Page 9 of The Breaking Pointe

take my breath away

NOELLE

The thought of dating again after Daniel is a major fear factor for me.

I’m humbled by him in ways I don’t like to explain because it’s embarrassing to own up to how weak he made me feel.

He’s the reason I’m in domestic violence meetings.

Meetings that I’m still scared to go to, even though Colton doesn’t seem like he’s relatively close to being evil—but neither did Daniel when we first met.

They always know how to start out sweet, and at the perfect time it all becomes sour.

By that time, it’s too late.

Going on a date only lets him know he might be closer to having a chance to show me how sour he truly can be.

I had enough of it with Danny, and he won.

My will to trust has left the building.

If I keep depriving myself of male attention, though, I might shrivel up.

I’m not pressing to open my legs for anyone, but being wined and dined doesn’t sound so bad.

If it’s anything like Daniel’s style, we’ll be at some exquisite restaurant or party where he’ll simply show me off.

Not much conversation, and maybe he’ll want a kiss or two.

I won’t be thrilled, but I can say that I went on a date and didn’t reject another man out of fear.

And Lauren won’t feel obligated to give me another one of her lectures about missing out.

Thank God.

Walking in the front door of my apartment, straight away, I see Lauren standing at the stove, mixing something in a pan as she watches a show on her laptop.

“Hi, I’m finally back. Train was slow—again,”

I say, slipping past her as we bump cheeks and side hug each other briefly.

I set all of my bags on the counter, finally taking one deep breath as I lean against it.

“You didn’t miss tofu stir fry, so you’re right on time.”

She faces me now, pushing her hair out of her face.

I smile brightly, bouncing my shoulders a bit, causing her facial expression to become concerned.

“Someone’s abnormally happy.”

She starts to smile as if she isn’t sure it’s appropriate.

“No—me?”

I question her as I fumble with my necklace, turning around to face the grocery bags I set down”

A normal amount of happy.”

“Nu-uh, you’re all rosy, and you have a glow.”

She turns me around again, smiling like she means it this time.

“I’m feeling positive.”

I press my lips together nervously.

She rubs my arm and returns to stirring the food before taking another look at me.

“Good news about the girls, or the studio or something—oh! Did you get a show offer?”

she exclaims, rushing into various ideas.

“Nothing about the girls.”

I hum my laughter, listening to her.

“Parents coming to New York?”

she asks, raising her eye- brows.

“It’s not that, either. I wish that was it.”

I shake my head, taking a few cans and putting them away”

It’s not a big deal, Lauren. I’m just smiley,” I insist.

“Welp, that just means that it is. So, c’mon. Fess up.”

She stops her stirring and twirls the spoon like a wand.

I can feel my face starting to burn. She knows me as if we’ve been friends for a decade, and she can catch onto me like it’s nothing. I bet I’m as red as a tomato by now, just thinking about Colton. How soft of me to be so warped by this stupid date”

Don’t tell me it’s Danny,”

she says with a displeased tone.

My head whips around to give her a glare.

“No. Absolutely not.”

I turn around again to remove things from more bags.

She giggles, poking at my waist”

Is it pretty boy, Colton Kennedy? And he wants to take you out? And spoil you and bat his pretty, brown eyes at you?”

she sings to me in a silly voice, tickling me now.

Unable to contain my laughter, I jump away from her and fix my hair, not giving her the answer. Only she would be able to make a joke that accurate.

Her giggles cut out like a power surge, and she pauses, stand- ing beside me.

“I was joking…is it seriously because of him?”

I turn to her, briefly closing my eyes”

Must you make a big deal out of this?”

I smile politely.

She nods quickly”

Yes! If it’s making you red and cheeky, then yes!”

she squeals”

Just a little bit of detail, I have to know— please, please, please?” she begs.

I continue to put things away”

Fine. I saw him at the store.

He was nice to me. Same as the other night.”

“Nice to you? That’s all?”

She lets out a short laugh.

“We’re going on a date tomorrow,”

I say as quickly as possible, hoping she’ll miss it.

“Pardon me? You sneaky witch, that is such a big deal.”

She laughs more.

At last, she engulfs herself back into the pan of food, turning the heat off underneath it.

“Y’know, Lauren, I doubt it will amount to anything, alright? Don’t get excited,”

I say, trying to ease my mind more than hers”

Sorry, but I’m afraid it’s too late. I hate Daniel. Any man who tries to take you away from his grasp is a man I will heavily

consider approving,”

she says without a care.

She’d do anything to get rid of Daniel completely.

I bet Tony would, too.

Who can blame them? I clearly wanted the same damn thing myself.

Now, I’m learning to live with his stalking antics.

Eventually, Lauren finishes violently stirring the food in the pan and we both do our usual: eat together, watch an episode of something relatively interesting, and then we both migrate to our bedrooms for the evening.

I typically reserve this time to stretch and lie down in silence so that my aching toes and legs can become as relaxed as possible.

That’s still on the list of things to do but talking to my mother is also on the list.

I try to talk to both of my parents at least once a week, and today was Mama’s day.

I value each call like our lives depend on it, ever since I moved away from Chicago and into New York.

I love living in Chelsea—it’s made my dreams come true in numerous ways.

Yet, sometimes, there’s nothing more in this world I want than for my parents to be here with me.

They can’t exactly afford such a trip as often as they’d like, and it doesn’t help that I can’t, either.

They take one trip a year, and so do I, if I can take one at all.

Ever since I got the dance studio, it’s made it even harder to fit into my budget.

So, the phone calls will simply have to do.

“If I come for Christmas, I won’t be able to afford the studio payment. Not unless I ask for another extension, and I’m pretty sure that would be my fourth time doing that, Mom. I’ll have it figured out, but…it stresses me out,”

I confess to my mom as I sit on my bed, pressing my fingers against the tops of my feet, applying pressure.

“Elle, don’t worry. What if you let us help you? Can we?”

she asks, hesitation in her words.

Mine slip out like butter, running into hers.

“No. No help. I’m a big girl, remember? You and Dad have enough to figure out. I promise I can figure it out myself,”

I assure her, not believing myself in the slightest.

I can hear her taking a deep sigh on the other end, sounding dissatisfied with my argument.

“Just tell me something, hon,” she says”

Anything.”

I furrow my brows, as if she can see.

“Is Daniel coming this time?”

She softens her voice now”

Mom, no,”

I begin, collecting myself before getting un-

reasonably offended”

We aren’t together anymore. I’m way beyond that now. I thought we talked about this…”

It’s embarrassing that she even has to ask me that. That man successfully has made my parents think that I’m never going to beat the accusations of being his little shadow. Fucking great.

“I’m sorry, Elle, I’m only asking as a concerned mom. You seemed to really be hellbent on him for a long time. You remember the last time he came around,”

she says shyly.

“I promise. You guys don’t have to think I’m that stripped of my own abilities that I have to keep him around. I am never going back. Not after what he did,”

I say, my voice cowering.

“I know, baby,”

she responds, followed by short silence”

You’re stronger than you know—and too beautiful to be alone. Someone’s going to see it the way your dad and I do. You’re our special gift for a reason.”

“Mom, stop.”

I start to giggle”

Now you’re just being cringe.”

“I don’t care how cringe you think I am. Whoever left you on

our doorstep gave us the best gift that the world could offer.”

She laughs.

I stare at my comforter for a couple of seconds, weighing if I should let her in on my little date secret.

I’m genuinely curious what she’d think.

She always says she’d like to see me with a better man, but the day it really happens is the day her motherly instincts might change that opinion, and telling my dad is signing up for a field day of bitching.

He’d probably ask me a million and one questions and then stress-watch football until my mom makes him take a Melatonin to force him to give up the grudge on a man he doesn’t even know.

I’m almost positive his hatred for Daniel will be appointed to whichever man decides to try to involve themselves with me next.

His faith in my choice of men isn’t strong at all anymore, which is painful to tell myself.

He might not say it, but it’s quite evident that he would rather I stay away from all athletes for the rest of my life.

“Are you okay? You’re quiet all of a sudden.

Did you hang up?”

my mom asks, disrupting my thought process.

“Yeah, I’m great, actually,”

I answer her speedily”

I’m just thinking…well I wanted to tell you something,”

I say into the phone, straightening out my legs as I focus on her tone.

“Okay…”

She elongates her enunciation.

“I have a date in the morning, and I don’t know if I should be worried—please don’t be mad at me,”

I say as fast as possible, biting at the gel paint on my nails directly after.

“Now what about that would make me mad?”

she asks with a breathless laugh.

“He may or may not be another boxer.”

I bite harder, revealing more.

“Noelle…”

she says, preparing me for a boat load of dialect”

Mom, you were the one who said I needed to let loose. Well

now I am, but I need you to have my back just this once, okay? I think he’s gonna be different. I hope.”

I exhale my last words”

You have a type, and it’s obvious that I can’t do much about

it. I worry about the patterns that come with it,” she says.

“I swear, it’s a coincidence. A very specific, and odd one, but none of it was planned,” I stress.

“Noelle, I believe you. Call me after?”

Her voice puddles into the sweet, motherly tone that I love.

“I promise. I love you. Kiss Daddy on the cheek for me,”

I say, laying back on my pillows.

“Promise you that I will. Bye, hon,”

she says before drawing the line silent as she ends the call.

I’m ruling out all the negativity, because that’s not what I believe in.

I know that I’m worth enough to make somebody in this world find me and make me their soulmate.

I know when that day comes, I won’t expect it.

I might not even think that I’m ready, but it won’t matter because they’ll make me feel ready with a simple look. I want to feel that in sync with someone.

The same way my parents have been for almost forty years.

Adopting me was the last key to their hopes and dreams.

I want to care about something with someone as passionately as they do with me. Someone with goals and needs to fulfill. Maybe one day I can be one of someone’s needs.

* * *

Standing in the mirror, I press the small plastic tube against my lips, applying my favorite plum-colored tint to them, smacking them together to spread the color.

He said to dress casual so I picked what I thought would still be enough to catch his eye without making myself look like too much of a try-hard.

Jean skirt.

Brown stockings.

Red striped, fluffy sweater, and the chunkiest of my Dr. Martens.

I keep getting that feeling of fear as if he’s never seen me before today.

Contrarily, it’s been crossing my mind that seeing each other this many times must mean something.

I mean, in what world do you see a person in threes like that? First the match, which I guess was inevitable, but the club and the grocery store? I’m wondering if I slowly am going crazy, or if I might’ve hallucinated the entire thing.

At first, the defensive girl in me wanted to scold him to a point of no return.

My first instinct is always to make a man as intimidated as I possibly can.

The other night, I thought I would never see him again, so what harm would a dance do? When he started smiling and wooing me, it was as if it were his job and he had a deadline to meet.

The worst part is that it worked.

I couldn’t say no to him with the unwarranted kindness and unapologetic flirting.

Not only that, but I would be telling the fattest lie if I said I hadn’t thought about him. I did see his text, and I did ignore it—but I did it with the idea that we wouldn’t run into each other that easily.

I hate the thought of me being so available.

The sky is already cloudy, which lets me know I might get lucky.

Rain is good luck in my family.

A special kind of Chicago luck that I depend on a lot, actually.

Every time it rains, I receive good news, one of my peers does, or something even better.

It’s also the kind of weather that I was found in, covered in a little basket on my parents’ porch when I was a baby.

It sometimes feels like the world is trying to tell me something when it storms.

A part of me is hoping that it does today.

I’m beginning to lean more into the idea that Colton might just be trying to be the good guy.

I might not have ever heard of him, but that very well could be a good thing.

People know me for being Danny’s girl, and even the tabloids have made it clear that that’s all I’m good for.

Someone who lives life with more privacy could be refreshing.

Everything is almost like a secret to the world. I don’t want to be on display anymore, except for one person, and one person only.

Whoever that ends up being.

I started getting ready earlier than I planned, after Lauren’s little furry baby burst into my bedroom, screaming for attention since she had left for work already.

He then proceeded to follow me all around the house until now, curious about every little action I make.

There aren’t many actions to make, though, seeing as I’ve been dressed and waiting for the past thirty to forty minutes.

I’m asking for a lot to expect him to show up on time.

“It’s nine fifty-eight, Chucky,”

I say, walking into the living room to sit beside him in the bay window, giving him a firm pet against his little head”

Just like Daniel. Late. Ten o’clock my ass.”

I sigh through my nostrils, flaring them as I glance out the window. I watch as a pristine, black car eases into a spot that’s directly in the path of my staircase.

With the windows tinted, it’s impossible to see who it is—but who cares when the car is that pretty?

I watch as the car shuts off, peering into the window harder as if it will allow me to get a better look.

The door slowly opens on the driver’s side, revealing a man with a heavily chiseled face full of thick, neatly shaped and trimmed facial hair.

His hair is equally as neat—curly and molded in waves against his head, with one smaller curl left to dangle like he’s some kind of Clark Kent.

He’s doing a great job at pulling it off, too.

It’s definitely him.

His stature is just as strong willed as it was the other night.

His body follows, standing him straight up, shoulders broad, and the door closes behind him.

However tall he is, it’s taller than Daniel.

His arms might be just as large, maybe larger.

Plastered on his face is this determined look as he marches toward my front door.

I stand from my seat, practically throwing myself behind the wall beside the window, hiding the fact that I’ve been waiting and clocking every moment since he got here.

It’s like I can feel him getting closer, and now that he’s here, I don’t know if I’m ready at all.

I’m the most unprepared I have ever been, and someone needs to tell him I changed my mind as soon as possible.

The doorbell goes off, indicating that I’m out of time to find any reason to back out.

Chucky stares out the window, then averts his gaze to me, as if to say I’ve been busted.

Licking his little paw, he observes me as I take exactly ten seconds to answer the door while I vigorously toss strands of my hair into the correct places and adjust my skirt until it’s as perfect as I can get it to be.

I’m even second-guessing my outfit now, wondering if I went overboard.

My boots thump on the wooden floor, my hands swiping up my small bag as I approach the door, unlock it, and let out a deep breath before I open it completely to find him smack dab in front of me.

He looks cuter each time we meet, I think.

He could stand here in all his glory all day if he wanted, and I wouldn’t mind watching.

But I refuse to tell him that.

Also, I don’t think I even paid attention to how tall he was before.

He’s alarmingly enormous—well over six foot and abnormally large, but somehow in the most natural way possible.

Unlike you know who.

His lips curl into a smile big enough to show just how white and perfect his teeth really are, and I catch a diamond placed on one of his top teeth.

It’s so shiny, it’s glistening.

“Oh good. I almost thought I had the wrong house.”

He chuckles, rattling me with the depth of it.

“No. Right one,”

I utter as my eyes drop from his face, down to his feet.

We both chose sweaters, except his has a V-neck that almost lets me see the hairs that I know are on his chest from watching the fight.

We are also both in denim, his jeans complementing my skirt.

Like he knew exactly what I would pick—like he’s some psychic entity”

I love that color on you. Matches your hair almost perfectly,”

he says, putting each of his hands in his pockets, one by one, never letting his eyes move from my face. Looking down at my top, as if I’d forgotten what I chose to put on, I respond, “Oh yeah. I guess it kind of does.”

I can’t help but smile, looking at him again”

I thought I went a little overboard with it, but it’s one of my favorites, since I—”

I chime into my innocence, quickly realizing that I’m rambling”

Sorry. You probably don’t care about that.”

I smile nervously, hoping

I don’t get flushed in the face.

“Why would you think that?”

He furrows his eyebrows before continuing”

What if I did want to hear the story about how your favorite sweater came to be?”

“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, do you?”

I squint at him, stepping down from the top step, closing the door behind me.

Now I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth me being this sus- picious and mean. He’s like a puppy, and I sound like a snarky bitch. Fuck my life.

He smiles again, relaxing his features”

Only when it’s called for. And that’s hardly ever.”

He chuckles.

Pulling back from my attitude, I tuck some strands of hair behind my ears and look at his car.

“Is that yours? Like, you own it?”

I ask, wondering what his answer is going to be. Rental? Borrowing? I hope neither.

“Uh…it is.”

He looks at it before returning his gaze to me”

Oh,”

I say, feeling instant regret.

“Not a good answer?”

he asks, raising a hand to the back of his neck, double-taking at the car once more.

Not a good answer? I don’t even have a car. Please.

“No, no—it’s an amazing answer,”

I say, locking my fingers together in front of me”

It’s very nice,”

I add, nearly whispering as I think of how idiotic I must sound.

“Nice,”

he parrots. He puffs out some air through his nose, amused as he waves his eyes over my entire body once more”

Ready?”

he asks, placing his hand on the small of my back as he leads us to the lot.

I follow suit, walking down the front stairs, gulping the nonexistent saliva I so desperately need.

My nervous system is on the verge of eruption, and I can confidently say I haven’t felt like this in a long time.

It’s almost scarier than going out with him at all.

I’m still grasping the fact that I even said yes in the first place.

Watching his arm reach in front of me, the passenger door is swung open, just in time for me to approach it.

I get in the car, taking an in-depth look at all the leather interior detail before I sit in the seat.

Seconds later, Colton gets in the driver’s seat and starts up the car, taking us off into the city.

For once, I’m riding with a man who has a sense of style, not only in cars, but clothing. He’s already behaving more like a man than the idiot who came before him.

I can tell he wants to speak the entire drive.

I don’t know what made him go mute, but while I’m trying to get rid of my nerves, his are building up.

His lips open to say something—so I think— only for them to close again.

Over and over. That, paired with a look of grievance every time he was caught staring at me. I can’t tell if it’s good or bad, so I’m settling on it being good, for my feelings’ sake.

Horribly distracted by his inability to speak, I haven’t paid attention to where we’re heading at all.

He parks us in a lot, before leading us on a train to take us to a…museum? Nothing could have led me to predict that he would bring me to a fucking museum.

I don’t mean it harshly, but if I had a list of what I thought this man wanted to do with me, it wouldn’t be looking at paintings.

Although I do find it to be exciting.

I haven’t been to one in years due to being submerged in work all this time.

I often forget I can go do just about anything in New York, at any time.

Things that have nothing to do with following an angry man- child around who blames his tantrums on you.

If peace means museum dates and silence, then it’s a trade-off I’ll gladly take.

Colton doesn’t miss anything and always thanks the staff.

Even when they don’t do anything.

We haven’t even put a dent in the map we’re following, and so far he has had a compliment for nearly every person who holds a door for us, gives us a flier, or provides basic, simple directions.

He also knows a crazy amount of random knowledge about art that I was in no way prepared for.

Almost like he’s been here a million times over.

I wouldn’t judge him if he has, but it’s an abnormal amount of knowledge to have when your focal point in your career is supposedly boxing. It’s sort of sexy, though, knowing he’s got brains.

As we continue strolling through each exhibit, I become more and more comfortable.

Like he’s letting me know that this is a safe space without needing to verbalize it.

“Oh, look, these are gemstones. They are different from crystals, but they have meanings, too,”

I say, pointing to a giant glass exhibition of gemstones.

Leaving his side, I hurry over to it, getting excited. We’d been walking through the crystal and gemstone exhibit for over ten minutes, but each new sight is just as exciting as the last to me. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind following me around.

“So, what’s this one mean?”

he asks, pointing to one as he takes the space next to me, looking down at me.

“That’s howlite. It means letting go or surrendering some- thing meaningful.”

I smile, looking at him”

Letting go of attachments.”

His reaction is delayed, one corner of his mouth raising into a lopsided smile.

“Howlite,” he says.

“Yes,”

I say softer, getting stuck on his huge orbs, sucking me in.

I clear my throat, looking through the glass again, pointing”

And this one is ruby. Which is common, but I love it, anyway.”

I lightly tap the glass, staring at it”

Why?”

he asks bluntly”

Why do I love it?”

I look up at him again, only to see that he’s locked on me, still.

“Yeah. I want you to tell me why,”

he says, rolling his lips in before licking them, his eyes darting at all my features.

“Right,”

I shake my head, “it stands for courage. And passion. Two things I find to be very important in this life.”

Again, with the silence.

Then the staring? God, what’s with the staring? If I look at him again, he’s gonna be staring into my soul.

If he keeps this dead stare, I’m going to scream. Right here. Right in the middle of this museum. His eyes are like the Milky Way, and it’s sickening.

“Is there something on my face?”

My words throw themselves at him as I stare at the empty space on his chest. I catch the sight of the crucifix on his chain.

He chuckles softly”

No, you look perfect. It’s hard for me to stop staring, I’m sorry. I’m trying to understand how I got you to say yes to coming out today, really.”

He finally looks away. Now I wish he hadn’t.

“You’re gonna tell me you don’t do this with women all the time? No way that’s true, Colton. Seriously. Funny, but not true,”

I scoff, flipping my hair back over my shoulder.

“No, I’m serious. You’re breathtaking. I didn’t think I would get this far.”

He smiles charmingly, becoming bashful at the same time.

Well believe it, Kennedy. One of us has to.

“I’m hard to get, I know. But do you own a mirror?”

I ask, prodding at the sleeve of his sweater before looping my arm in his. He’s much broader than he seems.

“Looks mean absolutely nothing if you have zero personality. If I say the wrong thing, who knows what happens next,”

he says, lightly laughing and loosening his stance to allow me to hold onto him.

My lips widen into a grin. Personality, he does have. So, I guess that I can check the basic boxes for red flags. Still seems too good to be true.