Through to You (24 page)

I focus as best as I can on the moves, letting myself get lost in the music. For the first few steps I can feel myself being timid. I'm too aware of the three people watching me, and an inventory of their impressive qualifications is rolling through my head. I'm imagining them making up dances for Britney, for Beyoncé, for Katy Perry, and I'm not just letting go. I can't stop worrying about what they must think of me.

But then I tell myself to forget all that. Instead I listen for the beats, feel them pulse through my body. This is what I love about dance. Even though I'm not the best dancer, I love the way my body feels when I'm doing it. I love the way the movements make you feel like you're free, like you're floating.

When the song ends, I realize that after those first few steps, I've heard every single note of it, that I've been in the moment with every bar, every lyric, every beat. At the same time I can't remember exactly what I did. It's like my body just took over and did what it was always meant to.

“Thanks, Harper,” the three of them say, writing on their sheets.

“You're welcome,” I say. “Thanks for letting me audition for you.”

When I walk out of the room, I'm sweaty and smiling, and
I feel happy and rejuvenated. I don't even mind the fact that the other girls are giving me looks, sizing me up and trying to figure out if I've stolen a spot that could have been theirs. It doesn't bother me, because these aren't the kind of girls who end up in the dance program anyway. When I went to visit earlier this year, everyone was nice and friendly and eager to help.

I walk outside, and the sun is shining, and I feel better than I have in a while. I think about calling my mom, or texting Anna to tell them how well it went. But then I decide to hold it in for just a little bit longer. I want it to be my secret for a few more moments. I don't want to tell anyone else.

Yes, you do,
a voice whispers.
You want to tell Penn.

I try to tell myself it's not true.

But I know deep down that it is. The only person I want to tell is Penn.

I have to find her.

I need to get to her.

But I don't know where she is. I know she's not at school. I drive by her house, but her car isn't in the driveway. I wish I could remember where that stupid audition was, but I'm not sure if she ever even told me. And if she did and I can't remember, well, then, no wonder she hates me. It's just another reason I was a completely shitty boyfriend.

I don't realize where I'm going until I pull up in front of the dance studio. And there it is. Her car, in the parking lot. She must be done with her audition. She must be in the studio.

I cut the engine and rush inside. Her mom's there, teaching that crazy couple, the one who was here that first day.

“You're stepping on my feet!” the girl screeches. “Jeremy, stop it! What are you trying to do, break my toes? You weigh, like, two hundred pounds!”

“Okay,” Harper's mom says, rubbing her temples. “Maybe we should take a small break.”

She tries to smile, but I can tell she's completely annoyed with the both of them. And I don't blame her. They're acting like absolute babies.

“Hi,” I say. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Penn,” Harper's mom says, seemingly startled. “What are you doing here?”

“Is Harper here?”

Her mom shakes her head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. She's at her audition.”

“But her car's in the parking lot.”

“We switched cars this morning,” her mom says. “She took mine because she's been having some trouble with hers, and she wanted to make sure nothing got in the way of her audition.”

“Oh.” I hate that I don't know this. I hate that I don't know Harper was having car trouble and that I wasn't there to help her. I take a deep breath. “Do you know where her audition is? I kind of need to talk to her.”

Her mom shakes her head again. “I really don't think that's a good idea. Harper needs to focus on what she's doing.”

“Oh, I'm not going to barge in or anything.” I'm not sure if I'm going to or not, actually. I mean, I intend on waiting in the parking lot, but now that I've made this decision, now that I've
decided I need to talk to Harper, then I need to talk to Harper. “I'm just going to wait until she's done.”

Harper's mom shakes her head. “I don't think it's a good idea, Penn.”

“Please,” I say, and I can hear the desperation in my voice. “I just . . . I need to talk to her, and she's not . . . I need to talk to her in person.”

“Oh, tell him,” the girl dance student, Kaitlyn or whatever, says. “He's obviously in love.”

The guy sort of laughs, but Kaitlyn gives him a soft punch on the shoulder. “Don't you dare make fun of him! He's in love. He's willing to do things for the woman he loves, unlike you.”

“Whaddya call this?” the guy asks. “I'm here, aren't I? I'm doing this stupid dance for you!”

“Please,” I say to Harper's mom, not even caring that the guy is basically calling me a wimp. I kind of deserve it for telling him to get some balls when I first met him. “I need to see her. I won't barge in on her audition, I swear.”

Harper's mom sighs. I can tell she doesn't want to tell me. I try to convince myself it's not the end of the world, that I'll just wait until Harper's done, until she's home, and then I'll be able to talk to her.

But at the last second Harper's mom must take pity on me, because before I know what's happening, she says, “It's the Crowne Plaza in Natick.”

I'm running out the door before she even finishes her sentence. “Thank you,” I call over my shoulder. “Thank you.”

I'm sitting in the hotel restaurant eating a piece of chocolate cake when Penn comes barging into the lobby looking like a man possessed. I watch, dumbfounded, as he sits down on one of the couches in the check-in area, his leg moving up and down like he can't sit still.

What the hell is he doing here? Is he here to see me? No. It makes no sense. Why would he be here to see me? I watch him for a moment, and I feel a whirlwind of emotion stirring up inside me, and I expect it to turn into a hurricane, to overtake me, but it doesn't. It just sort of moves through my body like a dust storm, before settling in my stomach and staying there.

He looks gorgeous, his dark hair flopping over his forehead the way it does, his eyes dark and intense the way they
always are. He pulls out his phone and texts someone.

I remember that my phone is off, and I pull it out and turn it on.

The texts pop up right away.

At an appointment with another doctor. I miss you. A lot.

And then, a second later, the one he just sent.

I'm in the lobby. I'll wait for you.

He looks up at that moment, almost like he knows I'm watching him. And then he gets up and walks over to me. I stand up.

“Hey,” he says softly. He shoves his hands into his pockets and gives me a half smile.

“What are you doing here?” I blurt.

“I came to see you.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Your mom told me.”

“You talked to my
mom
?”

“Yeah. I thought you might have been at the studio, so I went there, and she told me.”

I don't know if I want to kiss her or kill her. Why would she tell him where I am? Am I happy he's here? I don't know.

“You're eating chocolate cake?” he asks.

“Yes.” Chocolate cake is Penn's favorite. I know I should offer him some, but I don't.

“How did the audition go?” he asks.

“Fine.” I don't want to tell him how it went. I don't want to tell him how well it went, how amazing I felt afterward, and
how not being able to share it with him was the only thing that kept the moment from being perfect.

“Good.” He looks at me, and then takes a step toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “God, Harper,” he says into my ear. “I missed you so much.”

His breath tickles my skin, and I break into goose bumps. “Penn,” I say quietly, and use every ounce of my self-control to force myself to take a step back. “Why are you here?”

“I went to another doctor,” he says. “Dr. Marzetti.”

I don't say anything.

“Harper, she thinks she can fix my shoulder.”

I inhale sharply. “She can?”

He nods. “It's not a definite, but she's the first one who even thinks there's a chance.”

He reaches for me again, and this time, when his arms encircle me and pull me into his chest, I don't resist. I lean into him. He feels so good and . . . I love him. It's the first time the word has entered my mind, and it's shocking and weird to feel like I love him. But I do. I really do love him.

“Can we get out of here?” he murmurs into my hair. “Can we leave? Because I really want to talk to you.”

I open my mouth to say yes. But then I stop myself. I remember how it felt these past three weeks, how my heart broke every time I passed by him in the hall, how every time I looked at my phone and saw he hadn't texted me, I died a little inside.

I pull back. “Penn,” I say. “You can't . . . I mean, we can't just pretend like nothing happened.”

“No, I know,” he says. “I don't want to pretend anymore, Harper. I want to talk about things.”

I look into his eyes, trying to figure out if he means it. He's not lying to me—at least, not intentionally. I know he thinks he means what he's saying. But Penn can't just switch things on and off, depending on his mood of the moment. What's going to happen when he gets bad news from this doctor? Or when he comes out of surgery and finds out he can't play the way he used to? What happens when I ask him about his family again, and he completely shuts down? Then what?

I shake my head.

“Penn,” I say. “I'm sorry. I can't.”

And then I turn around and run.

And that's how I end up crying in the bathroom of the Crowne Plaza in Natick, my broken heart in pieces all around me.

This is how it ends:

With me standing here alone in the restaurant of the hotel while Harper runs away from me.

I don't understand.

She wanted me to let her in.

And now that I'm finally ready, she's running.

* * *

After that things go back to normal.

I go to school.

I come home.

My dad disappears and reappears. I see Harper every day at school, and every day it starts to hurt a little bit less.

I schedule my surgery with Dr. Marzetti. By the end of
the summer, I'll know if the surgery has worked. I get in touch with some of the recruiters from schools that lost interest after I got hurt. Surprisingly, they're happy to hear from me, and excited to know that I might soon be back to full strength.

I start to get back to the gym, and even do a couple of workouts with the baseball team. It's after one of these workouts that I run into Jackson. He's at his car, loading his stuff into his trunk.

I don't realize I was following him until I'm standing right behind him.

He slams the trunk shut and turns around. When he sees me, he holds his hands up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says, like he's surrendering. “If you want to start something, don't do it on school property. If I get written up one more time, Coach is going to have a hissy fit.”

“I don't want to fight you.” I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wanted to thank you.”

He stops and looks at me skeptically. “Thank me? For what?”

“For getting me that doctor's appointment.”

He shakes his head. “You're kidding me, right?”

“No.”

“Dude, you came to my house a few weeks ago looking like you wanted to beat my ass because I made you that appointment.”

“I know.” I look up at him. “I was wrong for the way I treated you.” As I'm saying it, I realize I'm talking about more
than just what happened that day at his house. I'm talking about what happened after the accident, about how I just completely shut him out after I got hurt. Of course it wasn't Jackson's fault. And I knew that.

Jackson stands there for a long moment, and then nods. “What made you change your mind?”

I shrug. “After I went to that appointment, it made me realize that bad news isn't the end of the world. There's always a chance for something better.”

He nods. “And Harper?”

I'm surprised he noticed she was a part of it. But when I think about it, I'm really not that surprised. I mean, he's my best friend. “Harper changed my mind too,” I say. “She was a big part of it.”

“But you're not together?”

I shake my head. “She doesn't . . . It was too late.”

Jackson shakes his head and twirls his key ring around his finger the way I've seen him do a million times before. “It's never too late, Mattingly.” He grins and gets into the car. “If you want her, get her.”

And then he slams the door and drives away.

Here's what happens:

Anna gets over Nico and develops this major crush on a guy named Howard Pierce. He's a junior, and she spends tons of time talking about how great a singer he is, and how he's this untapped talent who's going to do big things.

The weather gets hotter, and everyone starts amping up for graduation. No one can sit still in class, and school becomes an excruciating exercise in waiting and anticipation.

It's humid and muggy the day I get my acceptance letter for the choreography program at Ballard. I run into the house, screaming and yelling as I wave the letter in the air like a crazy person. My mom hugs me close and tells me how proud she is of me.