Buried secrets, two girls with the same face, and a boy who loved too much.
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When Travis and Nicole meet on a bus for the first time, he thinks she's his ex, Rachel, who broke his heart two years ago. But he doesn't understand why she's pretendin...
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THE PAPARAZZI SWARMED around us as we stepped out of the theater and into the cool night. Blinding lights flashed, and a million questions shouted our way in loud and rapid succession as we descended the steps.
"Cornelia, who is this young lady?"
"Are you two friends?"
"How long have you known each other?"
"Why did you invite her on stage?"
"Should we expect a collab?"
"We're friends," she spoke into a mic that was shoved in her face. "Her name is Rebecca Abbott Nicole Dē, and she's someone I admire and wish would be my dance partner. It'd be an honor."
My mouth fell open in shock. More questions were shouted. More flashing camera lights. But what she'd just said gripped me so hard I was rendered immobile for a second. I replayed her words over and over, wondering if she meant them.
Or was it just for show?
After Cornelia had had enough questions answered for the night, she clutched my hand, and we maneuvered our way out of the crowded paparazzi.
For a minute, they followed us as we made our way to the parking lot, still screaming questions, their cameras snapping unapologetically away. When they saw a renowned ballerina make an appearance, they thankfully abandoned us and flocked to her.
I looked at Cornelia, trying to get my throat muscles to work. I wanted to ask if she meant what she'd said, but I was afraid I'd come across as too desperate.
I wanted to thank her for making me dance under the spotlight with her. It was such a priceless gift, and I would forever be grateful, but I didn't even know how to express the depth of my gratitude.
"Rebecca, please stop looking at me like that." She scrunched her face in disdain. "As flattered as I am, you're not my type. I'm straight and madly in love with a certain idiotic boy. Sorry."
I rolled my eyes so hard they could've fallen out, but I still smiled at her sass.
"It's funny though," she went on, "the way my brother is so overprotective of me. He thinks I'm always trying to sneak out to have a rendezvous with boys or something."
"You just said you're in love," I pointed out. "Don't you meet with him? Maybe that's what your brother is worried about."
She snorted. "Well, he doesn't have to worry about that. The boy I love is way out of my league and doesn't even notice me."
Despite her efforts not to, she did sound miserable.
"Why and how doesn't he notice you?" I furrowed my brows. "Is he a celebrity? One of your friends from dance?"
