“Mine, too,” says Charlotte, grinning at Henry.
Belk rolls his eyes. “Majority rules. Suck it up, kids. We’re doing this.”
“It’s going to be so great,” Henry assures the rest of us as a collective groan fills the room.
Since Belk isn’t a dancer, he turns on the television over the mirrors and cues up an instructional movie on beginning ballroom dancing. For the next ten minutes we practice our posture and the box step, which is a three count move that involves not tripping over your own feet. Then Belk orders us to pair up for the waltz.
Caleb and I always partnered together in kung fu, but with my new assignment, I hesitate before taking his hand.
“He’s not here,” Caleb whispers, as everyone else joins together.
He’s right. Grayson’s in his room. It can’t hurt for us to dance together—not when everyone else is doing it, too. We take our places. His hand finds the dip of my waist, his other grips mine, and I shiver when his thumb circles the thin skin on the underside of my wrist.
I am not a ballroom dancing expert, but Caleb looks good like this. Regal. Tall, and proud. Even with his black-rimmed glasses and messy hair, he’s like someone out of another time.
The starting pose is where it ends. As soon as the music starts, his posture collapses, his chin falls forward, and his full weight ends up on my right foot.
“Ow.” Behind me, Charlotte is giggling as she tells Sam to focus. The only one who seems to have it together is Henry, who’s dragging Geri around the floor with full grace, but absolutely zero attention to his rotating box step.
“Again,” calls Belk. “One, two, three. One, two, three. Henry!”
I snort as Henry gets berated. Caleb and I try again, with similar results.
“Sorry.” He winces.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I didn’t need toes anyway. Balance is way overrated.”
He stomps on my left foot.
“You really suck at this,” I say.
He pinches me lightly in the ribs, right in my ticklish spot, and I squeak and curl into him.
Then immediately back away. Even if Grayson’s not here, Belk is, and he could easily report my behavior to the director.
Caleb’s still scowling at his feet.
“Try thinking about something else,” I say, pulling his arm up again.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Something you like.”
His eyes lift to my lips, and the want in his gaze sends a warm, velvet wave through me.
“Yeah,” he says. “That doesn’t help.”
“Tell me about a building.” Caleb’s dad was an architect before he got hurt on the job, and even if Caleb doesn’t talk about it often, he knows all the buildings in Uptown, down to the year they were created and the materials used to build them.
“Morrison Crossing,” he says as we take the first three steps. “On the east side, by the curve in the river. Built to be a boat depot but converted to a restaurant in 1967.”
We’ve made it through a full rotation without hurting each other or knocking someone over.
“See? Do it again.”
With a small smile, he tells me about the first hospital in the city. His back is still round, and he can’t keep his chin lifted, but we’re still upright.
“You should be an architect,” I tell him.
He slows, focusing on his feet again. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
His eyes shoot to mine, deep with hurt. “You know why.”
Because his dad broke his back on a job, and his family lost everything. Now Shrew has him focused on med schools, and his sights are set on becoming a spinal surgeon.
“I know,” I say. “It’s just that your sketches are so good. And you love talking about it. Your mom would understand if you talked to her.”
His grip tightens around my hand.
“I know she would.”
“So?”
He steps on my foot. “What do you want to be? What happens once you get your big fancy scholarship?”
I go to college. I get out of Sikawa City. I never really planned past that, probably because deep down, I never really thought it would happen.
My chest clenches, and suddenly I’m thinking of my mom.
I can picture her sitting on the blue couch in the living room at home, alone, since Pete’s in jail. She’s eating cold chicken wings from Gridiron Sports Bar as she watches Pop Store and talking back to the host of the show like he’s speaking directly to her.
We haven’t talked in a month, since I told her about Parents’ Weekend, this coming Saturday. I don’t even know if she’s coming—she wasn’t sure she could get off work.
You sound good, she told me. Now quit bugging me, I’ve got stuff to do.
We both know she didn’t, but that’s how we do love in my family.
“Don’t change the subject,” I tell Caleb.
He sighs.
“When my dad got hurt, we didn’t know what to do. My mom had to make all these decisions, but we couldn’t even grasp what parts of his back were broken. She wonders all the time if we should have done things differently. She can’t go through that again.”
I imagine his family gathered in the hospital, trying to decide what to do. Wondering if they made the right decision when Caleb’s dad didn’t wake up. I picture his mom, blaming herself, and Caleb blaming himself for not being able to help her.
It’s why he’s here. Why he works for Dr. O.
He’s doing what he can to keep his father alive.
As long as I can remember, I’ve been trying to get out of Devon Park. I’ve conned, stolen, and fought tooth and nail for what I need. I’ve never faced the burden of caring for another person—of someone depending on me for their survival.
“None of this is your fault,” I say.
“It’s my fault if I don’t do anything about it.” The outside of his foot bumps against mine. “Sorry.”
But I barely felt it, because my heart is suddenly too big for my chest, and all I can think of is how he’s putting his family in front of himself, and how noble and unfair that is.
“Architecture’s more like a hobby anyway,” he says, and if there’s any regret in his tone, it’s swallowed up by a practiced smile.
The door behind us opens and Moore strides in, looking more annoyed than usual.
“You have a new student,” he says to Belk.
Behind him stands Grayson, wearing a rumpled Vale Hall sweatshirt, jeans, and a look of simmering rage.
CHAPTER 7
I jerk back from Caleb, clasping my hands before me.
“Come on,” Belk says when Grayson doesn’t move.
Grayson, hair mashed up on one side like he’s just rolled out of bed, trudges after him.
“Your new partner,” Moore says. “Caleb, you’re with Geri.”
With a jolt, I realize I’ve yet to touch base with Geri or tell her about my little challenge with Grayson. I don’t think he’s stupid enough to try to break in while she’s sleeping, but I need to warn her just in case.
“Hey,” Caleb says to Grayson, words light but gaze hard. “Heard you were here. Welcome.”