Page 95 of Player
The part my father shaped.
"Whatever your decision, you'll need to give it to me before your discharge," he concludes.
37
DIXIE
I smoothmy hands over the fabric of my skirt again. I splurged a little when buying this beauty, but I have no regrets. It's my first winter formal, and I'm excited to be going with Player.
I can't believe he invited me. For someone who refused anything remotely romantic, he's now standing before me dressed in a suit.
It's the first time I've seen him so dressed up. He looks even hotter than usual.
"Dixie, don't look at me like that," he warns.
I put on my most innocent expression, which I know sends a tingle through his loins. "Like what?"
He moves closer to me, towering over me. His expression is serious as he caresses my cheek.
"Like you want us to make love," he finally says. I swallow, unable to respond because that's exactly what I was thinking. He drops his hand and takes my fingers in his. "We should go."
I grab my clutch and we leave the room.
We join our friends, except Keri who declared this kind of formal was lame, and we cross the campus together. The conversation flows, but I'm preoccupied withPlayer.
He hasn't been the same since he left the hospital last week. I was relieved that he was safe and sound, but I'm starting to think that not everything has returned to normal yet.
We enter the gymnasium which is decorated with a winter theme. We're stopped to take group photos.
When I tug on Player's hand to take pictures of just the two of us, he doesn't resist.
"Come on!"
Finally, he gives in and we position ourselves in front of the camera. I press myself against Player, happy to be here with him.
We finally enter the hall where the decorations catch my attention. I look up at the ceiling where glittering icicles hang. Everywhere you look, there's nothing but glitter and light effects.
"It's beautiful," I marvel.
My gaze returns to Player who doesn't react. I want to ask him what's wrong, but I don't have the courage. I don't know how I would react if he told me something serious.
Tonight, I want to enjoy this moment between us. He's here, with me, and nothing else matters. The music playing is upbeat, but I'm not sure Player wants to dance or even has the energy for it, so I don't suggest going to the dance floor.
Sitting at our table, we watch our friends having fun. Emery is particularly energetic tonight. He twirls Pia around, making her laugh hysterically. Meanwhile, Sonam and Saphya are performing a choreographed routine to a well-known Beyoncé song.
Player's hand rests on the table, near mine, but he avoids touching me. If I don't initiate contact, he doesn't either.
Something is wrong.
My heart tightens, but I push that unpleasant feeling away. Whatever the problem is, I don't want to face it tonight. I wantto enjoy this winter formal that I never thought I'd attend with Player.
The songs continue until the DJ plays a slow dance. Player's eyes find mine, and I can't look away from him.
He stands up and extends his hand. Eyes locked, we make our way to the dance floor. He takes me in his arms and his lips touch my temple.
The singer's warm tone unfolds the melancholic piece, and a strange premonition rises within me.
What if this is too good to be true?
