Hustle

I move around the small dorm room as silent as possible, but the drawers scrape and echo as I slide them open.

Rose’s light snoring is muffled with her face buried in her pillow, but it’s steady, unaffected by the noise. She’d stumbled in a few hours ago, returning from the bar her, TJ, and the others from the house went to. She’d invited me to meet them there, after I texted her that I left Andrew’s, but I didn’t go.

I sigh just thinking about Andrew as I slide sweats on over my leotard for my 9:30 am Intro to Dance class. A freshman mistake, I’ve realized. I needed an art credit, but overestimated my ability to dance, and then I find out there’s a required performance. That can’t possibly be anymore embarrassing than what I’ve already done.

Andrew. I can’t get him out of my head. And I can’t figure out why. I should write him off as a jerk, except I don’t want to. Just thinking about him is exciting. My heart kicks up, butterflies explode in my stomach, all that crazy stuff I’ve only read about in books—just the thought of him does that.

Plus, he stopped when I said to. He didn’t push anything, not the smoking, not the touching, nothing. I couldn’t find fault with him because it’s not his fault I’m socially inept and inexperienced.

I glance back at Rose one last time, debating if I should wake her, but her first class isn’t till noon. I’ll come back after my dance class.

I’m texting with my mom as I walk into the studio in the basement of one of the older buildings on campus. She’s always texting, but it’s better than always calling. I somehow managed to get her promise to limit those to every other day, and so far so good, but it’s only been a few weeks since I left home.

The doors open, so I stroll in, sipping my iced coffee and debating how to reply to my mom’s request to drop off supplies she picked up for my dorm room. Boundaries, I’m working on them, so I begin to type out that I’ll come home for lunch on Saturday. Just like I did last Saturday. How do I keep this from being a thing?

I glance up when the teaching assistant’s quiet voice tight with tension reaches me, and I nearly choke on my coffee. His back is to me, but the slight curl to his dark hair and broad shoulders are unmistakable, Andrew is standing there in front of her.

“Fine, just go, but we’re not done talking about this,” the flawless brunette orders low with her arms crossed.

Whatever he says back makes her scoff, and he turns to walk out with an annoyed expression etched on his face.

I step to the side as he leaves. When his eyes land on me, I raise my hand with a slight wave. But his gaze only flicks over me, and he ignores my greeting, never breaking his stride as he exits.

Whatever that was, it was intense, and it still lingers in the air. I hesitate with my bag on my arm, unsure if I should leave and give the flustered girl a moment alone or stay like I saw nothing.

“Brooklyn.” She makes the decision for me and smiles a big smile, with perfect white teeth showing, as she steps forward. “I’m glad you’re early. Can you help me set up the barres for today’s class? Victoria— I mean Mrs. Blanc— won’t be in today, so it’s just me.”

“Sure.” I drop my bag in the corner of the room and follow her lead to pull out the ballet barres and line them in rows.

She moves with ease and grace. Her long limbs are slim and defined, her cheekbones high, and hair smooth in a bun, the perfect image of a ballerina. And I know she doesn’t mean to, but I feel short, squat, and clumsy just standing next to her.

I’d admired her since I started the class, and she only impressed me more with her patience for instructing, but now an unwanted jealousy takes root in my gut.

Others begin to file in, some helping to set up, others sitting on the floor and stretching and chatting.

“Please find a space at the barre and stand in first position.” Tatum, the TA, claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Mrs. Blanc won’t be here, but I’ll lead you through today’s workout to focus on flexibility and technique that will prepare for learning your dance routine next week.” She beams at the class, taking a position in the front of the room, a wall length mirror behind her.

And I spend the entire class wondering about the beauty and what her relationship may be with Andrew. But if there’s anything there, then I might as well give up any ideas of Andrew now. There’s nothing about me that could compete with her.

“—But they seemed like they were fighting,” I’m trying to explain to Rose what I saw.

“And he kissed you last night.” She wraps her arm around the pillow under her head, still sleepy.

“I don’t want to even think about last night,” I groan and lean against my headboard. “Especially now. He might be in a relationship with a girl I have to see almost everyday.”

“You don’t know that. I’ve never heard that he has a girlfriend. All I hear is that he has lots of girls.” She stretches and sits up, hair a tangled mess around her head. “Chin up. You kissed one of the most sought after guys on campus in your first month at school.” Her eyebrow pops up with the corner of her mouth. “This has to be a good sign. This is going to be a bomb ass school year.”

I shake my head, recalling the feel of lips on mine, hands on my skin. “Except that’s all over now.”

She sweeps her legs off the mattress, slipping her feet into a pair of sandals that are peeking out from under the bed. “There will be others, and it will be even better.”

“I doubt that. I can’t think of anyone better.” I lean back, draping my arm over my eyes, realizing how desperate I sound. I’d only just met the boy, but his smile and green eyes were all I could see behind my lids. Something about him sucked me in, and my thoughts were trapped on him. “I’ve peaked, and it’s only my first month at school.”

She laughs and slaps my leg as she stands up. “Aw, are you sad that you didn’t get to bone him?”

“Bone him?” I drop my arm from my face and gape at her. “First, girls don’t bone. Guys have the…you know… bones.”

She’s shaking with laughter as she falls on the mattress beside me. “Fine, you wanted him to bone you. You can admit it.”

I prop myself up on my arms and side glare at her. “And what about you and TJ?” Something about her smirk stops me and I sit up. “Oh my God, did you… with him… last night?”

She bites her lip and shrugs. “I may have let him bone my mouth.”

I muffle my scream into the palm of my hand, my eyes nearly bursting out of my head.

She continues to smile with a mischievous glint in her eyes, but she can only keep the calm act up for so long before she bounces on the bed and turns towards me. “I don’t know what I was thinking. We were dancing in the club together, one thing led to another, and he had me out back in a private side alley, and I went down on him, right then and there. It was,” she covers her smile with her fingers as she chooses her word, “fun.”

I’d never gotten a chance to do the whole girl talk, morning after thing with any girlfriends before. When I had friends, we weren’t at this stage yet, and by time I got there, they were no longer friends. I didn’t know whether to high five her or talk about the dangers of public sex.

“You should have come out last night. It was fun.” She sighs and lies back next to me on my bed.

“Well…” I eye her, not wanting to bring down her mood, but needing to get this off my chest. “You kind of ditched me last night.”

She jerks herself up into sitting and narrows her eyes at me. “I texted you where we were at.”

I nod acknowledging what she said and trying to bring down her frustration. “But you had already left without me, without telling me.”

She cocks her head as she questions me. “Didn’t Andrew tell you?” When I shake my head she continues, “TJ texted him to say were leaving, but Andrew said you two were staying.”

“He never said anything.” He never came out of the room after I walked out on him, and when I realized Rose was gone, I texted her and left back to the dorms.

She shakes her head, flinging off the mini argument and the mystery of who texted what. “Sorry, then. I won’t count on boys to pass along the message next time.” She stands up and flips her head down, gathering her hair into a bun on top of her head. “I’ve got to get to class, but we’re going out tonight. Thirsty Thursday.” She slides gloss over her lips and checks her reflection in the mirror. “TJ and his friends will meet us at Howl tonight. They have an away game this weekend so it’s our only night to see them.”

She walks out, still in the leggings and tee she slept in, arms empty of any books. It’s only after the door closes that I think about the text and why Andrew wouldn’t have said anything, but it only confuses me more, so I drop it and get ready for my next class.

“Come on, they’re not here yet.” Rose drags me through the crowd of the bar at the edge of campus. “Let’s go to the bar and get a drink.”

Nerves ripple through me at the idea. Rose had gotten me a fake ID our first week, but I’d yet to use it for more than getting into places. I suck in a breath and pretend to be confident as we step to the bar.

It all works out, the girl behind the bar barely glances at our ID’s as she takes our order, and we walk away with a beer and a shot.

“Over there.” Rose leads the way again. “I think I see TJ.”

I scan the crowd and spot him easily. TJ towers over most around him.

He lifts his hand and waves for Rose to come to him, wrapping her in his arm as she steps to his side.

The crowd he’s with is standing around a high top table, chatting, ignoring us as we approach. But one of the girls eyes me.

“Hey, you’re the girl from the other night?” She nods to herself, and then elbows the girl next to her. “Layla, this is the one who found you.” She takes a sip of her drink and laughs. “You need to thank her, she picked your ass up even when you were covered in throw up.”

I recognize the girl who’s turning red the more her friend speaks. Her eyes aren’t blood shot, but the brown almond eyes are unmistakable. This is the girl who fell asleep in the bathroom.

“Thanks. I owe you one. I’ll get you your next drink.” She extends her hand to me. “I’m Layla.”

“Brooklyn.” I shake her hand and return her smile.

“And this bitch is Deena.” Layla elbows her still laughing friend.

“Sorry girl, but you didn’t see you that night. You were trashed.”

“And this goddess with our drinks is Tatum,” Layla ignores Deena and reaches for the drinks Tatum’s delivering.

“Brooklyn?” Tatum has a cheerleader smile as she stretches her arm out to hug me. “Brooklyn’s in the intro class I teach.”

I return her somewhat awkward hug, unsure how friendly I’m supposed to be with her. But as she gulps her drink, I realize her over eager greeting is probably alcohol induced.

“She’s also the one who picked Layla up from the bathroom floor last weekend,” Deena laughs.

“No way.” Tatum’s eyes pop, and she covers her mouth with the back of her hand like she might have choked on her drink.

Layla and Deena quiet their laughter as their eyes flick behind Tatum. A knot forms in my chest as I follow their gaze.

Andrew steps behind her, one tan arm sliding to her waist as he looks down on her. It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or just trying to be heard over the music as he questions, “What are you doing here?”

She freezes, and then her smile slides back into place and she turns to him. “Probably the same thing you’re doing here.”

His jaw clenches, a line showing through the day old scruff that only makes him sexier. Like trouble. His eyes sweep around the table, and when they pause on me, his angry look only deepens.

“Come on,” he commands, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the crowd to the back door.

I watch them walk away, her yelling something at his back and slapping his shoulder at the same time.

The girls at the table stare after them as they disappear.

“There’s only two ways this is ending.” A guy slides in between Layla and Deena, leaning his forearms on the table. “Him fucking her or her hitting him like last time.”

“Don’t worry,” I must look as sick as I feel because Deena turns to reassure me, “he never hits back.”

I nod and gulp down my drink.

“I’m thinking both.” The guy nods and winks at Layla. “Tate is hot when she gets angry.”

“Why don’t they just get it over with and make it official?” Layla asks him in a voice I barely can hear.

“Why should he?” Kyle, I remember his name from the other night, pulls back from the table and finishes his drink.

“They’re not a couple?” I ask.

Deena shrugs. “Who knows? They were in high school or something, but not now. He’s too busy screwing his way around campus.”

Layla is tearing at the napkin under her drink. “But she’s the only girl he actually pays attention to after.”

My phone rings a tune, and I dig through my clutch to retrieve it, thankful for the diversion.

“No phones around us, blondie.” Kyle directs a hard stare my way.

I pause with my phone in my hand, glancing at the text from my mom.

“Do you not understand English?” He leans in towards me. “No phones around us. Take that somewhere else.”

Rose links her arm through mine, showing up out of nowhere and pulls me from the table. “Don’t pay attention to him, he’s a jerk, I learned that last night. But the team has a thing about phones. Others can’t use them when they’re out, that way no one can snap incriminating photos.” She shrugs and continues walking me towards another table. “They’re paranoid. Is that your mom?”

“Yeah.” I lift my phone to read the text, but Rose swipes it from me. “What are you doing?”

She smiles as she reads the text. “She expects you to believe she’s at Target looking for curtains for our dorm at ten o’clock?”

“She could be…” I try to defend, but I know it’s useless. Just like I know her thin excuse is just another reason to check on me, like always.

“Ha.” Her fingers are moving over the screen, navigating around my phone like a pro. “Good thing we took all those photos of the room before. I’ve got the perfect photo you can send her of your bedspread, so she can find matching curtains.” She rolls her eyes and hands me back the phone. “She’ll never know you were out.”

I glance to the screen. She’s sent the text for me with a message saying thanks and I love you. I chew on my lip as I think about the lie.

“Forget about it. She was lying to you, you’re lying back, and the circle continues.”

“Yeah, plus at least she won’t have to worry now,” I try and convince myself.

“It’s very considerate of you,” she mocks me and pulls me back to the group.

Layla’s staring at the dance floor, and I follow her gaze. Tatum is dancing with Andrew, or rather dancing on Andrew. But her dancer’s body is sensual and flexible as she hangs on him and folds her body back, her shoulder length brown hair almost skimming the ground. Then she rises to her full height, and his thick lips graze her forehead, his green eyes focused only on her.

I can tell I’m not the only one with jealousy eating at me, Layla looks miserable.

TJ steps behind Rose, whispering in her ear and making her giggle.

She ducks away from him and taps the bottom of my glass in my hand. “Drink up. I want to go dance. Come on.”

I tilt the glass back as she chants for me to drink, and then I set the empty cup on the table. “Done.”

“Let’s go.” She leans on TJ, and I move to follow them to the dance floor.

“Where are you going?” Kyle grabs my shoulder, stopping me.

“To dance.” I try to step away, but his hand slides lower, gripping my arm.

“Not so fast. You don’t always need to follow your friend. Let her have a life.”

Shock silences me. I attempt pull my arm back, but he holds tight, and it only pulls him closer. The anger on his face doesn’t make sense.

“I don’t like to babysit.” He nods past me to the dance floor. “TJ wanted me to be the wingman tonight, but I can already tell you’re one of those uptight girls that wouldn’t be any fun. I could see that the first day you came into my class, acting all holier than thou. I’m not Andrew, I can’t pretend.”

“What’s your problem? Let me go.”

He steps even closer, grip tightening on my arm. Fear chokes me, shaking my muscles as he traps me against the table, in the middle of a crowd, but completely alone.

“I saw you watching him. You didn’t realize he only gave you attention to help TJ get some alone time with your girl.” He drops my arm with a harsh laugh. “Don’t cry. Grow up. I’m only telling you the truth.”

I am about to cry, though. The tears sting behind my eyes. I don’t want him to see it. I don’t want any of these people to see.

But it’s too late, it’s clear in Kyle’s smile. He steps back, satisfied, and lets me pass by as I duck out of the bar.