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He takes my hint easily. “Sounds like a big deal. Who’s your sponsor?”

“Professor Orion Knight.” I roll my eyes at the name. He looks just like an Orion Knight. It’s sickening.

Dad makes a face and doesn’t meet my gaze for a full minute.

“What? What’s that face for?” It reads as disapproval.Because I have some kind of context you don’t. I hate that face.

I sigh when he shakes his head.

“I really can’t say.”

“You tell me everything, Dad. I mean, you overshare to the point of TMI to the millionth degree. Are you telling me you can’t ethically tell me something you know about my faculty sponsor?”

The dread that I’d been right about the guy sinks in a little.

“Sorry, honey.”

I nod and let him drag me back to the couch with Noah.

Dinner spreads across the coffee table, and I have to give them quick kisses goodbye to get to my last class on time.

My stomach twists on itself as my half-formed thoughts flood back in. How bad does it have to be for my dad not to tell me?

8

SOFIA

Tonight, I’m going on my first scheduled excursion for my project. I’m trying something new, and it’s made me super nervous and jittery, especially since I’ll be setting up for the class.

The teacher, Monroe—yes, she’s blonde, yes, she has a mole by her mouth, no, she doesn’t have that patented breathy voice—agreed to let me set up in the corner to crop everyone else out. I totally took that deal.

But also, when I strip down in the locker room, exposing all of the skin necessary for this has me working through some deep breaths before I walk out to the small studio and set up shop.

The pole isn’t as high as I imagined it would be. Not that I think I can hoist myself up to the top of this one.

Some of the other students give me longer glances, and I offer them smiles and small waves.

One of them saddles up the pole next to mine. Her dark hair is stunningly glossy, pulled back into a long ponytail that reaches her waist. “Influencer?”

I snort a soft laugh. “No. Senior thesis project. I’m a film student.”

She gives me an impressed look. “And pole dancing is a part of it?”

I tip my head from side to side. “It’s more about pushing outside of my comfort zone. Trying things that I’m pretty sure I’m going to be bad at but have always thought about. I mean if not now, when?”

That gets a brilliant smile flashed my way. My neighbor reaches forward to shake my hand. “Jordan.”

I give her hand a firm pump. “Sofia.”

“Well, Sofia, I like your style.”

One of my favorite compliments. I try not to preen. “Thank you. Are you a regular?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been doing this for about seven months now? Since my ex very publicly broke up with me in one of the most embarrassing ways.” Her gaze flicks to the ceiling and sends me theit’s mortifying and a long storylook. “My sister suggested that I find an outlet. I tried this out, and voila. I had the first step to rebuilding my confidence.”

Okay, Jordan is absolutely a new ally for me. My trepidation at making a fool of myself fades. Monroe gets our attention at the front of the studio mirror. “Alright, Ladies. Let’s warm ourselves up.”

She leads us through long movements, bending and twisting us, waking up muscles I’m not so used to using. I get warm fast, already sweating slightly before I put my hand on the pole.