The Hardest Cut Jamie Bennett (top novels TXT) 📖

going right?  It was a terrible trick to play on someone.  It was terrible to fool her that way, when she had put her whole heart into believing that everything was going according to plan, that everything was going to turn out like she wanted it to.

“You just can’t trust them,” I warned, and Marley nodded slightly.  She stopped talking and focused on driving and we did get home safely.

Late that Friday night, I looked at my phone to check on what my friends were doing.  They were at parties and bars and it did seem like they were having a lot of fun.  I smiled as I saw Bianca making a kissing face toward the camera while Holland did her typical model pose, looking back over her shoulder toward the phone.  It made me want to look at pictures of myself, when I’d been going out with them and having fun.  How long ago had that been?  Almost a year, now, I decided, because I had kind of isolated myself during my last relationship.

And then, without really meaning to, I started to look at pictures of him, of us, together.  I didn’t have too many.  We’d had to be very careful all the time and I had gotten really paranoid about even having images of him on my phone, and especially of any compromising positions or poses.  But there were a few selfies I’d taken where we’d both been smiling at the camera or smiling at each other.  I blew them up to look at our faces.  We had been happy at times, that was true.  It was undeniable—I had the evidence here in my hand, pictures of Shep with his expression so relaxed, and mine so blissful.  I stopped at the raciest shot, with him trailing his hand down my neck and kissing my cheek as I smiled.  I remembered that afternoon, just that few hours of joy when everything else had been so hard.

He hadn’t looked happy tonight when we’d run into each other at the Hummingbird Café.  Shep had walked into the restaurant with his daughter Francie, the youngest one, and I’d seen nothing but shock and, yes, fear on his face when he spotted me.  Like I was going to do something now, after all this time!  Like I was going to yell out, “Shephard Sterling used to be my boyfriend!  Did you hear that, Michigan?  We were together and it was wonderful and now…”

And now I was sitting in Hallie’s house on a Friday night, alone, looking at pictures of how good things had been before.  I couldn’t bring myself to delete them but I did put down the phone and I turned off the light, rolling away from the bruise on my hip to stare at the wall.  I didn’t sleep for a long time, lost in thought about believing misleading signals and about things going in the wrong direction.

∞

I came out of the turn and stopped precisely on the last beat, chin angled correctly, arms up, smiling.  I could tell by how Coach Sam and Rylah were looking at me that it wasn’t enough.

“Let’s see that again, Gaby,” Sam announced.  “And you too, number twenty-four…”

“Vanessa,” Rylah told him, looking up from her phone.  She had told us that she took notes throughout the practices, and she had been typing wildly.  I wished I could know what it said on that little screen.

“Yeah, you,” Sam said, pointing at Vanessa.  “Run it again.”

The other girls stepped away and the two of us performed the steps one more time.  I tried to make it bigger, brighter, bolder, and I also tried not to pant when it was over.  Sam and Rylah talked briefly and I wished, pretty desperately now, that I could have heard what they were saying about how we had done.  Was it better?  Worse?  Had I shown enough energy?  Too much?

Coach Sam broke off from the conference.  “Ok, step aside, Gaby and…”

“Vanessa,” Rylah supplied again.  We moved back and I tried to melt into the crowd.  It was only the first week of practice, and already the head coach knew my name, but he hadn’t known Vanessa’s.  Maybe it was because he had noticed me for something good, but most likely it was because I was already on the short list for cuts.  I’d been called to repeat sequences three times today and it wasn’t to show the other dancers how it should have been done.  I was messing up.  I was ruining this.

I kept my chin tilted at the best possible angle and smiled.

“Great, let’s move to tumbling.  Miya, pull out the mats, please,” Rylah said, and some of the returning dancers skipped over to pile of mats in the corner, obviously not tired at all.  I watched them and tried not to show on my face my utter dread of tumbling, and then I jogged over with the other ladies like I had the same boundless energy that they seemed to.  Or maybe, they were just better at faking it.

Several people also struggled during the tumbling, including Addison, the girl I’d met on the first day of tryouts.  Sam had a thing or two to say to her about how she could improve, and she was definitely ticked off to hear the criticism.  But she was so gorgeous and her dancing had such a raw sexiness to it that I didn’t think there was any way she would get cut.  Caitlyn, who had cried in the tunnel at the final audition, was amazing, and I clapped as hard as I could for her.

Actually, I clapped for everyone.  What talent!  It was lucky to even be a part of this group, I told myself, but I sure didn’t want to get cut from it.  I didn’t exactly fall during my passes, but all the practicing I’d done behind the bookstore didn’t seem to show, either.  I was so disappointed in myself that I felt like crying, but I managed to keep