Everything with you

Part 53

Justin

The moment I opened the door, Joanna barreled into me, nearly knocking the breath out of my lungs. "I missed you, dummy!" she said, squeezing me tight before pulling back to inspect me like a lost puppy finally found. Dad stood behind her, a small, knowing smile on his face as he set down their bags. It had only been a few weeks since I'd last seen them, but it felt longer—especially with everything going on.

"Hey" he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "You look tired." I forced a grin.

"You look old." He chuckled, shaking his head, but there was something behind his eyes—something serious. I knew why they were here. And I knew what was coming.

His smile faded as he got a better look at me. His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. "What happened to your face?" he asked, his voice calm but firm. I shrugged, turning away under the weight of his stare. "Nothing. Just—practice got a little rough." He wasn't buying it. "Looks more like a fight," he said, crossing his arms. That made me pause. "How do you know?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. Dad exhaled through his nose, the way he always did when he was about to drop some inconvenient truth. "Coach Miller called me." My stomach tightened. "Don't know why he'd do that," I muttered, but Dad just shook his head. "Because he's my friend, Justin. We played together in high school." My head snapped up at that.  I had a very bad feeling about where this conversation was headed.

We barely made it five minutes into the talk before Joanna burst in, her eyes wide with excitement, completely derailing the conversation. He had just started—something about Coach Grayson calling him, about my grades, about me sitting on the bench instead of playing—when she grabbed my arm, practically bouncing on her toes.

"Justin, please take me to my old dance studio! I told my friends I'd stop by, and I have to see them!" I glanced at Dad, hoping he'd tell her no, but instead, he just let out a tired sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We'll finish this later," he said, his voice carrying that unmistakable this isn't over tone. I nodded, grabbing my keys as Joanna cheered and ran for the door. If nothing else, I'd bought myself a few more hours before facing whatever he had to say.

Grateful for the escape, I grabbed my keys and told Joanna to hurry up, gladly avoiding Dad's looming lecture. As we walked to the car, I felt something else creeping in—something lighter. Excitement. Not just because I was getting out of the conversation, but because I knew who else I'd be seeing at the studio. Emma. Twice in one day. I caught myself smiling as I thought about last night, about this morning. Maybe—just maybe—I had another shot. I'd broken up with her thinking I was doing the right thing, that she deserved better. But seeing her again, being so close after so long, made me realize I couldn't just walk away from what we had. And, okay, I had to admit—therapy had helped me figure that out too. The sessions Coach made me take weren't the worst thing in the world. They made me realize I had to deal with what I felt instead of running from it. Emma had made me a better person, whether she knew it or not. And today, on her birthday, I had the perfect excuse to see her again. After leaving her dorm this morning, I'd stopped to pick up a gift. Now, I just had to find the right moment to give it to her.

The studio was buzzing with energy, a mix of music and laughter filling the air as Joanna excitedly reunited with her old friends. I leaned against the doorway, watching as Emma stood beside me, arms crossed, a small smile playing on her lips. We didn't have to say much—just being here, together, felt... right. When Joanna's teacher came over, I expected her to remind us about closing time, but instead, she gave me an amused look and said, "Why don't you take Emma out for a birthday dinner? I'll close up here." I glanced at Emma, whose eyebrows lifted in surprise, but before she could say anything, Joanna nearly exploded with excitement. "Oh my gosh, yes! That's perfect!" She spun toward Emma. "You have to go; it's your birthday!".