Dancing for the Lord The Academy - By Emily Goodman Page 0,71

Danni could practically see them racing behind his eyes—but he didn’t say any of them.

He just turned and strode out of the room.

She couldn’t let him go off like that—couldn’t leave him alone while he struggled with whatever emotions those words had brought up. “Excuse me.” She didn’t look at anyone as she jumped to her feet and hurried after him.

It didn’t take her long to find him. Nick was standing outside, breathing hard as he shoved his hands into his pockets and stared up at the star-filled sky.

She skidded to a stop, not sure whether or not he would be welcome. Looking up like that…she was sure that he had taken his pain to God, and God was far better equipped to deal with it than she.

Speak to him. The voice of God resounded gently in her heart—and Danni made a practice of never ignoring that still, small voice.

“Nick?” she said quietly.

He looked over at her. There were no tears in his eyes, no trace of them on his face; but for just an instant, she felt every one of them nonetheless. “It’s nothing new, Danni,” he told her tiredly. “Just the same bile he’s been spewing all my life.”

“It’s cruel,” she said flatly.

“It’s reality.” Nick’s correction was very gentle. “He wanted a son who did manly things—and he’s convinced that if I’m not interested in those things, then of course there must be something wrong with me.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with you.” She reached out to him, but let her hand fall away before she actually touched him. “You just happen to be very good at something that most men aren’t good at, that’s all.”

He chuckled hoarsely. “Don’t you wish it were that easy?”

“Yes.” Her voice was small. “I wish your father could see it that way.”

He was silent for several seconds; there was a faint hint of jealousy in his voice as he asked, “Did Michael have this problem?”

Danni hesitated. Michael’s struggles with his father were private; since he would be joining her at the Academy next year, it didn’t seem fair to air his dirty laundry to someone else. On the other hand….

“Yeah,” she said softly. If it would help Nick to realize that he wasn’t the only one who had to deal with this kind of nonsense, she would give him at least a little peek at Michael’s story—no matter how difficult it might be. “Yeah, Michael’s dad…he didn’t like that his son was a dancer.”

“Didn’t.” Nick picked up on the key word immediately.

“Didn’t,” she agreed.

“What changed?”

She hesitated, but finally admitted, “He realized that he was in danger of losing the son he had if he didn’t accept him for who he was.”

All of the hope faded from Nick’s eyes. “Mine doesn’t care.”

There was nothing that Danni could say to that—no words that even stood a chance of making it better. This was an old wound, she realized, and one that Nick had dealt with time and again over his years as a dancer.

It seemed a heavy price to pay—and in his place, Danni wasn’t sure she would have been able to handle it. She had always known that she had her father’s support and his love.

Nick had never known the support and love of his father.

All she could do was tuck her hand in his again and lead him quietly back to his house. She had intended to go in with him; but when they reached it, Nick pulled back and simply shook his head. “I need some time alone, Danni,” he admitted tiredly.

She started to protest. He didn’t need to be alone—not in that much pain. The look in his eyes, however, stopped her. He needed to be with the one who could comfort him more than anyone else in the world—the one who understood everything that had ever happened between him and his father, and who had been there for him through all of it. “All right,” she said at last. “Just…make sure you ice that shoulder before you go to bed, all right?”

“I will.” He squeezed her hand gratefully. “I won’t let you down tomorrow, Danni—I promise.”

“I’m not worried about that.” She stared straight into his eyes, wishing that she could impress him with the force of her caring. “I’m worried about you.”

Nick felt tension draining out him at that—tension that he hadn’t thought he would ever be able to lose. “Thanks, Danni,” he said huskily.

“Hey.” She caught his hand for a last moment before releasing him once and for all.