Buried secrets, two girls with the same face, and a boy who loved too much.
***
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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IT WAS TWO days after the intense episode in the pool with Travis. Two days, and I still couldn't get his words out of my mind.
"They love you."
Honestly, it felt a bit debatable.
People who loved you supported your dreams instead of discouraging you, no? They could've been there for me, but they weren't. There were always excuses upon excuses to skip my dance recitals. Every single time.
I was sitting in front of my dad in the living room after dinner, cradling a can of chilled orange juice. He held a newspaper, but his attention was on me. On the outside I looked calm, but inwardly, my thoughts were spiraling out of control.
"Whatever it is," my dad said, "just let it out."
The clock in the living room ticked. The air conditioner hummed lowly. His eyes, though kind and gentle, seemed aloof. Always aloof. Like he was present in body but never really there.
"I don't know how to begin." My voice was low. I bumped my knees together, chewing on my lip. "Dad...do you, like, maybe..." I sucked in a breath. "Do you love me?"
His eyes widened with surprise, obviously not expecting this question. "Of course, I do," he said earnestly. "Why would you doubt that?"
I swallowed, looking away from him to study the cold can in my hands.
"Well, because you never wanted me to bother you with my dancing?" I laughed nervously, still avoiding his eyes. "You're always so... distant." Didn't care enough. Never bothered enough. Just there, in the background. "We barely talk."
There was rustling as he carefully folded the newspaper and set it beside him on the sofa. He sat straighter.
"You're right," he agreed softly, making my eyes snap up with surprise. I'd expected denial, defense, anything but agreement. "I've not been good enough for you, Nicole, and I'm extremely sorry."
For a moment, I was speechless. His eyes looked so sad and sincere that it tugged at my heartstrings.
I honestly couldn't remember a time when I'd held my father's undivided attention like right now. He wasn't a bad guy, no. But he wasn't the best guy either, and he'd wounded me.
I felt let down, disappointed. Betrayed. Not just by him, but by my mother too. Especially when they allowed Aunt Pearl to take care of my tuition.
The mere reminder sent a wave of fresh pain through me.
"You weren't improving," he said, and I refrained from asking him how he knew that when he'd attended only one dance recital when I was little. "I—we thought dancing wasn't really your thing, and maybe there was something else for you, something you were yet to discover. I didn't pause to check if you only needed some push, and I'm extremely sorry. I'll be glad if you forgive me."
