Page 80 of Forbidden Dance
I lean down and smile at him. “I will.”
But as I cross the carport and open the door to a dark, quiet house, I know I’ve made it.
And I also know my days here are numbered.
Chapter 27
Blitz writes me constantly. Between taping promo segments. During breaks in the dance rehearsals. I rarely go more than two hours without hearing from him.
I’m starting to believe this could be real.
Mindy comes on Thursday to take me to the park. We watch oldDance Blitzepisodes. I witness how he goes from a dancer to a philanderer to a jerk. It’s all there. The explosion in the ratings. The comments on the episodes. They love it. The crazier he gets, the more they love him.
They created him.
But he let them. He went along.
The one time he seems like himself is during the finale of season one. He’s supposed to propose to one of the finalists, or at least offer to be their partner. I pause the footage, zoning in on his expression, the lift of his eyebrows, the tightness around his mouth.
“What are you seeing?” Mindy asks me.
“I’m seeing someone who doesn’t like who he’s become,” I say.
She squeezes my arm. “You’re still talking to him?”
My phone chimes and I hold it up. “Every few hours.”
“That’s amazing.”
We do searches and read gossip. There are no limo images, no dates outside of filming. Everyone is speculating that he’s actually in love with one of the finalists and wants to have time alone without cameras. They try to guess who it is.
Only I know.
“The finale is December 10,” Mindy says, scrolling through links.
“That’s the same day I take the SAT.”
“You should be done by then, though, right?” she asks.
“Oh, yes, a little after lunch.” We double-check the listing. The finale goes live at 8 p.m. our time.
“You going to watch it?” Mindy asks.
“I don’t know how,” I say. My father appears in the corner of my eye and I tuck my phone under Mindy’s leg. The park is quiet, but the weather is back to warm again. I wave at Dad. He walks on by.
Mindy leans in to talk softly. “Come over after the SAT. Spend the day with me and we’ll watch it together.”
This is a good idea. I might need the support. “I’ll talk to my parents about it,” I say.
“I’ll have my mom call yours.”
I stick my phone in my pocket, and we walk through the playscape.
I see Blitz everywhere. Pushing Daisy on the swing. Pulling up in his red Ferrari. I miss him. I cling to our night in the Presidential Suite. I wish I could walk up to the hotel and just gaze at the entrance. But it’s too far.
At least I have my memories.
On Friday, I know it must be time for my toe shoe assessment. Danika said it would be this week. I bring thepointeshoes in my string bag and head into my ballet class.
