My thoughts creeped toward inspecting the shower closer, looking for an issue with the connections like Gil?—
No.
I couldn’t go there right now. I needed to just get in, even if the pressure was intense enough to take out an eye. Once the water temperature was just on the correct side of scalding, I stepped inside, gasping again as the stream battered me.
The water was working out a particularly bad spot in the middle of my back as I thought of that short ride to the Locc in Adair’s Jeep.
The inside was clean, but not empty. There was a water canteen covered with an assortment of stickers, including one with an EMS symbol, in the cup holder. A neat line of small rubber ducks in neon colors lined the dashboard, and I’d even seen a small box filled with more ducks on the floorboard in the back when I’d opened the back door to get out some of his things.
I didn’t have a strong impression of what exactly made a “Jeep” guy, but even so, Adair didn’t quite fit it, with his baggy clothes, unruly hair, and easy smile.
By the time I’d done an “everything” shower, I stepped out exhausted but more clearheaded than I’d been in weeks.
That death shower hadn’t healed all. I was just as wrung out, just as brittle, but at least I no longer smelled and was slightly less sore, which would be nice for class.
The room was filled with steam, and I stepped up to the vanity, staring at the fogged-over mirror. Reaching forward, I pressed my hand to it for several seconds, breathing in the thick air deeply.
I pulled my hand away and took a long look at what was left behind.
Proof that I’d been here. That this was real.
I’d made it.
After braiding back both sides of my hair as much as possible given its length, I changed into my fresh set of dance clothes—a cropped With a Flourish Dance School T-shirt and dark leggings. I wrapped my shower supplies in my towel so I could take them back to the bedroom in one trip.
For reasons I didn’t have the energy to examine, I didn’t want Adair seeing my things laid out when they got back.
Would he use this shower, or would he use his sister’s?
I guessed I’d find out.
I put the towel on top of the bedside table and left it there to deal with later, then eyed the bed longingly for three whole seconds before wrenching myself away.
“Same combo as last week. Spank, spank, stomp, stomp, shuffle into a cramp roll, repeat.”
I got a few nods from my more attentive students, but it was the giggles that caught my attention as I restarted “Fly Me to the Moon”by Frank Sinatra on the stereo.
Miss Trish and her two gal pals stumbled into one another as they worked through the combo on their own along to the music, and I eyed them suspiciously.
They’d been to happy hour before class, I guaranteed it.
It was Cinco de Mayo weekend, and I was regretting not canceling this class for even more reasons now.
Mrs. Hammond was with her husband in the back. Her hands were on the barre, and he was behind her,holding her hips steady as she worked through the sequence.
Displays of pure, unyielding love like what was going on between them were common at Live Oak, but I couldn’t handle them anymore.
I couldn’tlookanymore.
I didn’t want the “before” picture burning into my memory when I knew that there would be an “after.”
That distance wasn’t necessarily safe, but it was more survivable when things inevitably took tragic turns.
Just as I considered cutting class short before Miss Trish inevitably took a tumble and we had to call emergency services, my phone blared from my bag.
I froze mid-combination, my tap shoe scuffing across the floor.
Only two numbers were set to bypass the “Do Not Disturb” mode on my phone.
