Part 28 (1/2)

I can't believe you'd let it go to waste!

She jumps up, stomps across the hardwood floor. ”Lots of talent goes to waste.” My voice is lost in her footsteps.

Every Time I'm around her, I like her more. Not sure she could say the same thing about me. In fact, pretty sure not. Oh well. She doesn't know my parents, or that I'm already a major disappointment to them.

Wonder how they'd feel about me teaching.

Other than the money thing.

Because teaching isn't about money either.

As I start to head out, Liana gestures to me to come closer.

Uh... I happened to overhear your conversation. Shantell is right, you know.

You were destined to dance. If you try to ignore that, you'll be completely miserable. A new TV dance show is holding auditions in L.A.

next month. I hope you'll consider trying out.

Me? On TV?

On the Jeopardy! College Champions.h.i.+p, maybe. If I go to college, that is. But on a dance show? That would require letting the world know I dance. Which means letting my parents know I dance. Putting all that aside, however, that kind of compet.i.tion is for real dancers, not a novice like me.

I tell Liana, ”I'll think about it, okay?”

Not for too long. We'll want to come up with something really special for your audition. Call me tomorrow.

Tomorrow? No problem. I already know what I'm going to say.

The Quattro takes me home. It must, because I'm not thinking much about where to turn it.

I'm thinking about Shantell.

Dance isn't about money. It's about heart.

Is Dance My Heart?

I can't say that it is. The only thing that feels that way right now is Jenna. She is an obsession, really. Not sure why. She says she's not in love with me. Can never be. Does soul-splitting love have to be returned to make it real? If I had to give her up, it would open a black hole inside of me. But what about dance? If I had to give it up... what? I park my car, go inside to shower.

Run the water hot, make the bathroom steam.

Soap. Shampoo. Routine. Dance, I realize, is my escape from ordinary.

If I had to give it up, I would lose something integral. Why am I afraid to confess that?

I dance. Train. Work hard to improve. Doesn't that mean I'm a dancer?

Believing I Am Should mean being proud that I am, which means telling the world.

I'll start with Jenna, work my way up.

We're going to a party tonight. Always an adventure with Jenna.

When she gets in the car, it's obvious her personal party has begun. ”You drinking already?” I think her condition must be due to more than alcohol. But I'm not stupid enough to say so. Only a little.

I don't want to pa.s.s out before we even get there, you know?

I won't comment on that. ”So, hey. I want to tell you something....”

Tell her, quick, before the fire goes out.

Okay, but I have to tell you something first.

Your mom thinks Kendra is anorexic.... The flame extinguishes.

Cara

Fire Some people say love is fire- flame fanned into inferno. A raging that all too predictably burns through the years, fades into smoldering, burns down into ash, soot that cannot be rekindled.

I say that soot is dust, swept up by gravity to fly, untouched by time, with ice, a comet. Bright in the vast azure deep of night, a flare in the frozen emptiness of s.p.a.ce.

A hot, cold candle, magnified beneath the glare of solar wind.

Falling In Love Was not something I ever expected.

I have no role models for love.

I always thought friends.h.i.+p would do-that my heart couldn't hold more. But it can, and that presents an incredible dilemma. Because if I truly love Dani as much as I think I do, how can I deny it? Her? Us?

At Stanford, no one worth mentioning would care. The Bay Area is a liberal stronghold. But Stanford presents another problem. Will I still go there?

It's not so far from here. I could come home on weekends. Not to see my family, who I just want away from. But how can I live without Dani?

Everything is so new, and moving bullet train speed, we haven't even talked about next year. It's all been about how, when, and where we can see each other again. G.o.d, I want it to be every day. So strange.

Never, ever before did having s.e.x mean anything to me. But now I think about it all the time. Is that sick? I have no idea what normal is. Has she turned me into a perv?

Maybe the trick is just having lots and lots of s.e.x until you get tired of it? Does everyone eventually get tired of it? Do really old people still like having ”fun” after decades together? Does being in love influence any of that? Does love fade with time? And which fades faster-love or l.u.s.t? Too many questions.

That's what comes of sitting here alone when all I want is to be with her.

Wonder if she feels the same way.

Suddenly the phone rings. Am I psychic?

But It Isn't Dani Caller ID says it's Sean. I let it go to voice mail, though I've got a good idea what he's going to say. He's sorry.