Page 84 of I Don't Need Your Love

I pull my head away from her ear, give her a bright smile, then make my way to the bleachers to put my bottle away. But before I do that, I turn around. “Oh, I meant to ask you something.”

“Okay?”

I return to her, shoving my hands into my gym shorts. “You going to the party tonight?”

“Party?”

“At Ivy’s. The entire school is invited.”

“I didn’t get an invitation, so I doubt everyone is invited.”

My eyebrows furrow. “Oh. Did your friends?”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine. No one ever invites the scholarship kids anywhere.”

“You know, I’m a scholarship kid, too.”

She scoffs. “Maybe, but it’s different with you.”

“Why?”

She gapes at me. “Do I need to spell it out for you? Think about all the girls who chase after you every day.”

I frown. Why is she bringing them up? I don’t want to think about the other girls. I want to focus on her.

“So?” I ask.

“What?”

“Are you coming to the party?”

“I just told you I didn’t get an invite.”

“This is me inviting you. You and your friends and whoever else that wants to come.”

She twists her mouth. “I don’t know.”

I lean my elbow on the water cooler, careful not to put too much pressure on it and break it. “Let me guess…you’ve got plans.”

“Kinda.”

“Do they include figuring out our grand finale?”

“And tweaking the rest of the routine. And the team routine.”

I place my hands on her shoulders. “You gotta live a little, Cap’n. It’s not healthy for you to be cooped up in your room all night obsessing over the routine. You need to have fun.”

“This is fun.”

“Seems stressful.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “I want to do it.”

I hold up my hands. “All right. Just remember that the party won’t be the same without you there. I’ll text you the address in case you change your mind. We’d better get back to practice. Coach is waiting for us.”

She remains at the cooler for a bit before joining me in the center of the gym. We don’t try any lifts today—we focus on just getting the simple moves down. Coach says we’ll practice the complicated ones next week.

We hold hands and push away from each other, only to run to each other again. I spin her a few times as we make our way around the gym. Now’s not the right time to notice how soft and warm her hand is. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it until now. I actually like holding her hand, something I never thought I would like. I used to snort when Blake and those sappy couples at school and on TV held hands. Seemed silly. But it doesn’t seem silly now at all. I don’t want to let go of her hand, but of course I’ve got to. This is a dance, not a holding hands competition.