The Hit List (18 page)

She sighs. “I must have dialed you by accident.”

Of course. Because who would just expect their mom to call on their birthday?

“I won’t keep you then,” I bite out.

Something shuffles against her phone and I picture her moving it to her other ear and holding it with her shoulder while she looks for a piece of paper in her bag. “What’s with the attitude?”

Like she even has the right to ask.

“Nothing. I’m just stressed. Things aren’t going the greatest with my partner.”

There’s silence for a few seconds before her voice comes back strangely calm. “You’re dating someone?”

“No, Mother. I’m not dating anyone.”

She would think that.

I hear her intake of breath, getting ready to berate me for being rude to her. I end the call before she has the chance and toss the phone back on the blanket.

L. A. was going okay for a while, but now everything is falling down around me. I don’t have anyone I can talk to about this. Patrick was my go-to for everything bad in my life.

Not anymore. He doesn’t care anymore.

But he could. He did text me asking how L. A. was going.

I grab my phone off the blanket. Without thinking about it, I type out a reply to Patrick’s text from last month.

I hate L. A. The people suck. I want to come home. I miss New York. I miss you
.

I stare at the words on my phone. I shouldn’t send it. He was trying to be nice. He doesn’t actually care. He probably just wanted to know why he hasn’t heard from me in so long since I called him or texted him all the time before I left. He just never answered before.

I can’t send it.

I delete the draft before I convince myself it’s completely okay to send it.

“Fuck.” I drop my phone back onto the blanket and rest my head in my hands.

“Rough day?” Adam stands at the edge of the blanket.

I lean back to look up at him. “You could say that.”

“Can I sit?” He gestures to the blanket.

“Sure.” I slide over to give him room.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I watch people walk by on the sidewalk down by the street. The fighting couple is done. Traffic has slowed as the evening drags on. A guy throws a Frisbee for his dog in another section of the lawn. A girl has an easel set-up nearby and she works to capture the coloring of the sky as a storm rolls in on the horizon.

“I heard someone lied to get your name crossed off The Hit List.” His eyes follow the dog as it runs across the lawn and back to its owner.

“You saw the post?” I didn’t think he followed that blog anymore.

He shrugs. “And I heard a couple girls talking about it in the hallway.”

Fabulous. Now I’m a new source of gossip. I can’t win here.

He cocks his head to the side and squints his left eye to block out the sun. “Honestly? I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Fall Showcase is coming up. People don’t have time to be messing around with that game. It’ll just fade away once everyone’s focus shifts.”

I hope he’s right.

The conversation drifts into silence again. A breeze has picked up and it blows at the edges of the blanket. The corner flips over my leg and I kick it off. The sun has reached the horizon. It was still pretty high in the sky when I sat down.

“What’s going on with you and Luke?” Adam plays with a piece of grass.

That seems to be the million-dollar question.

I sigh. “I don’t even know. We’re all over the place.”

He rips the blade of grass into smaller pieces and sprinkles them back onto the lawn. “Luke’s being dumb because you’re not like every other girl he’s gone after.”

“And you know something about the girls he usually goes after?” I run my fingers over the scraps of grass on the blanket.

“I used to be really good friends with Luke. We grew up together. He was a good guy before he found out he could date eighty percent of the girls in L. A. without a problem.” He tosses the remaining pieces of grass back onto the lawn and leans back on his hands.

It’s hard to picture Luke before he was a flirt. That’s what I know him as. It wouldn’t be normal for him not to flirt with every girl he saw.

“You’re a challenge to him and he doesn’t know how to deal with that. The feelings he has for you probably scare the shit out of him.”

They scare the shit out of me too, but I can’t tell him that. “How would you know?”

“Do you remember Jake? He was at the fundraiser.” Adam turns to look at me, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands.

I don’t know why we’re changing the subject. I’m so hung up on my own problems right now. I don’t think I can handle Adam’s, too.

“Brielle said he was your boyfriend.”

He laughs. “Something like that.”

“Who is he, then?”

“I met Jake years ago when we were both still in high school. He did some acting and we met during a class. We had an instant connection, got along really well, and started dating. We dated through high school, but when we went off to college, he said he didn’t want any attachments because he didn’t know what would happen over the next few years.”

“Ouch.”

I don’t want to hear this story. It feels too much like Patrick. I can’t handle listening about how Adam was left heartbroken because Jake didn’t love him as much as he thought.

“Yeah. So, anyway. Jake doesn’t really define himself as anything.”

Shitty things happen to the nicest people. It’s just not fair.

“Jake slept around a lot his first year of college. Boys. Girls. It didn’t really matter as long as they could give him what he needed.” He leans forward and brushes off his hands. He looks so sad as he talks about Jake leaving him on the sidelines to go do whatever he wanted.

I frown. “Wait, so I don’t get it. Aren’t you guys off and on?”

He smiles and runs a hand through his hair. It falls back to its original spot as soon as his hand is gone. “We talk religiously once a week. Every few months when he’s tired of his life, he’ll come back to me. And it’ll be great for a few months before the cycle starts over.”

“Why do you put up with it?” I can’t believe Adam would let Jake walk all over him while sitting around waiting for him to come back. There are so many other options out there for him.

His smile fades. It’s easy to tell their situation doesn’t make him happy. “I have to trust that he’ll come back to me. It’s a balancing act we’ve got going. I let him do what he needs to do and he always comes back to me eventually. It might not be perfect, but I’ll take it.”

That’s crazy. I don’t think I could ever have that kind of relationship with someone. Not that I can have any kind of relationship with anyone. I always find ways to screw them up.

“We choose who we trust, Sadie. People have to earn that trust, but we give it away, too. At some point, you have to decide if it’s worth holding yourself back. What are you missing out on? Maybe your trust will be abused, but you never really know until you try.”

I know he’s right. I know I have to start showing Luke that I can trust him. I just don’t know how. But if I don’t start soon, Fall Showcase is going to be a disaster.

Adam smiles at me before pushing himself up off the ground. “I’m going to go find Brielle. Have a happy birthday.”

I smile up at him. “Thanks, Adam.”

If I don’t learn to trust Luke, then the only one I’m hurting is myself. I’m killing my chance at a future with dancing. And I’m ruining his chances, too. I won’t be able to live with myself if I’m the reason he doesn’t get into Fall Showcase. He deserves that much.

THE HIT LIST UPDATE

October 13

It appears that we’ve had a case of mistaken identity. One of our girls was accidentally crossed off the list prematurely. It’s been corrected below to show who is still available for points. On the plus side, our top spot is open again!

There you have it. Good luck and happy hitting!

~ THE HIT MAN

11

The sun shines through the studio window as people wander the streets below. It feels wrong that it should be so bright when I’m having such a shitty morning.

“Are you okay?” Brandon stands beside me. I didn’t even hear him enter the studio. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine. Just a little stressed.”

“I hear sex helps reduce stress.”

Jesus Christ. Of course he would know that my name is back on The Hit List.

I hold up my hand. “I’m not interested. So stop. Stop with the lingering touches. Stop with the sexual remarks. Just stop.”

His face contorts to one of barely controlled rage. “You’re not even worth this.” He walks across the studio.

“Good. You don’t deserve anyone’s points anyway. Leave me the hell alone.” I don’t think he heard me, but I don’t really care.

A backpack slides across the floor behind me. Luke.

“Hey.” His voice is softer than usual. Maybe it’s because he hates me. Or maybe because he’s not sure how mad I am after I saw him blatantly trying to get points for someone.

“Hey.” I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how uncertain I am.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

I shrug, trying not to show any emotion. He doesn’t know that I blamed him for my name getting crossed off The Hit List. Now that it’s come out as a mistake, I feel guilty for even thinking he would screw me over that way. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” He leans against a chair.

“It’s seriously fine.” I’d rather just forget about it and fix this partnership. We still need to dance together.

“So, yeah, I’m sorry,” he says.

Miss Tasha walks into the room at that moment. Brandon trails close behind.

“Please tell me that today’s practice is going to be the best you’ve ever had. You guys are already behind everyone else. We can’t afford to lose another day. At this rate, you’ll never be ready for Fall Showcase tryouts in less than two weeks.” She crosses her arms over her chest and pushes her hip out. She reminds me of Brielle when she gets impatient.

She’s technically talking to both of us, but she looks at me for most of her little speech. I get it. I’m the one that screws up rehearsal the majority of the time.

“I don’t see why we would have any problems.” I’m determined to prove to all of them that I can do this.

Brandon smiles at me and I glare back at him. If he gets handsy today, I may punch him.

I step farther out of Brandon’s reach. Even after everything I’ve been through with Luke, Brandon is worse, in my opinion.

He grins back at me. “I’ll stand in for Luke if you need me to.”

“Yeah, I bet you will.” Luke steps in between us to give me a barrier.

Miss Tasha uncrosses her arms and clasps her hands together. Brandon and Luke turn to look at her. “Great. Then let’s get warmed up so we can run through choreography and make this routine the best it can be by four.”

I can feel it, today is going to be a good practice. Our partnering is going to be amazing. We’re going to nail this.

“Let’s do this.” Miss Tasha presses a button on the remote.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve told myself this will be okay and that we’ll do well. The second Luke steps behind me, my heart slams against my ribs.

“What are you waiting for?” There’s an edge to Miss Tasha’s voice already. Three hours is going to feel like three years if she’s like this for the entire rehearsal.

“Just wait.” Luke matches Miss Tasha’s tone.

Miss Tasha looks like she wants to say something to him, but doesn’t. She huffs and walks to the front of the room to watch us in the mirror.

“You can do this. Don’t worry about her. Take your time.” He runs his hand along my arm.

I shiver at the touch. I don’t want to like the way it feels, but I’m sick of lying to myself. But that means that I might be okay with the idea of liking Luke. I don’t know if I’m willing to admit that to myself yet.

Luke watches me with concern. I can’t tell if it’s normal partner concern or if it’s girl-I-care-aboutas-more-than-a-partner concern. Does it really matter?

I want to say no, but I know the answer is yes. How is this happening to me again?

I take another deep breath, but all the oxygen in the world can’t keep my lungs from seizing. Luke’s hands find my chest and stomach. The heat of his palm through my tank top sends little chills outward across my skin.

“Okay, I’m ready.” As ready as I’ll ever be, anyway.

Miss Tasha nods and pushes play. The music fills the studio and I start to dance with Luke. Every touch feels bigger than it is. Everything has a bigger meaning than it did ten minutes ago. My anxiety amps up to a whole new level. Luke can probably feel me shake every time he touches me.

Miss Tasha pauses the music when we stop.

I don’t give her a chance to tell us how much we suck. I don’t know how to explain that this is different than all the other times I’ve freaked out. Luke’s hands all over my body freak me out for an entirely different reason now.

“I need to take a break.”

I can’t shake the feeling even after I leave the studio and stand in the hallway. I pull deep breaths into my lungs. My skin is on fire, but it’s cold to the touch. Goosebumps cover my arms and legs.

Luke steps through the doors. “Are you okay?”

He’s genuinely concerned, but I need to be away from him right now. “I just need a minute. Please.”

He doesn’t say anything. The door clicks back into place behind him.

I lean my head against the wall and count my breaths. What the hell is wrong with me? If I’m not afraid he’s going to drop me, then what am I afraid of?