Page 3 of Crash
“Tessa is a featured dancer at Friday night’s dance spotlight held at the theater. You should come check her out. I mean, I need a ride, so you may as well tag along.”
“Your brother does not want to see my boring-ass routine. Besides, I told you I can drive, but you’ll be there like all day.”
I watch her from my rearview. Her words bounce off my eardrums like flower petals falling to the ground. Soft but noticeable. The way her eyes express emotion and her lips curl when she speaks is sensual. But this is my sister’s best friend, and I shouldn’t be thinking like this let alone feeling conflicted.
“Oh, I don’t mind seeing what you’ve been working on. I’m sure your ass isn’t boring. I meant your dance, not your actual—”
They both giggle at my blunder, but she bites her bottom lip then slowly licks it. I shake my head and look away.
“Dang, you checking out my bestie or something?” Courtney jokes.
Tessa strikes her in the arm and coyly turns her head in the other direction.
“Nice shot,” I say, in response to her hit.
Our gazes lock in the rearview, and she smiles at my remark. I return the gesture before slowly redirecting my focus.
These two have been friends since the seventh grade. Tessa’s family relocated here from LA when her father’s job expanded offices. He’s a retired lawyer now, but they still have the house across the street from our family home. Somehow, on Sunday’s we all manage to go to our parents’ home to enjoy dinner and spend time with them. Courtney usually ends up over there or Tessa at our family’s place working on dance moves. They’re as thick as friends can be, and though not related, Tessa’s like a little sister to me.
I pull into Tessa’s driveway and shut the engine off. “Okay, Tessa, you’re home.” I step out to open her door.
“Thank you,” she says, exiting the vehicle.
I take her dance bag from her and walk her to the door.
“Austin, you don’t have to do this.”
“Oh, I know. I do it for Courtney, too. I guess I’m nice like that.”
She smiles again, seeming oddly nervous while searching for her keys. I’ve watched her grow up over the past twelve years and have never noticed her features. Not sure why I am now.
“Did you color your hair?” I ask, my thoughts manifesting aloud.
“Umm, no. This is my natural shade, including the highlights.” She takes her hand and sweeps her tendrils behind her ear. Her cheeks, with a slight smattering of freckles, give way to an emerging smile. She fumbles for a few minutes before the door finally opens.
“Thank god. I’ve got to pee,” Courtney says, as she rushes past us.
“Well, you can come in and wait while the Court uses the facilities.” Tessa steps to the side and shows me in, closing the door behind me.
She has a picture of Misty Copeland above her gray linen couch, Alvin Ailey dance troupe on another wall, and Debbie Allen on another.
“I’ve never been inside your home. It’s very pretty. You must like dancing?” I joke.
“Thanks. In fact, I love dancing. Something about using your body to portray emotions fascinates me. Always has.”
“Whew, I didn’t think I’d make it all the way home,” Courtney says, when she reenters the room. “You ready to go, driver?” she adds.
I can’t take my gaze off the picture of Tessa resting on the entertainment center. “Yeah, we can go. See you tomorrow, Tessa,” I announce, as I open the door.
“Oh, so you’re coming after all?” she questions, shoving her hands into her pockets while we stand at the threshold.
“Why not? I’d love to see you perform. Besides, Courtney needs a chaperone, apparently.”
She giggles, and the sound stops my heart for about two seconds when she doesn’t look away but instead directly at me.What is going on with me?
“Great. I want your complete and honest opinion.”
“You got it. See ya.”
