“You thought he was a creep?” Trihn asked in surprise.

“Uh…yeah. He had slimeball written all over him. I would have warned you, but you were in way over your head.”

“Yeah, I guess I was,” she said softly.

“Cassidy!” the stage manager called. “You’re up on deck, honey.”

“That’s my cue, love. Think about it. Either way, I’ll be in Vegas by Saturday, and if you don’t come with, I’m going to miss you.”

Cassidy pulled her into a fierce hug, and then they walked out together. Cassidy rushed over to stand by the stage entrance, and Trihn found Ian standing amid a cloud of women. She laughed, but her head was elsewhere.

What would it be like to take Cassidy’s advice? Could I leave everything I’d ever known behind to go to Las Vegas on a whim?

Sure, she had applied to Las Vegas State’s Teena Hart School of Design as a backup. Her mother had discovered Teena Hart out of the LV State fashion school before it had been anything. Her designs now were on runways around the world, and she had spent a small fortune building the school into something that competed with the top-tier fashion programs. It still wasn’t NYU or Parsons, but it wasn’t looked down upon either.

What the hell am I thinking? I couldn’t leave my entire life behind to run away to Vegas.

Could I?

TRIHN COULDN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

Ever since Cassidy had asked her to go to Las Vegas, it was like a virus infecting her brain. She silently weighed the pros and cons of what that could mean for her life and also wondered if it would even be possible for her to start at LV State on such short notice. The fact that she was thinking about it at all worried her.

Her father had sent her back home, so she could cool off about what was going on with Lydia. But the longer Trihn was here, the more she saw Preston on every corner. It didn’t matter how many times she had been in the city before him. Somehow, the summer had reshaped her worldview on her own hometown. He was everywhere. And worse yet, he would be everywhere with Lydia in the fall.

Trihn’s stomach couldn’t handle it. Maybe if Lydia and Preston were separated, then she could stay in New York and begin to fix her relationship with Lydia. She could change the way she saw every corner and diner and coffee shop that she associated with Preston. They could be sisters having fun at the same college. It could be fine.

But Lydia had chosen to stay with Preston, and they weren’t fine.

And it was worse than that. She had always looked up to Lydia. Trihn had wanted to be her so badly when she was younger. They had gone to the same private school. They had danced at the same dance studio. It only made sense for them to move in together and go to college together. They shared everything—even a boyfriend.

If I move in with Lydia and go to NYU, would I grow to be the better person I want to be?

“Are you okay?” Ian asked.

Trihn had almost forgotten that he was driving as they went to the NYC Dance House to pick up Renée and fill her in on what had happened.

“Maybe. Cassidy just gave me a lot to think about.”

“Well, I’m trying not to think about all the offers I got while in that place.” His blush reached his ears. “And you wanted to dance there?”

She nodded. “I did.”

“I never would have guessed.”

“You’ve known me my whole life, and I’m still full of surprises.”

“I like you that way,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah,” she whispered, leaning against the door and looking out at her city as it sped by.

Renée was waiting for them on the front steps of the Dance House when they drove up. Her black hair was tied up into a sleek bun, and she had on a pink skirt over her tights and leotard.

“I see how it is,” Trihn said as Renée climbed into the SUV. “Can’t even bother to get decent for us.”

Renée threw her dance bag into the back and plopped down. “I don’t want to hear it from you, missy. You ran away from home.”

“Technically, I ran to home,” Trihn corrected her.

“Well, fill me in on the details, and let’s get something to eat. I’m starving. I need a burger.”

“So, you’re not on the Juilliard diet yet?”

Renée grabbed a pointe shoe from her bag and threw it at the back of Trihn’s head. Trihn dodged it and laughed.

“Oh, hey, Ian,” Renée said. “Long time no see.”

“Good to see you again. Congratulations on Juilliard,” Ian said, veering them out of Manhattan and back toward Trihn’s home in Brooklyn.

“And you’ll be at…Columbia?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s right. We’ll both be on the Upper West Side.”

“That’s still terrifying to me. Moving from the Bronx to the Upper anything,” she admitted. Renée shuddered. “All right. Give me the deets.”

So, Trihn filled her in on everything that she had missed while Trihn was on vacation. All the sordid details of the past week spilled out of her in a long, detailed diatribe. It sounded pretty awful and pathetic when it was all displayed in that fashion. She kind of hated herself for allowing something like this to happen, but mostly, she despised Preston for the kind of person he turned women into. She and Lydia were supposed to be strong, independent women, and they were both acting like idiots over a man.

They reached Trihn’s place by the end of the conversation, and they all bustled inside. Trihn started whipping up sandwiches for them since most of the good places nearby were closed. She could have ordered in, but it was somehow calming to have something to do while she finished her story.

“So, I went to see Cassidy,” Trihn told Renée and Ian.

He was still listening to the story he already knew, but this next part would be new to him.

“Cassidy Kincaid?” Renée asked, her eyes wide. “You still hang out with her?”

Trihn nodded. “I’ve been dancing with her after the studio closes for about two years now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“No one else really got along with her. She didn’t fit the ballerina mold,” Trihn explained. “And she’s not dancing ballet anymore. She’s been working in a burlesque club and pole dancing.”

“Wow. Good for her,” Renée said.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I mean, she was a great ballerina, but I could see her being amazing at anything. Plus, I bet she’s happier in that atmosphere, doing what she loves.”

“She is,” Trihn agreed. “She offered me a job pole dancing, but then she was offered a job for a Cirque show in Las Vegas.”

“Holy shit! That’s fantastic!”

“Wow,” Ian said. Even he was impressed.

“Yeah.” Trihn looked down at her hands. “She asked me to go with her.”

Both of her best friends were silent. She peeked up at them, and they both looked stunned.

“But you start school in a few weeks,” Ian reasoned.

“And what would you do there? What about fashion design?” Renée asked.

“I know. I know. I told her I’d think about it.”

“Are you thinking about it?” Renée asked at the same time as Ian said, “Seriously?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I’m tired of living in Lydia’s shadow, and I can’t live with her if she’s with Preston. I told her that, but I don’t think she believes me. I can’t do it.”

“That doesn’t mean you walk away from everything!” Ian said.

“Shh,” Renée chided him. “This isn’t our decision. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Trihn nodded. “I think I am. I mean, at least I’m seriously considering it. Renée, you’re going to Juilliard to pursue your dreams, and, Ian, you’re going to Columbia to pursue yours.”