If that conversation with Debbie hadn’t been awkward enough, she returned in the late afternoon with Erik. By that point, I’d spoken to Avery and told her the same thing I’d told Debbie. There had been no mention of Jase.

I also hadn’t heard from Jase.

But, right now, I wasn’t really thinking about him.

Erik stood in front of the desk while Debbie packed up a small overnight bag. I sat my laptop on the pillow. She didn’t look at me as she shoved a change of clothing into a small brown-and-pink bag. “You’re not staying here tonight?”

“No,” Erik answered, sending me a snotty look. “She’s staying with me.”

My temper snapped. “I was asking her.”

“Do I look like I’m deaf?” He turned to me, brow raised, and I wanted to knock that cocky smile right off his face. “Or stupid? I know you were talking to her, but—”

“Erik.” Debbie sighed. She zipped up her bag and turned around, her cheeks flushed. “Can we not do this?”

Her boyfriend’s pupils dilated as he turned his head slowly. “Did you just interrupt me?”

The fine hairs on my body rose as I stood. The hardness and challenge in his voice threw me back several years. Muscles in my stomach twisted. I wanted to flee the room because in that moment I saw Jeremy standing there, face contorted in rage.

I don’t know what happened next.

Erik grabbed for Debbie’s bag, but she held on. Maybe she didn’t know what he was trying to do, but it set something off. Redness swept over his face as his bicep flexed. He yanked the bag back, throwing Debbie off balance as the strap was ripped from her hand. Out of instinct, I shot forward, intent on grabbing her arm so she didn’t fall. An angry retort burst from Erik as he swung the bag around. It smacked into my hip, knocking me back. I wasn’t thinking as I stumbled back, arms flying out to catch myself, but fingers grasping air.

All I saw were Debbie’s round eyes as I put my weight on my dominant leg—my right leg—without thinking.

My right leg immediately went out from underneath me as red-hot pain exploded in my knee. A strangled cry escaped me. I went down, landing on my ass as the air punched out of my lungs. The pain was vicious, like someone had taken a knife and shoved it through muscle and cartilage.

Debbie shouted, “Teresa!”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I squeezed them shut, refusing to look at my knee. I couldn’t. Oh my God, I couldn’t look at it.

“Is it your knee?” Debbie asked. “Oh my God, is it your knee?”

Clenching my jaw tight, I nodded. The world outside—the door and the room—all constricted, closing in.

“I didn’t mean to,” Erik said, voice pitched high. “She was in the way. It was an accident. Tell her it was an accident!”

My hands curled into fists as my heart pumped erratically.

“Teresa,” whispered Debbie. I could feel her kneeling beside me. She placed a cold, trembling hand on my arm. “Say something.”

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t look at my knee, because—oh God—I knew. I knew. The pain was too intense, too lasting. It wasn’t just hurt.

My knee was blown.

Again.

Fourteen

Erik bailed quickly, waiting for Debbie in the lobby below. He was lucky, because if I could walk like a normal person, I’d be kicking his ass across campus.

“I’m sorry,” Debbie said for the hundredth time as she helped me up on the bed. “I’m so—”

“Stop,” I snapped, taking a deep breath as my leg jerked from a painful spasm. “Stop apologizing. It wasn’t your fault.”

She backed away, hands clasped together. “He didn’t mean to do it.”

My mouth opened, but I sucked in a sharp breath as a slice of pain traveled up my leg.

“Do you need some ice?” she asked.

Grinding my teeth, I nodded. By the time she returned with a pillowcase wrapped around ice, I’d managed to straighten out my knee and roll up my pant leg. The skin around my knee looked puffy. Not good. I hissed as I placed the ice on it.

“Teresa . . .”

Taking another shallow breath, I looked at her. “He might not have really meant to do that, but he was pissed. He didn’t stop to think when he swung that bag around. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “I know he didn’t mean to.”

Falling silent, I adjusted the ice. My head was numb. Too many things were running through my thoughts.

She hesitated near the bed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Several moments passed before she spoke. “Please . . . please don’t tell anyone.”

My head swung toward her sharply. I couldn’t believe she would ask that of me, and then my heart jumped. Hadn’t I asked the same of my mom and then Cam? Please don’t tell anyone? Because I had been afraid of how Jeremy would react.

The moment to confide in Debbie was here, but she rushed forward and hugged me around the arms and whispered, “Please.”

I didn’t say anything as she left because it was a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep. Lowering my gaze, I slowly eased up the makeshift bag. My skin was red from the cold.

My ringer on my cell phone went off an hour or so later, but I didn’t even look at it. Lying on my back, I’d shoved a pillow under my knee to keep it elevated. By the time I had to hobble down the hall for more ice, the pain had become a constant ache that spiked every so often, as if someone had placed a lit match against my skin.

My knee was swollen. The ice and elevation weren’t helping. I hadn’t heard a pop when I fell, but the swelling was bad news bears. And I knew I couldn’t test my weight on it. Not yet.

There were two more calls that night. Out of the three, two of them were from Jase, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone. Last night . . . last night now felt like forever ago.

I stared at the phone, lip trembling as it signaled a message being left. As the screen blinked black, I reached for it, but drew up short. I couldn’t talk to him yet. If I did, there was a good chance I’d lose it.

Because if my knee was blown again, everything changed. This wouldn’t be temporary. There would be no going back to the studio. This . . . I looked around the dorm . . . this would truly be my life. This whole time I’d been faking it.

I pulled my hand back and rested my forehead against my palm. Another spasm rolled up my leg. I couldn’t deal with this again—the pain, the surgery, the rehab. But this time . . . I shuddered. This time would be different because the worst possible thing you could do to a torn ACL was to reinjure it. Doing so increased the chances of permanent instability.

And I wouldn’t be able to dance again.

When I finally slept, I don’t think I dreamed, and when I woke, the swelling had increased until my knee looked twice its size. I didn’t even consider getting more ice. I knew it wouldn’t do any damn good. I had no crutches, so there was no way I was walking to class. I stayed in my bed as acid churned in my stomach.

My cell went off a few minutes after music class would’ve started. Thinking it was Calla or Debbie—who’d sent me two texts checking in that I hadn’t responded to—I was surprised to see it was from Jase. I still hadn’t checked his message.

Where r u?

Squeezing my eyes shut until they burned, I sat up a little. He deserved a response, even after all those times he ignored me. This wasn’t about him. I sent him a quick message back.