The Path To Us - Jennifer Van Wyk Page 0,101

time and time again that we don’t have a future together.

“A few reasons, I guess.”

She nods, accepting my non-answer. Probably because she’s too afraid to know the truth. I watch as she twists around and stands to move to the center of the bed of my pickup and I know what I’m about to experience. Greatness. “Well, I think it’s dumb. If I could leave, I would. I’d find a way to get to New York and then I’d blow everyone’s minds on Broadway.”

A huge part of me wishes that was possible for her. To achieve her dreams of becoming a professional dancer and show the world what she has to offer.

The selfish part, though? Not so much. I want her here. Safe. Not in the spotlight that would steal her away from me. Where she would catch the attention of a man with more to offer her than me and she’d be lost to me forever.

I turn so I’m facing her, my knees tucked up to my chest and arms wrapped around my knees and I watch as she moves gracefully. Spinning slowly, arms circled above her head, she lifts up on her toes as if it’s second nature. Which for her, it is. She’s seductive without trying to be. I could watch her dance for hours and never tire of it. And the crazy part is, she’s self-taught. Her family never had the money for dance lessons but the local studio opened their doors for anyone in the community one Saturday when she was nine years old. It took one hour for her to fall in love with all forms of dancing and to grasp enough knowledge that she was able to become a beautiful dancer by only practicing in her bedroom.

In high school, she was on the dance team because it was the only way she could use dance as an outlet. The dance team was run completely on fundraisers and donations so anyone could afford it as long as they had talent. And she definitely has talent. She’s so good even the bitchy popular girls who normally turn down their noses at her for not having the money their parents do or the nicest clothes, couldn’t deny how incredible she is. And they don’t, either. They actually cheer her on.

“You could. Leave, I mean. You could, Sadie. Come with me to college. Your grades are good enough to get in. They have financial aid.”

She scoffs. “Right. And how do you suggest I pay for the financial aid once I’ve finished? Hooking?”

Anger, hot and consuming courses through my veins at her suggestion, joking or not. “Not fucking funny, Sadie.”

“Oh, come on,” she teases, giggling, doing a final spin before sitting down next to me and nudging my shoulder. “It was a little funny.”

I roll my eyes and decide it’s best not to get into it with her. If I admit how badly it pisses me off to imagine her even with another man, not to mention, doing it for money, she’ll go running for the hills. Fucking woman, she drives me crazy. I don’t know if I love her or not, but it feels a lot like love. Even though I’m only eighteen, there’s something inside that tells me she’s the one for me. Maybe it makes me pathetic, but I’m willing to be patient and wait for years if it means she’ll eventually come around.

“I don’t know why you think staying here is bad. I love Lakeside.”

“It isn’t bad. I know that. I do love it here, and honestly, if I ended up in New York somehow, I’d miss this place and want to come back. It’s home, you know? I don’t think I could handle that many people around me all the time. And this,” she gestures out in front of her, to the beauty that Montana gives without even trying, “I couldn’t wake up every day and not have this.”

I don’t have to agree with her, she knows this is how I feel about our home. “So what’s the plan then?” I know what her plan is. Stay here. Work at the diner. Live with her mom and little brother in the trailer and every time I come home from school, I’ll pray that she’s finally seen her worth. There’s nothing wrong with working in the diner, but I know it’s not what she’s meant for or what would make her happy for the rest of her life. She needs something that would fill

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