Page 122 of Facing Off

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Ew, I don’t use exclamation points.

I settle on:

ME

Hey, I got the report. Did you read it?

He replies. Almost instantly.

ADRIAN

I haven’t, but they sent it to me.

There’s three dots, indicating he’s writing more.

This butterfly sensation stirs inside me.

I stare at those dots and see them disappear. Then reappear again. As if he also doesn’t know what to write.

Eventually, he settles on something.

ADRIAN

Can I see you?

I’m busy. That should be my answer.

But those butterflies inside me? They’re incensed for how much they swirl in my belly.

ME

I have to stay at the studio

ADRIAN

Ok, darling

He thinks I’m rejecting him. I start typing. Erase it. Start over. Then send my message fast, before I can take it back.

ME

Can you come over later tonight?

My phone buzzes. He hasn’t sent a text message, but a video response. It’s him nodding so happily with a smile that’s big enough to reveal both his dimples. It’s as if he’s been told he’s won the lottery.

The kind of outward expression that perfectly matches how I feel on the inside, at the thought that we’re going to see each other again. Tonight. At my place.

I try to pull back and tell myself it’s no big deal.

Even if, for the rest of my practice, I keep making those lost little sighs as I repeat my ballet routine over and over again, not resting until it’s time to go home. (Fuck…I think it might be a big deal.)

48

ADRIAN

“Stop snooping,”Sonya says, watching me go through her books. She’s crossing and uncrossing her arms, and then biting the edge of her fingernail like she’s nervous that I’m here.

Something tugs at my chest, because fuck. That’s howIfeel. Like a bag of shaken-up nerves.

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