Page 23 of His Dancer

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She shuffles on her feet but doesn’t move to allow me through. I wait, expectantly.

“My brother’s in the hospital,” she tells me. I frown. “He’ll live, thankfully, but it’s going to be a while before he gets released. The doctors said he’s lucky to be alive.”

I wait a moment and then nod with a stilted movement. “Good, I’m glad.” The words leave my lips, but I don’t really feel them. Am I glad that he’s alive? No? Yes? I don’t know if I care anymore. Leanna was the one I was worried about, and I guess, when it comes down to it, I’m happy she’s not going to lose someone she obviously cares about even if maybe he’s not a good person. After all, he did sell her to get rid of his debt.

She shrugs. “It’s okay. I’m just glad he’s not dead. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost him.” Her response is more proof as to why I shouldn’t be missing Ace. He’s the reason someone is in the hospital, and I have no more illusions about him. Had he truly wanted, Leanna’s brother wouldn’t be in the hospital—he’d be dead.

I shake my head against the unwanted Ace thoughts. He doesn’t deserve a spot in my mind or heart, but I can’t help myself, which makes me feel ten times worse.

“Well, I’m glad he’s okay… I’ll see you around.” I inch toward the door.

“It was nice seeing you again, Cara.” She smiles and continues her walk inside. At least she still has a job, unlike me. Worry festers in my gut. Without a job, I’ll have to figure out how I will pay for books and tuition for the next semester.

For the entire walk back to campus, I’m riddled with worry. The thought of dropping out makes me sick, but if I can’t pay to go to school, then I don’t have any other option. It’s not like they’ll let me stay here. I kick at the pavement and nearly trip over my feet.

It doesn’t hit me until I’ve reached the dorm and I’m crawling back under the bedsheets to cry myself to sleep that I remember I put some money into a savings account a while ago.

I toss my covers back and grab my phone off the nightstand. It takes forever for the screen to load as I log into my bank account. My heart does a little somersault when I see the balance. Relief floods me. It’s enough to cover the expense of my books, but if I spend it, I won’t be eating for … who knows how long. Until I get another job maybe?

The relief curbs and disperses. Instead, the fear and anxiety of the day presses down on me, and I toss my phone back onto the nightstand and fall back onto the bed.

I can’t do this tonight. Can’t choose between food and school. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day, or maybe it won’t. I close my eyes and pretend my life is normal, like I have no worries at all, and eventually, either from pure exhaustion or just sadness, I fall asleep.

* * *

When I wakeup the next morning, there's a moment of panic that I'm late for my job until I remember … I don't have one anymore. With a groan, I slap my phone back down on my nightstand and roll over, reaching down and tugging up the covers over my head.

No job equals no money. I have no time to be thinking about Ace or the recent events that have happened to me. I contemplate my next move all morning. I browse the local listings from my cell and even save a few nearby jobs I hope to contact. Why do employers never want to list the actual wages?

Finally, the sun rises into the sky, and the clock ticks past noon. It's time to stop fucking around. I sit up and clamber out of bed, moving across the room as I shed my pajamas. I quickly grab what I need for a shower and head out into the hall. When I return, I drop the caddy down to the bottom of my closet and get dressed for the day.

The first thing I need to do is see how bad the damage is. I stand in my dorm room, facing the window with my phone clutched in my hands. To do that, I need to call the bookstore. If worst comes to worst...maybe I can get used books? A payment plan? I wonder if they do those. I resolve to ask as I type in the number and put the cell to my ear.

The phone rings three times, and my grip on it tightens while I wait.

“Hello, North Woods University bookstore.”

“H-Hi," I stutter out. "Um, can you please tell me the total charge for my books for next semester?”

“Sure. I’ll just need your full name and student ID number.”

I rattle off my information to the man on the phone and wait with bated breath. A few seconds later, he says, “It looks like your book expenses were paid in full for the next two semesters.”

A record scratches in my head. "I'm sorry...what?"

"Your book expenses have been covered for the next year," he says, rephrasing the words as if he's sure I couldn't understand it the way he said it the first time. It's not that I couldn't understand, it's that … I don't … it's just … how?

My lips part, and I try to think of what to say, but all I can say is, "Paid? In full?” I try not to sound as shocked as I feel. "Are you sure?" Maybe he typed in the student ID number wrong, so I rattle it off again. “That’s my student number. Are you sure that’s the one you’re seeing on your screen? The one with the”—dare I say it—"paid expenses?”

He chuckles. “Yes, that is the correct number,” he answers. “Is there anything else you wanted, ma'am?” I shake my head, only to realize he can’t see me.

“Uh, no, no, thank you.” I hang up the phone. The worry that I'd been feeling earlier is now a distant memory. Instead, it's edging away in the light of new emotions. There's really only one explanation.

Ace.It has to have been him.

My eyes jump across the room to my computer. I have to find out if he's done anything else. I practically leap across the space to where my laptop sits at the end of my twin-sized mattress. I quickly log in to my tuition account to check the monthly statement, tapping my fingers against the side of the computer as it takes several minutes to load. Stupid cheap Wi-Fi.

Once the screen fully loads, my eyes bulge and my mouth drops open once more. It's paid. All of it, the entire year. All those zeroes I'd been worried about before have narrowed to one. One single zero—as in, there's nothing left of this semester or next to pay for.


Tags: Darcy Rose Erotic