Page 29 of Forbidden Dance
“Don’t,” Mindy says. “It’ll make you crazy.”
I find another one.
“Somebody tell the new girls to take his phone away before bedtime. #BurnBlitzBurn.”
“Stop,” Mindy says.
But I can’t quit reading them, pausing on keywords. Jerk. Horrible. Worst kind of man. Shoot his balls off.
One of the Tweets has another hashtag. #BlitzSightingTexas. I click on it and more messages fall in a line.
“Spotted on the Riverwalk draped over some chick. Wanted to push him in. #BurnBlitzBurn #BlitzSightingTexas.”
The Tweet was last night.
Last night.The night after our kiss.
Some of the Tweets have pictures. I can’t look.
I hand the phone back to Mindy.
She tries to hug me but I resist.
“He screwed up, Livia,” she says. “He’s trying to fix it. He kissed a pig!”
“He hasn’t changed,” I say, my voice dull. I feel numb now. “He’s just a flirt. He probably kissed ten women yesterday.”
And I was the stupidest one, I think silently. I want to cry. He probably calls all of them Princess. What a stupid name, anyway.
But the weekend will be a lot easier now. I’m not waiting for Monday anymore. I’m waiting for him to be gone.
Chapter 12
I drag myself to the wheelchair ballerina class on Tuesday, not sparked even by the chance to see Gabriella. Everything feels blunted and dull, like the world is drained of its color. I skipped Monday practice. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. My dad is right. Boys make me stupid. I should stay away.
The girls come in, one by one. Marissa is better today, and I’m relieved to see it. Gwen is on time, Gabriella beautiful in a bright red leotard and sparkly tutu. “Where’s Benjamin?” she asks as soon as she’s in the room.
“He’s with another group now,” Janel says, starting the music.
Danika did say she was taking him out of my class. She was right all along. Maybe she saw something I didn’t. Flirting with Suze or some of the mothers, more than just accepting their attention. Maybe she’d even caught him with someone.
I picture him kissing one of the other instructors and I want to throw up.
“You okay, Livia?” Janel asks.
I shake myself out of it. “I’m fine,” I say. I move forward to line up the girls.
About halfway through the class, the door opens and a woman enters.
I’m less necessary today, so I’m just standing in the corner watching the dance as she looks around the studio. She’s definitely not from around here.
Her suit is red, tailored, and fits her like it was custom made. The skirt hits just above her knee. She’s got killer red heels and her ash blond hair looks like she just came out of a magazine shoot. She’s older, maybe fifty, but her skin is as radiant as a girl’s. Her makeup is perfect, her lips the exact shade of her dress. She puts on a fake smile as she looks around.
Janel keeps the motions going to cue the girls. “Can I help you?”
“Where is Blitz?” the woman asks.
“He isn’t in this class,” Janel says. “Check with the front desk. They can help you.”
