“So quit. You don’t need them.”
“It’s not them that I need. It’s the dancing,” she said. Mom always talked about how much she loved watching her dance. Summer loved it not only because she loved dancing and the rush of a performance, but also because she and Mom had done it together. “Dancing. It…my mom…It’s hard to explain.” A giant lump formed in her throat. “I feel closer to her when I dance.”
Troy slowed and put his hand on her arm, just above her elbow. “Then you dance, Sunshine.” He shot her a giant grin. “Dance your ass off.”
Usually, she’d laugh at that—at least smile—but she didn’t know if she had it in her today. A big part of her wanted to give up. But those months she hadn’t danced were her darkest, and she never wanted to feel like that again. Maybe she could take other classes at a studio or something. But Mom wouldn’t be there, sitting with the other moms. She wouldn’t be beside Summer either, struggling to learn the steps with her. Besides, Summer had worked hard on the routine so the team could compete at the State Competition. She’d made up sections of the choreography. It was her senior year, and her last chance to be part of something like that. She didn’t want to walk away now.
“Come on. I know what’ll cheer you up.” Troy pulled her over to his Jeep and opened the passenger door. “Hop in.”
Troy opened the door to Louie’s Pizza and ushered Summer inside. It used to be one of their regular stops before going to Equinox. Louie’s was the only place that could compare to the pizza in Chicago. After ordering a few giant slices of pepperoni and a couple of drinks, they settled into a corner table.
“You never told me your mom was a dancer like you,” Troy said.
“She was an amazing dancer. I remember her blasting music and declaring it Dance Party Time. She even forced Dad to join in.” Summer smiled, thinking about their dance parties that sometimes included jumping off and on the furniture. “As soon as I could walk, she put me in classes. I did jazz, tap, hip-hop, a little Irish dancing, and even ballet.”
Troy’s eyebrows shot up. “Ballet? I never would’ve pegged you for a ballerina.”
“My ballerina stint was brief.” Since she’d seen her first vision of death after her ballet solo, she’d never put on her toe shoes again, as if ballet had anything to do with her vision. She shook off that thought and forced herself to move on. “But since my first class, I’ve always been involved in dance in some way. It became such a big part of how I defined myself.”
Summer opened her mouth, poised to take a bite of pizza, when she realized something. “I guess that’s why I settled into things with Kendall and her crowd. It went along with dance. I’m afraid I got sucked in and turned a little shallow myself. Really, I just haven’t been the same since my mom left.”
“She didn’t leave, Summer,” Troy said. “Not on purpose.”
Her chest tightened and tears crawled up her throat. She did, though. I asked her not to go, but she went anyway.
“My dad…” Troy picked up his soda, and pointed the straw toward her. “Now, that’s a loser that left on purpose.”
The night she’d told him about how Mom had died and how much she missed her, he’d told her about his dad. Troy was thirteen when his dad informed him he’d have to be the man of the house. Then his dad left, all so he could pursue his dream of becoming a musician. He never wrote, called, sent money—never did any of those things dads were supposed to do. Troy and his mom never heard from him again.
Summer thought of her own father and how lost she’d be without him. Which is why certain things are better left unsaid.
Troy sighed. “This conversation went downhill quickly. I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of cheering you up.
“I can feel it. Things are starting to change. And I don’t think it’ll be for the better.” She might be able to handle all the crap at school if she could just make better progress with Ashlyn and her mom. If she didn’t feel like she was failing at everything.
“Come on,” Troy said a few minutes later. “I’m not done trying to cheer you up yet.” They walked back down the sidewalk the way they’d come, toward Troy’s Jeep. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds, the temperature dropping without its warmth. Summer slipped on her hoodie, glad she’d brought it. The streetlights lit up downtown, and she scooted closer to Troy as they approached his Jeep.
He reached into the back and took out two skateboards. He placed one on the ground in front of her. “Hop on. Unless all your months away have ruined your skills.”
“What skills? I never had any skills to start with.” She put a tentative foot on the board and slowly pushed off.
Troy eased ahead of her, and she followed. He went slow for her—she knew because she’d seen how fast he usually rode. They rolled down the sidewalks, weaving in and out of people, until they reached the park.
A few familiar figures greeted them as they neared the fountain.
“I heard you’re having a bad day,” Ashlyn said, shooting Summer a sympathetic smile. “Troy texted me and told me to get the gang together. Said you might need a pick-me-up.”
Nelson raised his digital camcorder. “I’m ready.”
Troy kicked up his skateboard and caught it. “This is how I first met these guys, by the way. Nelson makes movies to put up on YouTube, and he wanted to get a few skate stunts filmed. He saw me riding outside of school one day and asked if I’d be interested. Ashlyn rides, too. So Nelson films, and Aaron and Darren help with calculations.” He gave the twins a charming nod/grin combo. “Although human error often skews the results, right guys?”
Darren raised a finger. “Yes, our calculations are not at fault. Math never fails. But it’s like that saying of too many cooks spoiling the broth. If you add too many variables, even a computer won’t be able to compute the infinite possibilities.”
“Wow, good to know,” Summer said, though she had no idea what it was supposed to mean. She glanced from face to face, noticing one was missing. “Where’s Marcie?”
“Marcie only hangs with us at lunch,” Ashlyn said. “Her parents don’t let her go out much. She’s got like eight brothers and sisters, so it’s school, and then home to help take care of all her siblings. It’s one of the few times I actually feel glad to have the mom I do.”
Summer felt like she should say something, like maybe make a positive statement about Pamela. Nothing came to mind, though, and she wanted to forget about her troubles, not think about her job.
Ashlyn hopped on her board. “I say we try by the fountain until someone yells at us.”
Summer pushed off, rolling after Ashlyn and Troy. When she picked up speed, she teetered, barely catching herself from falling. Dang, I’m rusty.
She, Troy, and Ashlyn skated around the center of the park. Summer’s trick was to stay on, while Ashlyn and Troy did real, far cooler tricks, like kick-flips and rail slides. Nelson had his video camera up, filming them as they rode.
“I’m going to go do another rail slide,” Ashlyn said, skating toward the set of stairs.
Summer wobbled and worked to steady herself. “I’ll just be here in the flat part, trying not to hurt myself.” She skated after Troy as he made another circle around the fountain.
They were going down a slight incline, when Troy unexpectedly stopped in front of Summer. “Hey, we should—”
“Watch—” Summer barreled into Troy, unable to stop in time or finish her warning. They went down hard, landing in a tangled heap on the unforgiving cement. Her breath was still somewhere in the air above her, and she heard her skateboard still rolling on without her. “Ouch.”