Dancer Read Free Page A

as seventy-five dollars in one evening. Of course it helped to be nice to the customers.
    Some waitresses acted impatient or rude and got very little in tips. If they didn't work hard or at least pretend to be nice, they didn't deserve better.
    Either way, I looked forward to taking a few days off.
    Early in August, on the first day of my vacation, Allison and I went for a walk in the city park. No, not the same park where I had sex with that guy. A larger park filled with trees, lavish gardens and paved trails.
    And no horrible memories of my worst-ever mistake. Just the way I liked it.
    "Sam, you never told me how it went with the doctor," Allison said, placing her hand on my arm to stop me. "Did you get cured for your STD?"
    I avoided her questioning stare.
    "You didn't get checked by a doctor yet?" Allison's voice took on a hysterical pitch.
    "No." Brief silence. "I'll be right back. I have to use the bathroom." I pivoted and rushed to the restroom, evading any more of Allison's questions—for now.
    I had to go anyway, though I hadn't realized it until I actually sat on the toilet. Go figure.
    Afterward I froze when I noticed him standing outside. My palm remained on the bathroom door and I fought the urge to duck back inside.
    Shit. Too late.
    "Sammy," he said under his breath. I cringed hearing that nickname. Oh how I hated it.
    How I hated him .
    "Hi Caleb." Reluctantly coming over to join him, I squinted in the beaming midday sunlight.
    And anguish—at seeing my ex again—tore a hole in my heart. Shitty memories stormed back. Memories I'd tried to keep buried.
    "How've you been, Sammy? I missed you," said the horrid ex-boyfriend with grey eyes and brown hair. The horrid ex-boyfriend who loved to punish me verbally and use words as a deadly weapon.
    "I've been okay." And no I haven't missed you, Caleb.
    "I got a job with an ad agency," he said as if I'd care. "Finally get to use my college education." He winked.
    "That's great. I'm happy for you." I forced a grin.
    "Hey, I gotta go—but I'd like to see you again sometime. Okay?"
    "Uh, yeah. Sure. I'll see you later." I started to leave. Without warning, Caleb pulled me into his arms and held me fast.
    I stiffened in his unwanted embrace while my arms dangled near his sides.
    What did he really want from me? A friends and benefits deal?
    I'd never do it.
    "I mean it. I want to see you again so I might call you later," Caleb whispered. He withdrew and strode down the walkway as if he hadn't a care in the world.
    I continued to worry about his true agenda.
    Late the next evening, Allison and I lounged on the picnic table in my parents' fenced-in backyard. On the seat below, she was sprawled on her stomach while I lay on the top surface and watched the clustered stars.
    We shared a joint since Mom and Dad had gone to bed. I savored the feeling of being high, considering my nerves had been totally fucked.
    Seeing Caleb yesterday didn't help. Although this soothing joint sure did.
    Nice to be able to forget, be in a silly mood and laugh at the dumbest things.
    I'd told Allison about Caleb. All talk of doctor visits and STDs were subsequently forgotten, replaced by horrible-ex-boyfriend-drama-wank.
    "Did Caleb call?" Allison's tone was slow, calm, her voice difficult to hear.
    "Yeah. We're supposed to see each other tomorrow night." By then I'd know his agenda, whether it be a no-strings-attached quickie or second-chance relationship.
    I didn't want a second-chance relationship, though it wouldn't hurt to see him one time. More than anything I pitied him.
    I hoisted myself to a sitting position, crossed my legs. She passed the marijuana cigarette to me and I took a hit.
    Smoky rings floated in the night air.
    Allison joined me on top of the picnic table. She cuddled me from behind.
    It remained eerily quiet as we huddled together. Then Allison's voice shattered the silence.
    "Don't let Caleb hurt you."

3
    M y date with Caleb ended.
    I hated to admit it, but I'd enjoyed