We Are Tidal

Chapter Twenty-One - Dangerous Distractions

Chapter Twenty-One 

Dangerous Distraction

"Can you please try not to literally become dead weight when I lift you?" Gabriel Heaver begs me, rolling out his wrists on the smooth dance studio floor. He's fallen to his knees, non-too-gently dropping me in the process. Massaging my tailbone, I scowl at Gab. 

"Is that code for calling me fat?" I crouch, intending my words to be a joke, and he immediately flushes. 

"God no, sorry," He replies, pausing the music and it's my turn to blush when I catch sight of myself in the wall of mirrors by the barre. My ribs are bruised and visible under my sports bra. I know that since I saw Gab over a year ago, I am drastically thinner due to my depression, grief, and lack of general self-care. The basics like food seemed trivial once my parents were gone. 

Sometimes I think that if it wasn't for my girls, I wouldn't be alive. 

I shrug off his embarrassment, grabbing a foam roller and glancing at the clock over the door. 

"We only have another fifteen minutes," I groan, wincing as my thigh is stretched. Gab is downing his water, cracking his ankles. 

We've been working hard in rehearsals for hours, having booked the room for most of the day. So far, we've been running on coffee, energy bars, and sheer adrenaline. 

"Let's do it then, one last time," He nods, switching on his Spotify again. 

Our routine is a smooth lyrical number, both romantic and powerful. The music tells the story of a girl, troubled and unable to live with herself being saved by the gentility of a boy. It's a little on-the-nose for me, but at least it showcases our strengths. 

Every day I find myself thankful for Gab and I's friendship because it makes it easy to mimic powerful emotions. He may be gay, but we can fake love as good as the next pair of dancers. It's a total of two and a half minutes long, the maximum allotted time for any duet within Collegiate Starpower competition. 

Today is our last training day and so far, it has been going terribly. I've slipped out of my straddle jump, almost twisted my ankle on a split leap and more than once, it has been my fault that our most dangerous lift has fallen because of my lack of form. 

However, this, our last run-through, is perfect. We both let out deep sighs of relief when we release our final pose, collapsing onto the floor, hands still grasping each other tightly. Gab leans over and kisses my cheek. 

"We did good, kiddo," He beams, as happy as I am that we nailed it. 

"Kiddo?" I grin, relieved that the ache in ribs from Gab's hands meant it had worked. "I am only one year younger than you." 

Gab simply shrugs, taking his hand back to wipe some sweat from his forehead. 

"I relate you to Art and he's my kid brother." 

I roll my eyes and move to get up. I grab my hoodie, getting ready to stretch before going home and hopping into a nice, warm bath. Maybe with a Lush bath bomb.

"Have you spoken to him yet?" Gab asks, pulling me away from my dreams of bath bombs and lavender-scented bathrobes.

I hide with my hoodie over my head for a few moments, knowing that he isn't speaking about Art. He wants to know if I have ended things with Damien yet. At this point, our relationship is so dysfunctional anyway I don't know why I'm delaying the process.

"Can we not go there?" I almost beg. Thankfully, Gab indulges me and nods. I don't want to know if Art told his brothers about me kissing him. Part of me hopes he hasn't when I had technically cheated on Damien.

Still, I can't bring myself to regret it. 

"We need to just get through tomorrow. I'll deal with it then," I vow, more to myself than any Heaver boy. 

Gab's mouth splits into a grin as he pats me on the back jovially. 

"We're gonna do more than get through it, we're gonna win it." 

*

I sleep fitfully the night before the competition and even resort to texting Damien back, telling him I've been busy with practice. He surprises me by telling me not to worry about it. 

I lie flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. It's barely dawn and my alarm hasn't gone off yet. It will be a long day, once the Heavers come and pick me up and we drive to the nearby city to the competition. Rolling over, I curl in on myself, trying not to disturb my two restful bedmates. 

My glorious puppies, Arya and Sansa are wrapped around each other. Arya is snoring, Sansa is snuffling. 

My phone beeps once and I see it's an Instagram private message from Gab, telling me that he hopes I'm awake and buzzed for the day ahead. I reply to him on Snapchat, sending him a shot of my bed head and telling him that I feel half dead. He replies with a picture of Art, holding a handful of coffee cups.

This lights a fire under me as I jump to my feet, dislodging a growling Sansa and rushing to the bathroom. They were going to be early. 

Thankfully, by the time the doorbell rang, I had my hair tucked into a ballet bun and I was scoffing down a smoothie. 

"Looking...sallow," Kit remarks upon barging through the door and seeing my tanned legs and arms. I kick him gently in the ankle and kiss goodbye to my puppies. Outside, I find two cars and stop in my tracks, my gym bag with my costumes slipping off my shoulder. 

In one car, I spy Albert, Gab, and Willow. Presumably, Kit is driving. In the other, Art sits in the front seat of his jeep, looking at me with a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Just get in the car," Kit says, taking my keys from me and locking the house for me. 

When I slide in next to Art, he looks a little nervous as he wraps and rewraps his fingers around the wheel. I only speak after the rest of our party have driven around us, Willow winking at me from the rearview window. 

"Who made you do this?" I ask as Art gets into gear and moves away from the curb. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. 

"Would you hate me if I said it was my idea?" 

He doesn't notice me roll my eyes. I play with the frayed edges of my sleeves. 

"I haven't ended things with Damien," I whisper. Art doesn't speak for a few minutes, so I turn on the radio and hit play on Baz Luhrmann's Sunscreen. 

Before I can pull my hand away, Art takes hold of it, ever-so-lightly. When I freeze, Art lets go. 

"I want you to know that I'm not pressuring you to do anything," He says as if he's rehearsed this part of his speech more than once. 

I nod and doing what feels right, without thinking for once, I reach out and rest my hand on his thigh. Moving closer, he drops a hand to mine and holds it. 

We don't talk for the rest of the drive, but neither of us let go. Even when my phone buzzes and his rings, we ignore them. Neither of us wants to let go. Not ever again.

Not until we pull into the Starpower auditorium parking lot to find Damien, resting back against his motorbike, arms crossed over his chest and staring right at us.

N/A: 

Thank you lovely readers for joining me for another week! As usual, I love Dyl and Art... But I feel mildly bad for Damien? Is that wrong? 

Jens xx