Page 67 of Surrender
“My brother James practically adopted him,” I said with a warm smile as I stepped up again. “Poor Nate never had a chance.”
And another.
“Especially when he showed up here one day with a split lip.”
A weight settled over me as I made the last few steps up to the landing that overlooked the living room.
“None of us really talked about it, but we’d all heard yelling that morning,” I explained, holding tight to the railing.
The second floor smelled a little damp, but that made sense with Callan saying there was a leak.
“After that, he practically became part of the furniture and the family.”
“You guys didn’t call social services or anything because of the abuse?” Rafe asked with a frown.
I shook my head. “James convinced my parents that him being next door at least meant they could watch out for him, but if he was taken away, who knows where he would have gone.”
“Your brother sounds fucking cool,” Rafe said quietly, and I finally forced myself to take those final steps to James’ room, thefirst on the right.
“He was,” I whispered, stepping through the doorway.
The door was open just a crack, enough for me to slip inside. I was still in my leotard, my tights torn at the knee, and I could barely keep the tears at bay.
James was sitting on a desk chair, twisting a football in his hands as he scanned the textbooks that were spread across his bed. I should have snuck back out and left him to study, but he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his attention to me.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.
“No.”
I closed the door behind me and slid down until my butt hit the floor with a thump. “I bombed it,” I said, wiping at my face with the back of my hand. “I bailed during the turn sequence and hit the floor so hard, you could hear the crowd gasp over the music.”
I could practically hear my dreams being squashed.
Juilliard and The Boston Conservatory had been on my vision board since I was seven. Not many people get to make a career out of dance, but those were two outstanding schools that could make it possible.
And I couldn’t dream of anything else.
Dance made me happy.
It told stories.
It expressed emotions.
It was technical and beautiful, and it challenged me in exciting ways.
When I danced, I knew it was exactly where I was meant to be, like the world made sense for those few minutes at a time. So falling flat on my ass in front of a crowd who came to see something far more beautiful felt more than just a mistake. Itfelt like all those dreams I had were being ripped away from me in the blink of an eye.
James leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, as always, unfazed by my dramatics. “Did you fall on your face?”
I blinked. “I… Wait, what?”
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Because if you didn’t, you’re already doing better than me. Last week, I tripped over my own cleats as we were running out onto the field. Literally ate grass in front of the crowd, my team, the other team, and the cheerleaders. Pretty sure there’s still turf stuck in my mouthguard.”
I let out a watery laugh, and he rolled his chair over, tapping his knuckles on my forehead. “We still won, though,” he teased with a grin. “You fell over, so what? It’s all about whether you get back up and keep going.”
Tears prickled at my eyes, but I smiled through them. “Dammit, I hate it when you get all wise and actually make sense.”
“I mean, it’s just a gift I have.” He stood up and held his hand out. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet, scruffing my hair. “And for the record, kid, you’re the most talented person I know. Juilliard’s going to be lucky to have you, even if you walk in there one day and spin yourself into a wall.”
