Page 89 of Running Winter

"So, what do you do, Heather?" Mom asked, sinking to a deep hammock-style swing, folding her legs as she did.

I dragged a stool between my legs, sighing with irritation.

"I study dance locally at the moment." Heather smiled, sipping her drink.

That explains her flexibility, I thought wryly.

"Locally? Winterburg isn't exactly Hollywood," Mom chuckled as Heather nodded.

"I know. I'm moving to California in a few months to study there—they have an amazing program at Cal Arts, and luckily I got accepted!"

I stared at her in shock—it was common knowledge that Cal Arts was the place to study if you danced seriously.

She must be good.

Not only that—she was moving to Cali too?

Fuck.

"I love dancing.” Mom smiled, placing her glass on the table between us. "What's your favorite style?"

"Contemporary," Heather replied instantly, and Mom nodded her approval. "I like the fact it is more relaxed than classical dance, yet it still allows me to use my ballet skill."

"What do you want to do after that? You're a little older than Rafe, right?"

Heather nodded, glancing back over at me. We exchanged a heated glance—which Mom didn’t miss—before Heather continued.

"I'm twenty-two. I applied to Cal Arts when I was nineteen, but I just wasn't good enough. So I focused on improving."

"You didn't give up; I admire that,” Mom said, still avoiding my gaze.

"No. Well, it's what I am. I've danced since I was three."

"Your parents must be so proud," Mom exclaimed, draining her glass.

"Well, my mom died when I was twelve," Heather said, dropping her guard slightly.

My head snapped up with surprise, and this time Mom met my gaze with irritated eyes.

I didn’t know that about Heather, which indicated to my Mom that I was just with her for sex.

Shit.

"I'm sorry," Mom said quietly, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I didn't know that." I swallowed, feeling like a dick. We just hadn't had any sort of conversation like that. "Sorry to hear that, babe."

Heather smiled faintly, and for a brief moment, our eyes met, and I saw a vulnerability there that I'd not seen before. But then, she looked away, and I wanted to reach out and touch her, to comfort her.

"But onwards and upwards.” Mom beamed, leaning forwards and clasping her hands together. "What do you want to do when you leave Cal Arts?"

"I'd love to do Broadway shows.” Heather laughed, leaning back into her chair. I gazed at her again, and Mom clocked it.

"You can do anything you set your mind to, right, Rafe?"

I snapped my attention back to the present and nodded.

"Yeah. Of course."

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