Page 12 of The Perfect Catch

Dax frowned, his finger tracing over the sheet as he found the class she wanted and saw the time. “I’m sorry, Bree, but that’s right when I work. I wouldn’t be able to bring you to class. Ballet would work, though, or even the hip-hop on Tuesday nights.” His voice sounded strained, like he was out of his element or just couldn’t believe he was doing this. From his comment about knowing only athletes during Senior Committee the other day, I was surprised he was even here in the first place.

“I could pick her up if you want. I teach the cheer class for the younger group, and it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

Bree’s grin couldn’t be any wider, and she clasped her hands together, silently pleading with Dax.

He shook his head. “No, we can’t do that to you. It’s not like we live close enough to here that she could walk home after the class is over.”

“That’s the only class I teach on Thursdays, so it’s not a problem,” I said, giving him a small smile. I was surprising myself at how much I wanted him to say yes. Maybe it was my love of dance and cheer that made me want all little girls to have the chance to do it. Or maybe it was that I wanted to help Dax out.

“We just need a parent signature right here,” I said, grabbing a paper with a clipboard and pen. “You can take this home if you want and bring it back.”

Dax took the paper from me, looking over the sheet. “Yeah, our dad just got back this morning, so we’ll have him sign it and she can bring it in during the first class.” He scanned the paper for something and then glanced at me. “What are the prices?”

“It’s thirty-six dollars a month for one class at her age, and then it goes up for more classes.” I watched as he mumbled something, his eyes going to the ceiling as he tried to figure out some invisible problem.

Blowing out a breath, he glanced down at Bree. “I think I can make that work, sis.”

Bree jumped up and down like she’d never been more excited about anything in her life.

I tried to figure out what he meant by that. “You can pay with cash, check, or card. Just bring it with you, or you can pay now.”

“I get paid this week, so I’ll have to pay then.” Dax’s face was solemn, so different from the arrogance I saw from him before.

“Okay, sounds good.” I turned to Bree. “I’ll pick you up a little after school on Thursday. Are you excited?”

Bree nodded, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around my legs. “Thank you so much.”

“Okay, just wear a white t-shirt and some black shorts to workouts. We haven’t done fittings for the uniform yet, but that’s scheduled for this week, so it’s good timing.”

Rubbing his face, Dax wiggled his jaw back and forth. “Sorry, but how much does the uniform cost?”

“I don’t have exact numbers, but I think it’s usually around two hundred.”

Dax sucked in a breath and nodded, looking like that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for. “Okay. That helps to know. Uh, well, I’ll see you in school.” He placed his hand on Bree’s back and gently led her out of the studio. He quickly glanced back at me, and I smiled, more and more surprised by Dax each time I saw him.

Maybe he wasn’t the bad boy everyone had labeled him as.

Chapter 9

Dax

“Cheerleading, huh?” I asked Bree as we got back in the car.

“I really want to learn how to do all the cool tricks they do, and Vanessa said she’s in cheerleading and loves it. It sounds like so much fun, Dax.” Bree took a long breath after spilling the words out.

I nodded. “We’ll figure it out. Hopefully we don’t have to pay for any competitions. That might be more than I can do right now.”

Bree’s face fell. “If it’s too much, I can try something else.” The sadness in her voice made my heart crack.

I reached across and rubbed my hand over her hair, causing her to duck out of the way and frown at me. “We’ll be fine, Bree-bug.”

As we drove home, I just hoped that raise would come through from Doc. I could use every little penny to help me pay for my baseball, soccer for Karsten, and dance for Bree.

* * *

Monday came fasterthan I expected, and I wasn’t ready for a new week to start. My father had left early that morning, and it had been a relatively calm weekend with him home. He’d spent more on beer to last him the time he was there, but I’d learned better than to say anything about it. The bruise on my jaw from Trent was slowly healing, and I didn’t need to go to school with a black eye to cause questions.

Fighting at school was one thing because everyone knew what the bruise was from. But getting hit by my father was more difficult to explain away. Plus, I didn’t need a black eye to be immortalized in my first, and probably only, dance pictures.

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