As You Turn Away (The Walker Boys) (34 page)

His mother nodded, and Jonah walked out of the house and into the fall afternoon. Reece and Ethan were waiting at his car, talking, but they both straightened, and went quiet as he approached. Jonah didn’t know what to say to either of them that he hadn’t already said. He’d told them already he had their backs, and that he loved them. That he was so grateful to have gotten to know them again this summer.

“This was our summer, you know that?” He said quietly. “But just because I’m going to school don’t mean it’s over. I’ll be back and we’ll be the Walker boys again.”

He pulled both of his brothers into hugs, and before he could change his mind, Jonah got into the car. Revving the engine, he pulled onto the driveway, and down the road, waving a hand out the window to his brothers. He didn’t look in the rearview, but he knew if he had he’d have seen them watching him leave.

His mother’s voice cut off as the screen door slammed shut behind him. Jonah hitched his bag across his shoulders and pushed himself faster. The ache in his chest loosened with every step he put between himself and his childhood home. He’d left them sitting around the big, wooden table, four shocked faces drained of color after his announcement. It killed a part of him to leave, but he couldn’t stay.

Quinn was gone; he’d went to her house today and her father told him she’d already left. She was following the dream that meant more to her than he did. She was making a life without him, and Jonah had to make one without her.

No matter how much it hurt.

“Joe!”

He stopped at Reece’s voice thundering toward him. One hand curled into a fist as Jonah turned to face his brother. Those angry blue eyes held so many emotions—and all of them circled back to disappointment.

“I’m going no matter what you say.” He lifted his chin, even though he felt like Reece’s gaze was ripping him to shreds.

“I know you are. You’re impulsive to a fault.” Reece crossed his arms over his chest. “This about Reynolds?”

Jonah’s mouth spasmed and he flattened his lips into a thin line. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

“Thought so.”

Reece gazed out over their land, the farm Jonah knew his dad was counting on one of them someday taking over—and while that was fine for one of his brothers, it wouldn’t be Jonah. He was eager to be gone as soon as he could. He’d accepted the offer to go to college in Atlanta, and he needed to begin the process of walling himself off from anyone who could hurt him. Staying here felt a lot like wasting time. Living in this house, this town, wrestling with his brothers, farming with his dad…it all made him weaker.

“Don’t go.” Reece’s words were simple, and pitched low in a husky tone, but Jonah heard him clearly.

“I have to.” Jonah’s throat ached, but he shoved forward. “I have to get away from here. There are too many memories, and too much hurt. I’ll come back someday when I’m better, but for now I need space from everyone. Before I self-destruct.”

Reece’s brows knitted together. “You think you can just drop this in our laps and run? You can’t go off and cut us out of your life. What about Pop? What about Ma?”

Jonah steeled himself. “They’ll be fine. You’re here, and so is Ethan. No one here needs me, and I don’t need anyone here. For anything.”

He could see from his brother’s reaction he’d answered incorrectly. Reece stalked closer to Jonah until he was bumping Jonah’s chest. His eyes burned into Jonah’s, and Jonah felt the first stirring of shame.

“You leave like this,” Reece said, very slowly and clearly, “don’t bother coming back.”

“I have to go—”

Reece spat on the ground between them, and then put his back to Jonah. He walked away without a backward glance. The door clicked closed behind him, and Jonah stood frozen, waiting for his brother to reappear. To tell him he hadn’t meant it. That this was something they could work through, get around. That they’d be okay.

Jonah stared at the closed door until he finally realized Reece wasn’t coming back outside. He sighed and threw his bag in the trunk, then climbed behind the wheel.

He spun as much gravel as he could when he left.

The melody twined like ribbons around Quinn, the sounds pulsing through her in time to her heartbeat. She lifted into an arabesque, holding the position to the count of five, and then lowered until the soles of her shoes touched the floor again. But she still felt like she was flying as the music surrounded her. Until today, she hadn’t danced in months, and she hadn’t known if she even still
could
until she walked into the studio.

But the moment she approached the barre for her warm-up stretches, something she hadn’t realized was missing clicked into place. She’d taken the bourrees, those hummingbird-quick stepping motions as if she’d never paused, never lost the tempo the night of her accident. With every turn, she felt the music thrum more deeply within her, until she felt like she was wrapped securely in the notes—and they were taking her somewhere else, just like always.

Only this time, dancing wasn’t an escape, because this time she had so much to come back to. Eventually, she came down, ending in a bow. She was out of breath and sweaty. She ached from the exertion, and she’d way overdone it, but she also felt amazingly alive.

“Thank you, Quinn.” The music faded into the background as the volume was lowered, and Marie Hastons walked into view.

Quinn focused on her shoes for a moment, and then finally raised her head. “I know it isn’t from any classical ballet.” Quinn touched a hair to her bun, even though it was secure. “I’ve spent a lot of time the last few days listening to ballet music and some contemporary music, planning the steps and I wasn’t sure I could do it…”

“You hadn’t danced that routine before today?” Marie raised a dark eyebrow.

“No.” Quinn shook her head. “I was afraid to try before today…afraid I’d lose my nerve. I haven’t danced since my accident. In fact, I just got clearance from my doctor today to begin again, and I think I did enough for today.” She laughed softly.

Marie leaned against the barre. Her own hair was tied in a perfect ballerina bun, her leotard visible under the t-shirt and yoga pants she wore over it. “Well, I am impressed.” She nodded slowly. “Really impressed. I wondered if you’d learned anything useful studying in New York.” She shook her head, a small smile showing on her features. “You were without a doubt one of my best students, but there’s a world of difference between here, and New York City. So many companies to choose from, and you never know who holds to the classics, and who is so over-inflated by ego that they don’t respect where ballet came from.”

Quinn nodded, trying to subtly wipe her palms on her leotard. She walked over to where her former teacher stood, and reached for Marie’s hand. She met the older woman’s steel gray eyes, remembering the many late nights she’d spent here to avoid going home. How many times she’d danced until she ached.

“I danced with a wonderful company in terms of quality of their productions, but they were all business and very little heart. I learned a lot, and became a better dancer, but I wasn’t a better
person
until I came home.”

“I know, Quinn. I’m just a grumpy old woman who is in desperate need of an assistant, and I don’t want anyone but you.” Marie’s smile widened.

“So I’ve got the job?” Quinn jumped up and spun in her excitement, Marie’s laughter ringing out. “Oh Marie! This is amazing.” She leaned forward and hugged the other woman. Marie put her arms around Quinn after a hesitation, and Quinn squeezed her tightly.

Marie brushed stray hair away from Quinn’s face. “When you came home this summer and I saw you around town, you seemed so much
lighter
, Quinn. So happy. But I knew you probably weren’t dancing, and I want you to always be able to express yourself in that way. So if you’re agreeable to my terms, you can start next week.”

Quinn swallowed. “What are your terms?”

“Oh, they’re very strict—you
must
uphold them no matter what. Show up with a smile every day. Help me choreograph wonderful routines for the children and teenagers who take lessons here. And always, always make time for your own dancing, even if it’s just for yourself. And have
fun
, Quinn.”

“I-I can definitely do that!” Quinn put a hand to her mouth to try to hold back the laughter, but it pealed out anyway. “You’ve made my day, Marie. I swear I won’t let you down. I have so many ideas.” She flicked away the tears that were gathering in the corners of her eyes, but did nothing to try to quell the welling in her heart. “I think ballet saved my life once,” she said quietly, “and it means the world to be involved in it again.”

Her phone buzzed, but she didn’t look, thinking it was probably Darren checking in. She leaned into Marie, giving her mentor another quick hug. “I’m going to run home and tell my dad the news, but I—oh I’m so excited!”

Marie smiled widely, patting Quinn’s arm. “I can tell. Now get out of here and get living.”

~~~~~

Quinn finished towel drying her hair, and got dressed quickly, slipping on tights and a dress. She blew dry her hair while trying to stop smiling, barely able to believe something had fallen into place for her in such an unexpected way. When her dad told her he’d heard Marie was looking for an assistant, Quinn went to talk to her ex-teacher on a whim. They’d ended up talking for two hours, with Quinn opening up to Marie about why she’d left home, and what brought her back. In between tears, she’d told Marie all about dancing in New York, and Marie had asked her to audition right then and there.

It was an odd feeling, to feel so raw and open, but also so
full
, but Quinn was slowly getting used to it.

She sat on her bed, more than a bit overwhelmed with the events of the last few days. She felt like she was changing more with every minute that passed; already, she felt like the girl she’d been a few days before was long gone. After she told her father and Darren everything, they all talked together, and her dad cried and held her. Since then they’d had several other talks, including one where he finally convinced Quinn to see a grief counselor. She was nervous about going, but he was coming with her, at least for the first appointment.

Quinn scrolled through her phone, answering a text from Lanie, and giving Darren an earful about the dirty joke he’d sent her. She had one notification left when she realized it was a text from Jonah. Familiar adrenaline bubbled in her stomach as she hesitated. She wasn’t sure what to do about him. She wanted to be with him, but she wanted to respect his wishes that she work through her issues.

She opened the text, and as soon a she read his words, she was on her feet. She hurriedly texted him back, unsure if he’d even see it, her hands shaking. She shoved her phone in her dress pocket, grabbed her purse and ran downstairs. She vaguely heard her father ask where she was going, but she was out the door and in his car by the time his words registered.

Quinn sped through town, driving faster than she should have. She flipped on her headlights as she left her neighborhood and headed into town. Her heart was a prisoner slamming against the bars of her chest, demanding to be let out, and she tried to keep her breathing under control. But when she turned into Jonah’s apartment complex, he wasn’t there, and she reversed quickly, cursing. She increased her speed, aware of the irony that this time it was
her
racing to stop
him
from leaving.

The car started sputtering before she reached the highway; by the time she was nearing the turn for Jonah’s drive, she had to pull over on the side of the road. It was drizzling now, and Quinn stepped into the cool evening, grabbing her things and slamming the door behind her. She broke into a jog, her breath a sharp gasp by the time Jonah’s childhood home came into view. The driveway was cluttered with vehicles, but she didn’t even pause to look at them. She kept running, onto the porch where she finally stopped, and rapped on the door.

The door opened, and Reece stood framed in the doorway, looking out at her from behind his glasses.

“Reece,” she wheezed. “I got Jonah’s text late, and the—the car broke down on the way here, so I ran.”

Reece stepped onto the porch, slowly closing the screen door behind him. He put a hand on her shoulder, directing her to the porch swing. “Reynolds, hey.” He pushed gently on her until she sat. “Jonah left for Atlanta a few hours ago.”

Quinn slumped against the slats of the swing, all her nervous energy draining away until she felt hollow. “But I came when I got his text. I’m here
now
, I just, was working on what he said and what to say before now and—” Her voice shattered like china striking a hardwood floor.

“He had to go.” Reece filled the silence for her.

Quinn sagged, hating Reece’s tone, and the fact she was too late. She knew Jonah would be back—leaving for school this time didn’t mean leaving forever. But now she was facing the possibility that once again they wouldn’t be part of each other’s lives. She wanted to fix them even if they had to stay friends, but for that she had to see him, talk to him, and touch him.