Play With Me (Playing For Keeps Book 2)

JENNIE

“The reservations are for seven.”

“And everyone’s coming?”

“Everyone. It’s gonna be amazing. I’ve got us on the list at Sapphire for afterward.”

“Sapphire? How did you make that happen?”

The tip of my pen taps incessantly against the desktop, and my eye twitches as I dream about shoving my turquoise-blue BIC right through Krissy’s eye socket.

Is it extreme? Maybe. Is it necessary? Also maybe.

Simon takes the weapon from my hand, replacing it with a Starburst. I can’t put a Starburst through Krissy’s eye. Plus, it’s a pink one. I’m not wasting that.

“Have some candy. You look like you’re plotting a murder.” He opens his laptop and fucks around on YouTube until he finds one of those funny dog videos he knows I like. He checks it’s muted and flips the screen to me before focusing his attention back on Leah at the front of the lecture hall.

I’m wound tight right now. Krissy’s sitting directly in front of me, talking loudly about their Friday plans, putting emphasis on the everyone who’s coming.

I’m not part of the everyone, and I definitely don’t care. It’s not like they’re going to the best, most exclusive dance club in Vancouver, and it’s not like I love to dance. It’s not like the entire graduating dance class is attending, and it’s not like I care that I’ve been sitting on the sidelines all these years.

I’ve been an outlier from the beginning, the rich girl who didn’t have to try to get accepted to one of the most elite dance schools in the nation, the scholarship that was handed to me.

Except I’m not rich, and I never have been. And that scholarship I rode in on? I earned every cent of it by busting my metaphorical balls for seventeen years, when all I ate, slept, and dreamt about was dance.

My fate was set the moment Carter Beckett’s little sister strolled in on the first day of orientation, and like I’d learned to do, I accepted it, choosing instead to sink back into the shadows, to be my own friend.

I’m tired, but now the fear of rejection is all too real for me to even try.

My friendship with Garrett has shown me the types of connections I’ve been missing all these years, and has sparked a deep craving for more. Coming to this place where I’m forced to hide inside myself is draining. I want the freedom I feel with Garrett, the one that lets me be unapologetically myself, and I want to experience it always, everywhere I go.

Is the connection we share the kind you find regularly? Is it the type of connection you create with all your friends? Or is this connection unique to him? To us? Is it fleeting and rare, the powerful kind that allows a deep and meaningful relationship to bloom? The kind you grab hold of and tell yourself, no matter what, don’t you dare let go?

My mind sees Garrett, and it clasps onto his face.

Things have been quieter with him, gentler. Like we’re both treading lightly, tiptoeing that line but careful not to cross it, afraid even.

It’s confusing, daunting, and maybe a bit frustrating. Does the line even exist anymore? I don’t know where it’s drawn, but I know what sits on the other side of it, and that makes things all the more frightening. Because where there’s something beautiful to be found, there’s something beautiful to be lost too.

When I thought Garrett had a date, a tsunami of feelings I’d been refusing to acknowledge rushed through me. Feelings that had been simmering on the back burner for weeks, growing stronger with every good morning text, every kiss hello, every night in on the couch, watching movies with mugs of hot chocolate, every quiet, mundane conversation in bed where his fingers drift up and down my spine before we eventually say good night.

The logical part of my brain examines each of Garrett’s actions, his words, every smile he graces me with, the way his gaze floats down my face before he presses his lips to mine. That part convinces me there’s something vibrating between us, something strong and tangible. So tangible I can feel it even when he’s not right next to me.

But then there’s that weak part of my brain, or rather, my heart. The pieces that have been shattered and bruised, those still-jagged edges, they remind me that sometimes not everything is as it seems. That some people are so good at convincing you they care, or worse, that they love you.

My judgment may be flawed, but every part of me knows Garrett’s not that person.

But that doesn’t mean he feels what I feel. I’ve been wrong before, and I don’t want to be wrong about Garrett. That feels a lot like losing him, and he’s not a loss I’m willing to risk.

“That’s it for today. Have a great weekend, everyone.”

Leah brings a welcome end to my spiraling thoughts, and chairs skid across the linoleum floors as everybody rushes out of the lecture hall.

Simon packs up his laptop while I wait for Krissy and A² to leave. Ashlee—Ashley number two—smiles at me, waving. She’s always been nice, quiet, and I don’t understand why she hangs around with this group. Maybe she’s as desperate as I am to fit in somewhere, anywhere.

Simon takes my hand, helping me to my feet. “Wanna be my date to Sapphire tomorrow night?”

“Thanks, but I’m not going.”

“What? Why?”

“You know exactly why.”

Simon sighs. “C’mon, Jennie. Come with me. We’ll have fun.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I wasn’t invited.” I’m never invited. “Sapphire sucks anyway.” It’s amazing, impossible to get into unless you have a rich connection, like, for example, a professional hockey player for a brother.

Going to a dance club with your overprotective older brother is not fun, by the way. Carter conned his friends into forming a barricade around us girls that made the Great Wall of China look like a white picket fence. I stomped off the dance floor two minutes later, and Carter made it up to me with a chocolate banana milk shake topped with crumbled Oreos on the way home.

“Krissy!” Simon calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Jennie can come tomorrow, can’t she?”

Her mouth quirks as she looks me over. “I didn’t know you liked to dance, Jennie.”

I bite my tongue to keep from calling her a giant twat, because I’m a fucking dance major, the same as she is. “You know, for fun,” she adds. “Of course you can come.”

Simon’s as oblivious to her attitude as he always is, or maybe he just doesn’t give two shits. He barely spares her the time of day anymore, and sometimes I think that’s what bothers Krissy most about me. I get the attention she wishes she had.

He pops a loud smooch on my cheek. “See? Told ya you could come.” He starts jogging away. “I’ll text you tomorrow before I pick you up.”

Krissy’s tight smile lingers on me. “I was just saying to the girls, I don’t know why you never come out for drinks with us.”

I’m about to remind her they’ve never once invited me, but Ashley number one beats me to a response.

“Jennie doesn’t drink.”

“What? You don’t?”

I shake my head.

Krissy’s nose wrinkles. “Ew. Why?”

My chin juts, because her tone is pissing me off. “I don’t need alcohol to have or be fun.” While true, it’s not my reason. But I don’t need to explain myself to anyone.

She shrugs. “Guess we’ll see you on Monday then,” she tosses over her shoulder as the three of them walk away, leaving me standing here, wondering why being sober means I’ve suddenly been uninvited.

Krissy pauses, and I hate how my body buzzes, eager, hopeful for inclusion, when she calls my name.

“Yeah?” My grip tightens around the strap of my bag, waiting.

“We heard you’ve been recommended for the job in Toronto. I won’t be at all surprised if you get it.”

My face beams with pride, tension in my chest easing, shoulders dropping. “Thank you. I’m really excited about the opportunity.”

“Apparently talent isn’t their priority this round, which is why I’m not going to bother applying. I heard they’re looking for someone willing to follow blindly like a sheep. It makes sense Leah thought of her favorite student. They know you won’t stir any dirt up there. You’re so…” Her gaze drifts down, then back up. “Vanilla.”

I open my mouth to tell her to go fucking fuck herself, but instead, my chin trembles. My teeth quickly descend, biting into my lip, trying to still the quiver before she can derive any pleasure from seeing it, from knowing she’s succeeded in hurting me.

I don’t know what I’ve done to make her dislike me so strongly over the years, not when I’ve worked so hard to stay in my own lane.

But staying in my own lane doesn’t make me vanilla. Following the rules because I see no need to break them doesn’t make me boring.

Does it?

“I’m a good dancer, and I’ve worked my ass off,” finally leaves my mouth. “I always work my ass off.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I deserve to be considered.”

Krissy gives me a condescending pat on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. There’s nothing wrong with being predictable.”

“It’s called being reliable.”

“And it certainly doesn’t hurt that your brother is Carter Beckett. I’m sure that plays into this. Think of the extra publicity, the donations…They have so much to gain by having his little sister teach there.”

My fists clench, nails biting into my palms. “My brother has nothing to do with this.”

Krissy gestures for her friends to follow her. “Anyway, Jennie. We’ll see you on Monday.”

Ashlee lingers, giving me a small wave paired with a sympathetic smile. “Have a good weekend, Jennie.”

I watch their retreating forms, demanding my brain to drop it, to not let it get to me. But then the sound of heels clicking in the hallway echoes in my ears, matching the pounding of my pulse, and my throat feels thick and tight when I try to swallow.

“Jennie! There you are. How’s my favorite student? I wanted to ask you how you’re feeling about the job, with graduation getting closer.”

My eyes shift, barely meeting Leah’s. The lines in her face soften, her brown eyes full of compassion as she steps into me, clasping my elbow.

“Hey, are you okay? Wanna go grab a bite?”

Is this what Krissy was talking about? Aside from Simon, my teacher is my only friend at school, the only other person who invites me to sit with her in the cafeteria, who just fucking…talks to me.

No, I tell myself, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head. Don’t let her make you doubt yourself. Don’t fucking let her, Jennie.

“Jennie,” Leah urges softly. “What’s going on? Let’s grab a coffee and sit down.”

“I…” I feel like an idiot. I feel alone. I feel so…vanilla. I don’t fit in with the rest of them, and while I’ve always known that, today it feels heavier and darker than it ever has. Is there anything special about me?

“I have to go,” I finally mumble, peeling Leah’s hand off.

She calls after me, but I’m already out the door, stepping into the blustery afternoon. The damp wind slaps at my cheeks, making my skin sting. It was mild this morning, rainy, but the temperatures have taken a sharp dive and the rain has turned to snow. It’s that thick, heavy kind, sleet that makes every step an icy hazard as it coats the ground.

I slip twice on my way to the car, barely catching myself before I faceplant. I whip the door open and shove my coat and bag in the backseat before climbing in. The snow falls heavier the longer I sit here, gripping the steering wheel, telling myself these people aren’t worth my tears, but that doesn’t stop them from prickling my eyes. By the time I’m creeping out of the parking lot, the blowing snow and my flooded vision make it nearly impossible to see.

My heart slams against my rib cage and my pulse thunders in my ears as I approach a four-way stop sign, and when I tap on the brake, the car skids forward.

And forward.

The car going through the intersection blares its horn.

Every muscle in my body tenses and my knuckles turn white as I grind down on the brake as hard as I can and swing the wheel. My tears finally spill at the crunching of metal.