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“Fred or Seth?”
“Neither!”
Cassie nods, and I start when a tear rolls down her cheek, glittering like a crystal. She pushes back her chair and wipes at her eyes quickly. “Gotta go.”
“Cass…” Now why do I feel like a heel? “Wait.”
“What for? You’ve judged me, and won’t even think about taking another look at my case.”
“This isn’t a trial, Cass.”
“Then why does it feel like one?”
People at the surrounding tables are openly staring at us.
“Please sit down.” I sigh, rub my eyes. “I’m sorry. I believe what you told me, that you thought Jesse wasn’t serious about Amber. That he was only looking for a hook-up. I get it. I’m just stressed right now. Give me some time, Cass.”
She sits back down, a wary look on her face. “Okay. Is it because of Seth? And Fred?”
“I’m attracted to Seth, okay? But it’s Fred I want.”
“I see.” She toys with a strand of her blond hair. “So, this Fred. Must be really handsome, huh?”
“Yeah. He is.”
“You don’t sound too convinced.”
“I am.”
“And you like it when you kiss, right? When you fuck. You want to touch him, taste him, put your hands all over him? You want him to possess you and make you his.”
Oh God, yes. But the one on my mind right now isn’t Fred. Not at all.
It’s Seth.
***
The next days pass in a flurry of activity—running between college and the dance academy, gathering signed documents and stamps. Putting off the inevitable.
Which is talking to my parents about my plans.
First I need to make sure I can do this. It seems I can jump into the middle of the sports kinesiology degree program without any difficulty, given I get some help with certain classes I never took—and special care will be taken not to aggravate my weak ankle. I can focus on sports like swimming, yoga, aqua aerobics and a bunch of other stuff.
Additional credits will be awarded for classes I’ve completed. There was even talk of the possibility of a small stipend. Once I get my degree, I can do a Master’s in physical therapy.
I can do this. I can.
Now I need to see if I can find work teaching dance classes, and I’ll be ready to tell my dad. As for my mom…
Yeah, that’ll be a tough one. She wanted me to be a ballet dancer. It was her dream, since she was little, and she passed it on to me.
Well, dreams change. They transform, and the more I think about becoming a physical therapist, the more I want it. And if it doesn’t work out in the end, I’ll have a degree I can use in lots of professions, specialize in lots of different things.
I feel as if my horizons are expanding. Ballet was lovely, but the outcomes were specific and uncertain. Get picked by a dance company and be a dancer—or not be picked and become a teacher, which isn’t something I really wanted. Teaching yoga or belly dancing on the side is one thing. Teaching the one thing I wanted to excel in is another.
As I run from appointment to appointment, a little freaked out, stressed and harried, as I jog in the mornings, and then do some stretches, do my routine exercises and work up a sweat, as I buy groceries and make myself some dinner—I’m glad for it.
Because it keeps my mind off Seth—at least during the day time hours. That kiss… it haunts my dreams. I keep waking up hot and throbbing with the ghostly memory of his lips on mine, his scent and taste filling my senses.
