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“Oh my God, you haven’t danced in years and you did the turn better than most of the people who haven’t stopped.” I picked up the ballet shoes. “You have to get on a stage. Even if it’s just with me at the Learning Arts Center. Just once.”
“I don’t know—”
“You have to!” I wiggled the shoes, and her gaze followed them like I was dangling something shiny in her face. I don’t know how I knew this, but I did know that getting her to dance again was important. “You need to. So I can live vicariously through you. Just once before spring semester. Please.”
Avery took a deep breath as she eyed me. “What’s in it for me?”
“What do you want?”
Her lips pursed. “I want two things. First being you help me find a gift for Cam for Christmas, because I suck at that kind of stuff.”
I chuckled. “All right, that’s totally doable. What’s the second thing?”
“You have to babysit Michelangelo and Raphael this weekend.”
“The turtles?”
She grinned as she nodded. “We’re getting this one large habitat, so, you know, they can . . . I don’t know, head bob at each other and Cam wanted to go to this movie, but I’m afraid they’re going to kill each other.”
“So you want me to be like a turtle bouncer? Break them up if one of them gets out of hand?”
Avery giggled. “Exactly.”
I laughed. “Okay. Deal.” I wiggled the shoes at her.
She snatched them up. “Oh, and I’m pretty sure Michelangelo is a girl, so try to stop them if they happen to look like they’re getting it on. Cam and I aren’t ready to be parents to a bunch of baby turtles.”
Groaning, I flopped on my back. “Oh God . . .”
Twenty-six
The sun was out, shining brightly, but it didn’t chase away the chill in the air the morning of Debbie’s funeral.
As Calla had promised, she’d dropped me at the start of the service, and once the graveside part was done, I’d text her. She’d taken me to class last week, but Cam started taking me to class this week and hadn’t taken no for an answer.
I really needed to get a car.
It helped as I stood back from the gravesite to focus on stupid, mundane things. I’d never been good at funerals. When my grandpappy passed away, I’d been too wigged out to get near the coffin. Not much had changed. The coffin hadn’t been opened, but I’d sat at the back of the packed church at the cemetery grounds.
My knee ached from the walk to the gravesite, but whatever pain was worth it. I felt like I needed to be here for Debbie, and if I hadn’t been, I would’ve regretted it.
Her parents looked like they were in a daze, huddled together along with a younger boy who looked like he’d just entered high school. I couldn’t imagine what they were going through or what they could be thinking.
Off to their right was Erik Dobbs, and he was surrounded by what appeared to be every member of his fraternity. I didn’t know if Jase was among them; the crowd of guys dressed in wrinkled suits was too thick.
It wasn’t hard to tell apart the students from the family members. We were the ones dressed in something—anything—black. I’d pulled on leggings this morning and a dark blue sweater dress. It didn’t seem like the best thing to wear to a funeral, but it was all I had handy.
As the graveside service drew to a close, I was surprised to find my lashes damp. I’d been doing so well, keeping my face relatively dry through the whole service, even when they played that one country song that was always played during sad moments. I hastily wiped at my cheeks with chilled hands as I turned.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around. I almost put my weight on my bad leg, but corrected myself at the last minute. Heart pounding in surprise, I lifted my gaze.
Erik stood there, his dark eyes fastened on mine. “What are you doing here?”
I shook his grip off my shoulder or at least tried to. His hand tightened for a second and then he let go, but he didn’t back up. “Don’t touch me ever again,” I said, voice low.
Something dark and ugly flashed across his face. “You shouldn’t be here. She’s dead and in that coffin because of you.”
Gaping, I jerked back from him. “Excuse me?”
