming your bow up and down my strings.”
“And you think I’m capable? That I would?”
I look up at the ceiling. Gosh, I hope he couldn’t. “Mysterious. I wish I knew you better to know the answer to those questions.”
“You apparently don’t know me at all.”
“Sebastian.”
He just stares at me.
“To be fair, my best friend of twelve years just ditched me. I did know her. Can you blame me for being guarded?”
He leans in closer and caresses my cheek. “I’m not a player, Claire. I promise. Get to know me better. Let your guard down and trust me. I’m not Tiffany. I’m not Audrina, thank God. Or Nicky. They don’t have balls for starters.”
We both laugh. It feels so good to be back to being us, whatever us is. He grabs my cheeks and brings my lips to his. He brushes them, darts his tongue between mine, then pulls back. “I know we have class tomorrow, but wanna see if you can come over after?”
“Yeah. To practice?”
“There are so many things I want to practice with you.” He smirks. “It’s ten fifty-nine, Claire.”
He helps me out and walks me to the front door. “Thank you, Sebastian. I can’t wait to ride a Ferris wheel with you again.”
“Told you. Just trust me. I’m not gonna let you fall.”
“Oh, I think you’re wrong. I’m already falling.”
His grin is dazzling and any doubts I’d had on the beach or on the way home vanish. He kisses me on the cheek and places a hand over his chest. “My heart has been waiting to hear that for at least four years. Goodnight, Claire.”
I shut the door behind me and stand there, my head against the old wood, my eyes closed, and let the memories dance across my lids.
“How was it?” Mom asks.
My entire body jumps, and my heart races. “You scared the living daylights out of me.”
“Sorry. I saw the flowers. That was sweet of him. He didn’t come in, right?” Her face tightens. “Because you know the rules.”
I shake my head and swallow thinking back to Sebastian mounting me on the counter, his hands roaming my body, finding their way up my shirt. My pulse races remembering how hard it was to stop him from doing more. “I rode the Ferris wheel tonight.”
Her eyes bulge. “Wow. And?”
A nervous laugh falls off my lips. “I’m still alive.” I plop down on the couch, which only takes about two steps. “His parents built him a home studio for Christmas last year.”
“Must be nice,” she mumbles under her breath as she looks away.
“He invited me over after class tomorrow to help me with some things. He really wants to do some partner work.”
“Shouldn’t that be supervised by Robins?” When I don’t say anything and just stare at her, she nibbles on the side of her cheek. “Will his parents be home?”
“His mom doesn’t work, so she’s always around.”
“That’s not what I asked, Claire. I asked if she’d be home tomorrow.” She crosses her arms. “I had you when I was a teenager. I don’t want you in situations where you could make the same mistakes I did.”
Why does she always assume just because it happened to her it will happen to me? “His parents will be home. Promise.”
“I get Robins isn’t supportive of promoting you or advancing you, but who is going to spot y’all doing partner work if you’re doing it at Sebastian’s?”
“We’re not close to doing anything that would require spotting.” I shift in my seat, feeling like this is more of an interrogation, and like I’m a balloon at the fair that someone just threw a dart through. She’s raining on my parade. Bursting my happy bubble.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Maybe Ben can help us when we get to that point or something.” I’m not that close to Ben. In fact, in the past he’s always been like a playful jerk. I realize that’s a bit of an oxymoron, but that’s the only way I know how to describe it. Like bad flirting, or something. Since he and Sebastian are the only two guys in the company, they seem to have some kind of a bond. And it’s not like we could ask any of the girls, so that’s the only person I can legit think of who could help us. For a minute, I wonder if Sebastian has even thought that far. It’s a good question. One I hadn’t considered.
“I’m tired, so I’m gonna go to bed. Thanks for letting me go to his house tomorrow.” Leaning over, I kiss her on the cheek. “Love you, Mom.”
“Claire?”
“Huh?”
Her brows are furrowed, the lines of her forehead crumpled. Something’s definitely still bothering her. I hope she isn’t about to change her mind about letting me dance with Sebastian tomorrow. What harm could possibly come from a few hours at his house with his parents there? She’s never been a super overprotective parent. Please don’t start being that way now, Mom. She bites her bottom lip, her lids droopy. It’s like her mind is at war with her mouth. Finally, she manages a single word. “Never mind.”
Whew. “Goodnight, Mom.”
“Night, baby girl.”
“Morning,” I say, rubbing the sleep from the corners of my eyes, then brushing the wisps of hair that have fallen from the top knot I never took down last night behind my ears.
“Want some breakfast?”
Pulling a chair from the under the table, I shake my head. “Too early.”
She spoons sugar in her coffee and pours a splash of milk, then clinks the spoon around the red ceramic mug that has faded hearts covering it. Grandma always took me to buy my gifts for her, and one year I bought it for her for Valentine’s filled with chocolates. She uses it all the time.
“How are you getting to Sebastian’s?”
“Ugh.” I put my head on the table. It’s too early for deep thought too. The nice thing about weekend classes is we don’t have to work transportation around my school schedule and Mom’s lunch break. Well, sort of. Mom lets me drive her to work and take the car to dance. Then, when I’m done, I usually go pick her up for her lunch break. She drops me off at the house, then takes herself back to work so she has the car until she gets off. It’s a pain, but it works. I can’t complain since it gives me a little freedom and some time to drive myself around. This won’t work if I want to go to Sebastian’s. It’s a legit question. “I don’t know. I didn’t think about that last night when he asked me or when you and I were talking about it.”
“Well, I need to know the plan before work.”
Pushing myself up, I yawn while stretching my arms toward the ceiling. “Give me a few minutes.”
I make my way to my room, pull my cell phone out, and grab the company directory that has everyone’s number listed. Sebastian’s name and number are in front of me in black and white, but I can’t bring myself to make my fingers move to swipe the screen of my phone to input them. If he wanted me to call or text, why didn’t he give me his digits?
Maybe because he knew you already had them.
This is stupid. Collapsing on my bed, I swipe the screen, pull up the envelope to send a text, and add him to my contacts.
C: Hey, it’s Claire.
Stupid. I type and delete other words like, “I hope it’s okay I texted you.” And “I got your number from the company directory.” But I decide to leave it at just that, and I press send. The response is almost instantaneous. A yellow bubble pops up on the screen.
S: Morning.
Ugh. That’s it? Morning? This was a bad idea.
C: Are we still on for practicing after class at your house?
S: Yeah. Why?
C: Can I ride with you to your house and can you bring me home when we’re done?
S: Yeah.
C: Thanks. See you in class then.
S: Yep.
Closing my eyes, I roll over and bury my face in a pillow. This is why I never take chances. Although, I suppose it could have gone worse than him answering in one-word sentences. I push myself up and head back to the kitchen when my stomach makes a rolling rumble. “Sebastian’s going to give me a ride from class to his house and then bring me home.” Mom’s sitting at the table, reading on her phone.
“That’s nice of him.” She doesn’t glance up. “But that doesn’t solve a thing, Claire.” Finally, she kicks her chair out from under the table, takes a few small steps to make her way to the coffee maker, and fixes another cup the same way she did her first. “You’ll still have the car, and I’ll still be stuck at work.”
“Dang it.” I let all the air escape, creating a blubbering sound. “Maybe I’ll just tell him I can’t do it today.”
“Don’t cancel your plans. Just work it out. Either have him pick you up here and take you to class or have him follow you to the store and you drop the car off after class.” She sits back down. “It’s an easy fix.” It may be an easy fix, but doesn’t she realize it’s an embarrassing one? Having to ask people to constantly do me favors and take me places in order to have a social life? A small laugh escapes.
“What’s so funny?”
“For a minute I kidded myself into thinking I had a social life.”
“What have I told you about putting yourself down?” She glares at me.
I shrug. “It’s not putting myself down. It’s a fact. Just stating reality.” I grab a banana from the counter and head back to my room. “I’ll just ask him to pick me up so you can have the car. That seems like the easiest thing.”
“I want to reiterate Sebastian Reyes is not allowed in this house when I’m not home.”
I stop in my tracks and stare at the ceiling. “Seriously, Mother? You sound like a broken record. Got it.”
“I want my voice playing in your mind like a broken record every time you’re tempted to let him inside, because you will be.”
Deep cleansing breaths. Taking the stalk of the banana, I peel the sides, pop it in my mouth, and shove a huge bite of the starchy fruit inside to keep me from saying something that will most likely get me in trouble before nodding, then walking in my room, closing the door.
A few minutes later, I toss the banana peel in the garbage and pick the phone back up. Here we go again. Wonder if I can get more than a word or two out of Sebastian this time? Mom’s conversation has me wanting to claw something all the while wanting to invite Sebastian in when he gets here later just to spite her.
Glancing at the door, I turn the lock on the knob. My cheeks start to warm at the thoughts swirling in my mind. Claire. What are you thinking, crazy girl? I tug my oversized, worn white T-shirt off my shoulder, tuck a few of the strands of my hair behind my ear, and look at myself in my camera. I try to simulate the same pose I see other girls do on Snapchat and Instagram. But this doesn’t look even remotely similar. If I sent this, the only type of reaction I can imagine it’d receive would be a great big all caps LOL.
But I remember last night he seemed to like my hair the way it was, and he sees me in tattered clothes all the time because that’s what we practice in, so I decide what the heck. I do my best pouty puppy dog face by sticking my bottom lip out and lifting my brows. My finger taps the button before I can change my mind and it’s done.
I click to send it via message, and my lips lift in a smile as I scroll until Sebastian’s name appears in the contacts.
C: I don’t know what I was thinking earlier. My mom has to work before class. Any way you can maybe pick me up before class? Pretty please?
S: Let me think about that for a minute.
C: Okay.
I nibble on my fingernail. That’s definitely more than one word, but I’m not sure what to make of that response.
S: Will you be wearing that, pretty girl?
Pretty girl? Something deep within me sends a sharp, electric current all the way to my core. What am I doing? My fingers seem to have a mind of their own, though.
C: Guess you’ll have to see for yourself.
S: What time does your mom leave for work?
C: In an hour.
But class doesn’t start for another hour and a half after that. Usually, I would get to the studio early. Robins has a loft in the building, and he keeps the place open every day almost all day for people to practice. Besides, there’s always some kind of class happening.
S: What time do you want me to pick you up?
C: Whenever.
What I can’t tell him is I can’t wait to be with him again, especially after this second round of texting. I rub the cotton of the shirt against my stomach. My eyes close and if I think hard enough, I can feel his hands on me instead of mine, his tongue exploring my mouth.
S: See you in an hour, then.
What? Tossing my phone to the side, I spring from the bed, unlock my door, and make a dash for our single bathroom. But apparently Mom beat me to it. The shower’s running. Great. Moping back to my room, I gather my tights and a new leotard for class while I wait for her to finish. I pull the elastic out of my hair and let the strands fall down my shoulders. In the mirror, I pretend Sebastian is behind me. He sweeps my hair to the side, his fingers gently brushing the delicate skin of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. He smiles as his lips trace the trail they left. “So pretty.”
“What are you doing?” Mom asks, holding a blue towel around her skinny, wet body and another twisted around her hair.
I nearly jump to the ceiling. My heart thumps so hard, like it’s a fish floundering out of the water. “Sheesh, you scared the crap outta me.” I cover my chest, as if that’s going to settle the racing.
“Is he picking you up or are you coming with me?”
I nod.
She stares at me, her patience clearly fleeing.
“Picking me up.”
“Okay.”
Please don’t remind me about not inviting him in. Please don’t remind me about not inviting him in. Please don’t remind me…whew, she walks away. Crap. She just took the towels. We usually share towels. Saves on laundry and detergent. Up until a few days ago, Mom and I got along fine. There were no issues really. And now I feel like everything is awkward and tense. Who knew? Even towels are a dreaded and potentially contentious subject.
Mom left for work about ten minutes ago and Sebastian still isn’t here yet. My dance bag is packed and on the couch. The old hardwood floors may give out at any moment from my pacing. It’s not like we’re going to be late. There’s plenty of time. Exhaling, I swipe my phone and check for text messages. Nothing. Surely he wouldn’t stand me up. I get a glimpse of the flowers in the kitchen and the corners of my lips tug up.
A ding causes me to jump, and I shake my head. This is what it feels like to be a skittish cat. I make my way to the door and peek through the curtains on the side window. Sebastian offers me a boyish grin as I unlatch the deadbolt. Every tense muscle in my body starts to relax. “You’re late.”
He scratches his head. “Did I say an exact time?”
“You said an hour.”
He stalks toward me, taking a step over the threshold. He palms the shirt over my leotard. “This is not what you promised in your preview. I’d call that false advertising.”
I drag in a breath as he kicks the door closed behind him. “Sebastian.”
“Huh?”
“We have to go.”
“Says who?” He plants a soft kiss on my neck.
“Mom.”
“She’s not here.”
“But.”
“We won’t stay long because we need to get to the studio, but let me see it on you.” He pulls the elastic from my hair just like I’d envisioned him doing earlier in my daydream. My heart starts to beat erratically. He arches a single brow and his lips form a crooked smile. “Pretty please.”
“You don’t hardly play fair.”
“You started it, Claire.”
He’s right. I did. I’m so out of my league, though. “Okay.” I put my hand on his chest. “I’ll be right back.”
Slipping past him into my room, I quickly strip out of my leotard and toss my night shirt on instead, letting it fall off my shoulder the way I had it in the picture. I slowly open the door. “I don’t know what the big deal is—”
