Page 24 of Kissing the Debutant
“You know what, I think I will have that milkshake and fries.” Lillian closed the menu and slid it across the table to Cara.
“Coming right up.”
Lillian stared at her phone wondering how her mother intended to ground her when they didn’t live together.
Lillian:I’m sorry, Mom. I just couldn’t work with that guy.
Mom:We’ll talk about that later. Right now you’re to go to class, ballet practice, and straight back to your dorm room. No hanging out with your friends. Homework and then bed. That’s it.
Lillian:So, same as my normal routine? No problem.
Lillian tossed her phone back in her bag, letting out a disgusted snort. She had bigger problems than lack of a suitable choreographer. Her own mother didn’t know her at all.
“Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy.” Cara placed an enormous milkshake in front of her along with a plate of fries. “My little ones discovered the fries are better dipped in the milkshake. It sounds awful, but it’s actually really good. You should try it.”
“Thanks, Cara. This looks yummy.” Lillian picked up a fry like she was going to eat it, but she dropped it back on the plate as soon as Cara left to seat an older couple waiting at the hostess stand.
Leaning forward, Lillian sniffed the plate of hot fries.
“Oh, that smells heavenly.” Her stomach growled in anticipation. “One won’t kill me.” She selected the largest fry on the plate and popped it into her mouth. It melted on her tongue, the burst of salt sent her taste buds into orbit. She enjoyed every moment of that one fry before she turned to her milkshake with chunks of fresh banana and ribbons of chocolate and peanut butter. She had to taste it. She took a small sip and couldn’t help the groan of satisfaction.
Her mother would probably send her to fat camp if she could see her indulging right now, but she didn’t care. There was more to life than ballet, right? There had to be, and Lillian was determined to experience everything she could before she decided to choose ballet… or reject it.
“One more fry.” She chose a smaller one this time, not thinking about the calories before she dipped the fry into her milkshake.
Cara’s kids were right, that was the best thing she’d ever tasted. She wanted to keep stuffing her face, but she had to meet with Jack. At least that was the excuse she was using to pull herself away from the food in front of her.
Lillian dropped a ten on the table for Cara and slid out of the booth.
“Look at that smile. See I told you milkshakes can cure anything. See you next time, honey,” Cara called as Lillian left the diner feeling better than she had when she went in.
* * *
“You’re here?” Jack’s face paled when Lillian entered the studio. “I mean.” He cleared his throat. “You’re here, we should get started.”
“I know, I’m surprised I showed up too.” Lillian followed him to the smallest studio in the back.
“I promise, this is going to be great.” Jack walked backward into the room, his eyes dancing with excitement.
“Just this once.” Lillian felt like she owed him that much after his help with the Claude situation the other day, but she was convinced this whole thing was a joke. She really needed to find her own choreographer if she had prayer of competing in a few weeks.
“Right, right,” Jack said, sounding like he didn’t believe her.
“Who’s this?” Lillian stopped at the center of the mirrored room, eyeing the girl with the curly brown hair.
“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just the camera girl,” she said.
“Mia, Lillian. Lillian, Mia,” Jack said by way of introduction.
“Oh, you’re the girlfriend.” Lillian nodded. “I’m just going to warm up while you two do whatever.” She dropped her bag in an empty chair, not bothering to change from her workout clothes.
Lillian went through her stretch routine, bending and flexing her long limbs in front of the mirrors. Running through each pose on autopilot, she let her mind wander. She moved on light feet, skimming the floor on her tiptoes before she ended with several jumps and leaps.
“That was beautiful,” Mia whispered in awe.
Lillian was used to people looking at her like that when they first saw her dance.
“Right. Okay.” Jack clapped his hands eagerly. “This is going to be fun, Lil. My documentary is not going to be some classical ballet showcase, and neither is your routine for the competition.” He pointed at her with a grin. His enthusiasm was kind of adorable. “We’re not choreographing anything stuffy and old school—”
