Page 17 of Awestruck at Dusk
8:43 a.m.
“Shhhit,” I said, turning around, heading for my bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, following me.
Don’t follow me here!
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just late. I need to be at the Ballet in Lincoln Center at 9:00 a.m. We’re photographing a few dancers for my Core Studio,” I replied, grabbing something to wear. I paused and looked over my shoulder. He was leaning against my closet’s door frame. “I—kinda need you to leave now.”
“I know,” he said with a laugh. “I was waiting for you to throw me out. You never know. I was hoping you’d start getting undressed since you’re in such a hurry.”
I took one of my socks off and threw it at him. “There you go.”
He caught the sock in mid-air and laughed harder this time.
He shot the sock back at me and said with a grin, “See you around, 9A. I’m glad you’re back.”
9A. It’s been months since he last called me that. It reminded me of the day we met.
He walked away, and I yelled, “You owe me a paella, 9B.”
Easter was last Sunday, and when we bought the Paella from a Spanish restaurant to celebrate at home, I couldn’t help but remember how William promised to cook one for me this Easter. And I didn’t expect him to cook it. He’d just been discharged from the hospital. But I thought it was fun to remind him of the promise he made.
Come rain or shine, he’d told me. Only this time it really poured.
William turned around and said, “Shit, you’re right.” He ran a hand through his thick, golden hair down his neck.
“I’m just messing with you,” I said, shutting a drawer. “We ordered one. Easter was saved.” I walked out of the closet and headed toward the bathroom.
“Was it any good?” he asked as I washed my face.
“It was … meh,” I replied, rinsing my face with water. I was shocked at how comfortable and natural it felt to have him standing there watching me get ready for school. “I’ve had better.” I patted my face with a hand towel and looked for my brush.
“I’ll be your best,” he said with that signature smirk of his. But it wasn’t as annoying as it used to be. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Your paella is that great, huh?” I countered, brushing my short hair, still not fully accustomed to the change, and held it with a hair tie.
“That too.” He smirked again. I snorted and shook my head with a nervous smile.
“Youreallyhave to go.” I needed to change, and he was still standing there entertaining me. I was already going to be late and having William distracting me wasn’t helpful.
“I’ll throw the paella into your birthday gift bundle.” He stepped into my bathroom and pulled the hair tie off my hair. He threw it on the vanity counter with a wink. And with that, he left.
I couldn’t help but smile.
But please…no gifts.I didn’t want to think about celebrating my birthday at all. Lily insisted on how turning twenty-one was such a big deal—that I should celebrate. You owe it to yourself,she said.
But I didn’t owe myself shit. It didn’t feel right to celebrate when Caleb had died a few weeks ago. I deserved to be locked up in my apartment, and that’s it. Being old enough to buy my own wine did sound like something to look forward to, though.
I changed into my clothes, grabbed my things, and rushed down to the lobby. David sat behind the wheel.
“I’m sorry. I’m a bit late,” I said, taking a seat inside the car. Amena shut my door and climbed into the passenger seat next to David. “We’re going to Lincoln Center, please. And I wouldn’t mind if you want to drive like a maniac.”
“I can do that, Miss Murphy.” David laughed and sped off.
We arrived at 9:06 a.m. David didn’t disappoint; he was a skilled driver. Amena opened the door for me and followed close behind as I raced to the Ballet. Luckily, my group hadn’t gone inside yet. They were waiting a few minutes for everyone to arrive.
“Hey,” I said to Nolan, standing next to him. “I made it.”
