Page 49 of One Spicy Summer

Ry even took me on a virtual tour of their dorm and the university grounds.Watching him show it all off with that excited sparkle in his eyes made meactuallylook forward to college, something that used to terrify me. Sure, the thought of being that far from home still scares the crap out of me sometimes, but once I get past the homesickness, I know everything else will fall into place.

And so will my life with Ry.

Eager to wrap up dance class, I give it my all, trying to impress Madame Dupanchane. Since Ry left, I’ve thrown myself into practice, studying YouTube videos of my favorite ballet dancers, pushing myself harder than ever.

Spinning into a landing, and sticking it this time, I hear Madame Dupanchane call out, “That’s what I like to see! Now your head is in the moves.”I smile to myself, feeling lighter, and keep dancing all the way to the end of class.

“That was amazing work, Presley,” Carla, one of my classmates, says as we head off the floor.

"Yeah, you gotta show me how you nailed that move," Betty, who’s been dancing forever, adds.

“I’d be honored. Just tell me when.” I beam, tugging off my shoes and tucking them into my bag.

“We’ll set up a date soon, bellissima. Ciao for now.” Betty’s grin makes my heart lift.Wow. Betty actually talked to me... and said more than two words. Progress!

"I love the effort you’ve been putting in," Madame Dupanchane says as she passes by. "It seems your passion for dance has come back with a vengeance."

"It has," I say honestly. Dancing keeps my mind off missing Ry.

Even when I’m not talking to him, Rafe fills me in with a full play-by-play of Ry’s life not that I'd ever admit I secretly love it.

“Keep it up,” Madame Dupanchane adds. “You’ve caught the eyes of a few ballet scouts.”

I blink in surprise and glance around. "Wait... you mean the two girls I was just talking to?"

"Aren't I?" she smirks, strutting away like she just dropped a bomb.Leaving me standing there like a starstruck idiot.

No way is this really happening… Shoving the rest of my things into my bag, I glance at my watch, almost seven.About an hour before Ry FaceTimes me.

I practically sprint to my car.

Flying through the door when I get home, I barely hear Mom call out from the kitchen, "Your plate's on top of the oven when you're ready!"

My parents know the drill by now: after dance class, it’s Ry time. Sometimes I make it to dinner, but most nights, food comes second to talking to my boy.

Tonight's one of those nights.

I race upstairs, strip out of my clothes, and hop into the shower, making record time. Twenty minutes later, I’m clean, dressed, and perched on my bed, phone in hand, waiting.

But the call never comes.

Ten minutes turn into thirty.Thirty turns into an hour.

Nerves crawling up my spine, I open my messages and fire off a quick text.

Me: Hey, Ry, is everything okay?

I check the volume. Perfect. Still nothing.

Starting to panic, I call Rafe. He answers just as I’m about to hang up. “Hello?” he shouts over loud music, clearly at a party or a club.

“Rafe, have you seen Ry?” I yell back.

“Yeah, like three hours ago! He was all hyped for ‘date night,’ like you guys call it. I made myself scarce.”I go quiet. Tonight was supposed to beournight, oursexynight.

“Presley, what’s wrong?”

“He never called, Rafe. I think something’s wrong.”I canfeelit in my gut, Ry would never ghost me unless he had no choice.

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