Page 60 of Kissing the Debutant
“Someone like me?” He snorted. “Poor? Uncultured? A sad excuse for a choreographer?” As her mom would say.
“No.” She closed the distance between them, stopping in front of him but not reaching out. “I don’t think any of those things about you.” Tears shone in her eyes, and he hated that he’d made her cry. That he couldn’t make it better.
“I’m not good with lies, Lil.”
“It’s not a lie. You’re kind, Jack. And talented, so talented I don’t even think you realize it. I don’t care that your Jeep is falling apart or that the Ivy League is not in your future.”
“But your world cares.” He rubbed a hand across his face, exhaustion weighing him down. “And that’s what matters, isn’t it? High school will be over soon, and we won’t be able to pretend dance is the most important thing connecting us.” His chest tightened as the words left his mouth. “Your solo dance is finished. It’s perfect, Lil, but it means you don’t need me anymore.”
“Jack.” Her voice shook.
He put a hand on each of her shoulders, knowing this was for the best. That he was doing the right thing. Lillian didn’t belong in his world any more than he belonged in hers. She was going to be a great dancer if that was what she wanted.
He bent to look her in the eye. “I need you to make me two promises.”
She nodded wordlessly.
“Don’t let your mom take this competition from you. You’ve worked too hard, and you’re too good.”
She swallowed. “And the second?”
He smiled, trying to keep his heart from beating right out of his chest. “Always remember, dancing is supposed to be fun.”
Tears slipped from her eyes, and he pulled her into a hug. She gripped his shirt like it was her lifeline. His own eyes glassed over.
One day, he’d remember the short time he’d had with the pretty ballerina, the girl who was too good for him, but chose him anyway.
And maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.
But right now, as he kissed her forehead and told himself this was for the best, he wasn’t so sure.
21
Jack
Jack pushed a french fry across his plate, creating whorls of ketchup around the cheddar burger he didn’t feel like eating.
“Dude, who kicked your puppy?” Mia snatched the fry from his hand and popped it in her mouth.
“I’m fine.” Jack leaned back against the smooth vinyl booth of their regular table at the Main.
“I’ve never seen you struggle with girl trouble, so you need to spill it. What happened at that fancy ball thing?”
“Nothing.” Jack ran a hand through his hair.
“That sad sappy look on your face isn’t nothing.”
“It’s just…” Jack picked up the cold burger, taking a huge bite. “I’m not good enough for her.”
“I’m sorry, what was that crap you just said? I’m sure I didn’t hear you correctly because it sounded like you said you’re not good enough for her.”
“It just became abundantly clear that I don’t belong in her world.” Jack shrugged, taking another tasteless bite of his favorite cheeseburger.
“Maybe her world of debutant balls isn’t your thing, but that girl adores you, and what she thinks is all that matters.” Mia narrowed her dark eyes at him. “Don’t put words in her mouth if some rich jerk-face said something douchey. It doesn’t mean she agrees.”
“The fact that she brought me there just to make her mom mad might change your high opinion of her.” Jack drained the Coke in his glass, refusing to meet his best friend’s gaze.
“Even if she did, it doesn’t change how she feels about you.”
