Page 32

“What the fuck, Shannon?” I rise, not caring that my voice is loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Why would you put your plate there? That was a recipe for disaster, and the food looks disgusting. I did you a favor.”

My fists ball and release at my sides as I stare at the food I just thought about for three hours, splattered on the floor.

“You aren’t even going to help me clean it up?” I ask in disbelief.

Splotches of red and white sauce are all over my bag, tights, and practically covering the entire chair. Part of me is grateful I hadn’t rushed out of my costume, or else my travel clothes would’ve been ruined and reeked of garlic.

“Looks like you got it covered.”

I’m already on my knees with the paper towels one of the other dancers threw my way. When I look up at Shannon from the floor, her eye twitches like she’s about to smile.

I can’t fucking stand this girl.

Cleaning the spill, I make sure to leave the space around me as good as I found it. Before I know it, I’ve wasted all the time I had to eat, and the cars are here to take us to the airport.

“Got everything you need?” Rika asks as I exit the dressing room with my suitcase and duffle bag.

“I think so, yeah,” I grunt.

With one last glance, I watch the caterers begin their cleanup. The pasta that was once going to hold me over until we made it to Chicago is thrown in the garbage without a thought.

I’m so pissed, I’m not even hungry anymore.

The car ride is silent, thank God. Everyone’s energy is rightfully depleted from the evening.

When the cars pull onto the tarmac, we’re ushered out one by one, forming a line right outside the steps of the plane. As we board, the attendants wait with sharp smiles and sparkling sincerity—traits I couldn’t reciprocate right now even if I tried.

Inside, a faint smell of lavender feels disgustingly familiar. Even after one flight, the smell is too much. Behind it is always the reminder of him.

We fall into our same seats—an unspoken assignment for the rest of the tour, I guess. When I booked this tour, dreams of sitting around playing games or sharing a blanket with the other dancers crossed my mind, but after knowing them, sitting by myself seems to be the best-case scenario.

More than that, I was rushed out of the dressing room before I could grab anything to snack on, and I’m fucking hangry.

Before I can sit in the plush chair, I notice a small bag on top of my blanket. There wasn’t anything like this on the first flight, so I take a survey of the rest of the plane to make sure my chair isn’t the only one with something on it.

I breathe a little calmer when I notice that it’s not.

Moving the small Greenway Airline’s embroidered bag and blanket, I set them on the floor as I take my seat.

Curious as to what’s inside, I drape the blanket over my legs, bringing the slightly weighted gift to my lap. A card peeks from the top, and I turn over my shoulder quickly to make sure the rest of the plane is preoccupied opening their own bags, before I see what’s in mine.

It could just be something standard from the airline, but my racing pulse tells me otherwise. Slowly opening the card, it reads:

Sofia,

I wouldn’t mind seeing you in my clothes.

- Parker

Peeling away the tissue paper, light heather grey sweatpants take up the entire bag, and I flinch, almost throwing the gift from my lap.

Unable to lessen my curiosity, I run my fingers over the fabric, and my skin tingles.

This motherfucker really gave me his sweats.

Putting the tissue back inside, I set the bag as far in front of me as I can. He’s out of his mind if he thinks I’m ever putting any part of him on my body again.