Learning - By Karen Kingsbury Page 0,77

noticed the shock to his system. In a hurry he scrambled back to the trapdoor and down the ladder, where he made a grandiose bow for the cheering crowd. He caught Cheyenne’s full-faced grin, the way her eyes held his, and he wondered if his racing heart was because of the ice water … or because of his feelings for the girl across the field.

Long after the picnic was over, after he had taken Cheyenne home and brought DeMetri back to the apartment so they could finish packing for camp, Cody replayed the day in his mind. Every wonderful detail about it. The way the town supported him and the team, the look in Cheyenne’s eyes … and the quiet words of support from the mayor.

You’re a breath of fresh air for this town. A real answer to prayer. Cody felt the man’s approval to his core. Like his counselor had told him a week ago, the position at Lyle was better for him than any therapy. Whereas Bailey no longer needed him, as coach at Lyle High, Cody had a purpose. The kids needed him and Cheyenne needed him. And somewhere in his brain those single truths caused his time in Iraq to be worthwhile. Which meant he didn’t need to think about the past or dwell on it or relive it. Very simply those days had led him to this.

Where maybe God had planned for him to be all along.

Sixteen

HER PERFORMANCE WASN’T HALFWAY FINISHED, BUT BAILEY wondered how she could feel so miserable dancing on Broadway. She hoped no one in the audience could tell what she was thinking while she danced and sang and smiled her heart out alongside her castmates. They were almost finished with “Welcome to the Sixties,” but all Bailey could think about was Francesca, and how somewhere in the dark recesses of the theater, the woman was watching her, judging her, evaluating whether she would stay another week.

Before she went on stage, Bailey sought out the director and explained that she had signed up for private dance instruction. The idea of training had come to her on the flight back from Indiana. Something she could do to show she was serious about “Four mornings a week I’ll work on my technique.”

Francesca said nothing, just looked at Bailey like she was weighing the worth of the effort she was making. When the space between them remained silent, Bailey forged ahead. She’d come up with the plan on the flight home from Indiana. And she also wanted to let Francesca know her concerns about Chrissy.

“I think she’s anorexic.” Bailey didn’t hint around, though she’d kept her tone quiet. “She says she’s getting help, but … I wanted someone else to talk to her. Just in case.”

Francesca’s response was the reason Bailey usually kept her distance from the woman outside rehearsals. She lowered her chin and raised her eyebrows. “About the dance instruction … it’s about time.” She barely paused. “About Chrissy … like I already asked you … mind your own business. Don’t judge the cast.”

The conversation played again in Bailey’s mind as they finished the number. Chrissy was dancing beside her, and she seemed to work harder than usual. She was thinner than she’d been a few weeks ago — but only Bailey seemed worried. Before they stepped on stage earlier that night, Bailey caught Chrissy taking a small fistful of white pills.

“Why do you do that?” Bailey tried to keep her tone kind, not accusing. “I mean … aren’t you afraid of what they might do?”

“They give me energy.” Chrissy smiled in a way that was more condescending than kind. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Of course I would.” Bailey hated that her friend thought she didn’t struggle. “I’m not as good as you. Which means I have to work harder.” She kept her voice to a whisper since they were in the wings, ready to perform. “Of course I get tired.”

“Not like I do.” Chrissy’s expression told her the conversation was over. “It’s a hard business for most of us.” Her smile held a sadness that she had never quite talked about. “My resume doesn’t have a movie credit with Brandon Paul.”

“Chrissy …” Bailey felt like crying. “Can we get past that? Really?”

Her friend’s eyes held an apology for the first time Bailey could remember. “I’m sorry.” She released a shaky breath. “It’s not your fault. You’ve lived a charmed life, Bailey. That’s not how it is for me. It’s a fight, that’s all. Life.

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