with the last semester of high school.
But there was little money, and the center was falling apart.
Enter Olivia Holt and the Ingenui Foundation.
“Kay’s awesome,” I say.
Olivia turns her attention back to Dad, closing me out of the circle. I bristle at the snub, but I’m more intrigued by the fact that Dad hardly notices. Olivia asks about his job and the state of the economy here in Stratus. He tells her things are rough, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit jacket. Classy.
“The foundation could lift some of the strain, Keith. We have resources,” she says, placing a freshly manicured hand on Dad’s bicep.
Is she flirting? With my dad?
My head spins at the thought, and I lose track of the conversation. Dad’s dated here and there, but always women I knew. Always women from town and never anything serious.
“Brielle’s getting ready to head off to college, right, baby? Dance scholarship.”
My stomach clenches. I avoid his gaze and smile as sweetly as I can at Olivia.
“Oh, congratulations. I do envy you.” Her eyes drift off. “College was one of the happier times in my life.”
There’s a break in the crowd, and I catch sight of Miss Macy. Talk about saving the day. She winks at me and tilts her chin toward the stage.
“Excuse me. I’ve got a little thing to do.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” Olivia says, waving my dismissal. “Your dad and I can figure out how to pass the time. I’m sure of it.”
They laugh, Dad’s face turning fire-truck red. “Break a leg, baby.”
Anybody’s leg? The thought flies through my head unchecked. Dad’s voice carries across the gym floor as I make for the stage. He’s stammering a bit, bragging on me. To Olivia. He tells her about all the colleges I’ve been accepted to. About the dance scholarship from that “fancy school on the East Coast.”
He doesn’t tell her about my doubts. That the idea of leaving makes me ill. He doesn’t tell her, because he thinks it’s nothing but jitters. Cold feet. He thinks if he keeps talking about it, I’ll feel better about leaving Stratus for school.
To pursue dance. Again. ’Cause that turned out so great the first time.
Jake materializes out of the crowd and slides his hand into mine. “Where’d Jessica Rabbit come from?”
“That’s Olivia Holt,” I say.
“Kaylee’s favorite person in the world, Olivia Holt?”
“Yup.”
“I assumed she was just one big checkbook,” he says.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
“Everything okay with your dad?”
I blow a hair out of my face. “I guess. He keeps pushing college.”
We take a good seven steps before Jake says anything.
“It’s worth considering, Elle.”
Three more steps.
“I know.”
Jake stops and turns me toward him. “We’re still on for tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Good. ’Cause I have a surprise.”
My mind flies to the shiny black chest in Jake’s house. The one the Throne Room uses to communicate with Canaan. It’s cut from some sort of glorious-looking onyx and inside it sits a diamond engagement ring. My engagement ring.
I shake off the thought. It’s too soon. We’re too young.
And if Dad gets his way, I’m leaving town.
I start walking again, pulling Jake with me.
“ Another surprise?” I ask, gesturing to the tutu he’s now holding. “What can compete with that?”
“Well, it can’t, right? I mean, this thing is orange. And sparkly.”
We’re at the stage now. Miss Macy is there, prodding a wayward fairy princess back up the stairs.
“Whenever you’re ready for that lesson,” I say, “you slide that tutu back on, okay?”
“Bu-arf,” Kaylee says, pushing past me and grabbing the waist of my skirt. “Stop being so dreamy, Jake Shield. Twinkle Toes has a show to do.”
“I’ll be here,” Jake says, “holding my tutu.”
“And my heart,” I tell him, as theatrically as I can muster.
“I really am going to vomit.” Kaylee shoves me, and I slide toward our