Damaged Part 18

He nods and a fake smile lines his lips. I can tell that he's chasing away old memories with a broom. Peter's gone silent. We dance. He spins me slowly. My dress flares out around my knees. He watches the fabric flutter before pulling me back into position. "What about you? Who taught you to dance?"

"I'm self-taught for the most part. I don't really know what anything is called. We talked my gym teacher into doing a unit on dance in high school. Weird but true. Way better than volleyball again. I can only get hit in the face so many times a day."

He laughs. "Volleyball's not your thing?"

"Coordination's not my thing."

"But, you're dancing."

I smile up at him. "And you're leading. It's different. For one, there are no b.a.l.l.s." My face flames red when I realize what I just said.

Peter chuckles and shakes his head. "Well, I might disagree, but since we're not playing with them, I'll just pretend you didn't say it."

I try not to laugh, but I can't help it. I try to pull my hands away and slap him, but Peter grips me tighter. The playful smile slips off my face when he holds me that way. We stop moving and stare at each other. My lips are parted. There was something I was going to say.

Peter looks down at me, his face so close to mine. His breath tickles my lips as he breathes. I want to lean into him. I want his arms around me. I don't know what he's thinking. When time stops like this, Peter looks lost. His entire body tenses and relaxes at the same time. I wish he'd do something, say something.

All the air is being forced out of my lungs. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," he breathes, still watching me. His eyes flick back and forth between mine. His gaze doesn't dip to my lips.

A slow smile spreads across my face. "Liar." I lean in closer and press my forehead against his. "Just tell me."

Peter's hands find my cheeks and then slip back into my hair. He holds me for a second and breathes, "I can't."

"Peter..." his gaze lifts. I feel like he punched me in the stomach. There's so much there, so much pain and affection and turmoil. It kills me. I can feel his agony when I look into his eyes. I take his hands and put one on my waist. "Dance with me. Stop thinking for a while." He nods, and says nothing.

Neither of us speaks again. Peter leads me around the floor, changing the dance as we go along. We lose track of time. It isn't until I hear Millie's loud whistle that we stop. Peter nods at me and heads to the cooler to grab a bottle of water.

Millie walks over to me with her eyes bugging out of her head. "What the h.e.l.l was that?"

I walk into the hallway to find the girl's room. I need to splash water on my face. "What was what?"

Millie follows me. She grabs my arm before I can push through the bathroom door. I whirl around. "You like him."

"I do not. We were practicing something. You'll see it in a few minutes. Let me wash my face off. It's too d.a.m.n hot in there." I try not to sound b.i.t.c.hy, but fail. I'm too defensive, too fast to get out of there.

Millie opens her mouth to counter my claim and follows me into the bathroom. She looks under the stalls, and when she knows we're alone, she says, "Do not do this."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Sidney, don't lie to me. Can you honestly tell me that there's nothing between you two?" Her hands are on her hips. She's looking at me in the mirror.

"There's nothing. I don't know what you think you see, but maybe you should have your eyes checked." I splash water on my face. I have on waterproof mascara, but it'll run if I rub my eyes. I grab a paper towel and pat my face dry.

"You wouldn't say it that way if I said you were sleeping with Dusty."

"Uh, you're right, because I'd choke on my vomit. What's with you?" I turn around and lean back on the sinks. "You're the one who wanted me to come and do this. Peter's my boss. I'm his TA. And yes, I call him Peter the same way I called Dr. Tadwick, Tony."

"You called Dr. Anthony Tadwick, Tadwick. You never called him Tony, not to me." She looks concerned and she shouldn't be. Millie sighs and rubs the side of her head. "Just don't do anything stupid."

"G.o.d, why do people keep saying that?"

"Sidney, that's usually a pretty good sign that a big truck load of stupid is about to mow you down. Listen to your friends. Don't screw your prof. Sleep with guys your own age." She sounds like she knows everything, which p.i.s.ses me off.

"How many guys have I slept with in the entire time I've known you?"

"I don't know? You want an exact number?" She's leaning toward the mirror, fixing her eye make-up.

"Just guess. Best estimate, based on lingerie, dates, make-up, and whatever else you can think of. Tell me how many guys you think it's been."

She's quiet for a moment and then shakes her head. "I don't remember hearing you talk about anyone like that."

"Am I talking about anyone like that now?"

"No." She shakes her head. "But that doesn't mean-"

"It doesn't mean what? Millie, what do you want from me? You set me up with guys, I tag along with you, I do every little thing you ask me to, and then I find some guy that I actually get along with and what? You're telling me to stay away from him?"

"He's a professor, Sidney. You're going to get in trouble."

"For what? For being his friend? For not sleeping with him? For not f.u.c.king him the first day he was here? Exactly what did I do wrong, because I'm not seeing it?" I'm yelling. I don't mean to, but I am. "You know what. Forget it. I'm not talking about this with you."

"You almost slept with him?" I shake my head and put up my hands, as if it'll deaden my ears to her words. "Sidney, wait." She chases me out of the ladies room and down the hallway. "Where are you going?"

I'm leaving the gym. I feel bad about ditching Peter, but I can't do this. I feel like I'm going to fall apart. I need to calm down. I slam open the doors to outside and go sit in the parking lot. I'm leaning against a car, and tuck my head so no one can see my face. I breathe deeply, trying to calm down. I left my phone and everything inside.

What the h.e.l.l is wrong with me? Why did I flip out on her? Millie didn't say anything bad, not really. It wasn't like Dusty telling me the rumors. Maybe that's what's bothering me. I made the rumors worse. d.a.m.n it. I sit on the car for a while, wondering how stupid I am. Maybe I shouldn't be hanging around Peter at all. It makes me sick to think about not seeing him every day, but maybe Millie's right. Maybe I should be going after guys my own age.

Am I really hung up on Peter? Is that why I haven't had a date since January? It can't be Peter. That's not it. There are plenty of guys that are hot. I should find one and start over. But why?

To be normal. To start over.

My life has been stuck on pause for way too long. No boyfriend, no dating, no swooning over some guy, wondering when I'm going to see him again. Unless I count Peter.

Don't count Peter.

The night air is thick. My dress is clinging to me. I glance down and notice my cleavage is glistening. d.a.m.n it. I look all whorish. I fan myself, thinking I'm alone. It's much more humid than usual, as though it might rain. Just when I think I'm ready to go inside, I see someone walking toward me.

"Hey, if it's not the techie TA." Mark from Peter's morning English cla.s.s drops a bunch of books on the hood and walks over to me. I avert my gaze. My face is on fire. I feel the blush down to my toes. Holy s.h.i.+t, did he see me fanning my b.o.o.bs?

He scooches next to me. "Are you okay?" He tries to get a glimpse of my face, but I don't let him.

I nod. "Fine." My voice squeaks.

He laughs. "Ah, cuz it looks like you're not fine, all avoiding my gaze like that. And, not fine has some obligatory obligations that go with it." He's leaning on his hands, and not looking at me. The way he says it makes me smile, but I still feel stupid.

I glance up at him. "Obligatory obligations?"