All In (17 page)

Ashley throws her arms around Andrew’s
neck. “Thank you so much, Andrew. You have no idea how much this
means to me.”

He looks at her smiling face when she
lets go then playfully messes up her hair. “Yeah, I think I
do.”

“Thanks again, man,” I say, wrapping
Ashley back under my arm and kissing the top of her
head.

“Dude. No prob. I’d do just about
anything to make Ashley happy, and it seems like I’m not the only
one these days.”

I give Andrew a nod. He’s right. I’d
do anything for my girl.

“So I’ll see you two back here the day
after tomorrow to catch the last ferry back to the Vine.
Cool?”

“Sounds good.” I grab Ashley’s waist,
making her giggle as I walk behind her to the passenger side of my
car. Andrew shakes his head smiling at us as we get in, and then
peel out onto the road.

Almost three days with Ashley all to
myself. After being apart so long, I want to soak up every single
minute we can get together, well, except for the few hours later
today that we’ll be separated, that is if she doesn’t kill me for
what I have planned. It’s still early, so I decide telling her why
exactly I planned this trip, other than to get a few uninterrupted
days with her, can wait just a little longer. Instead, I reach my
hand over and entwine it with hers and soak in every second of her
smiling face.

…

“Where are we?” Ashley asks as I pull
into the tight parking spot behind an old brick building in the
heart of the city.

I circle in my seat to face her and
hope this surprise will be a happy one, considering for the last
hour of the drive I’ve been rethinking the whole damn thing. She
might not be happy about this. At all.

“Ummm,” I say, fidgeting with my car
keys. The sound of them clinking against one another covers up the
sound of my foot nervously tapping against the floor.

Ashley reaches out and takes a hold of
my hands, stilling the keys and my nerves. She just has that way
about her.

“Okay.” I start again. “I have a
surprise for you.”

“Lane, this trip, time with you, is
the best surprise ever. I can’t imagine more,” she says with a
twinkle in her eyes.

Okay, Lane. It’s like a band aid. Rip
it off quick. Just tell her what you’ve done and pray she doesn’t
get mad.

“Baby, remember at the pool when you
danced for me?”

“Yeah…” Ashley says, making it sound
more like a question than a statement.

“Well…” I let out a huge breath. “I’m
sorry I keep stalling, I’m just starting to think maybe this wasn’t
the most thought out plan.”

“Lane, you’re starting to make me
nervous,” Ashley says, scrunching her eyebrows.

I run my hands through my hair making
me look as frantic on the outside as I’m suddenly feeling on the
inside. “Last spring, just in case I didn’t get into Yale, I
applied to a few back up schools.”

“Of course. That’s smart.”

“I also applied to a few back up
schools for my back up schools, because ya never know,
right?”

“Okaaay,” Ashley says, dragging it
out, clearly ready for me to get to the point which I’m rambling my
way to.

“Well, Boston Community College was
one of them, a back up to my back up schools, and it’s not too late
to accept their offer of admissions. I’ve done the math, and with
what I have saved up and what I can earn if I get a job, tuition
along with room and board should be doable.”

Ashley gives me an encouraging smile,
but I can tell she’s not giving up hope I can still make Yale work,
even though I’ve spent countless hours on the phone with the school
trying to rectify the situation to no avail. She thinks a family
friend, who’s on Yale’s admissions board, might be able to help,
and wants me to speak with them next week at the new student alumni
cocktail party, but Yale admittance or not, her parents are hosting
the event and there’s no doubt in my mind I am not
welcome.

“Lane, that’s great, but I still think
we can get your scholarship reinstated, so no giving up yet. Okay?”
she says optimistically and I know she just wants to help make my
dreams come true, and I’m hoping this trip just might make hers
come true too. “I don’t understand what any of this has to do with
my dancing though.”

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could
be in Boston… together,” I say, gesturing to the brick wall we’re
parked in front of. Ashley’s eyes go wide with shock.

“The Boston Contemporary Dance
Company,” she reads off the brick wall so quietly I can barely hear
her before her face goes pale white. I no longer have to wonder if
I made a mistake.

I have.

Ashley

I blink trying to clear my eyes as
they slowly lose their focus on the faded white washed words
painted against the red brick wall. The Boston Contemporary Dance
Company.

I know exactly who they
are.

I look at Lane through the blur of
tears pooling in my eyes and can make out the distinct look of fear
on this face. He looks like I feel.

“Baby.” He cups his hands around my
face. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’m so stupid… I wasn’t
thinking,” he says, wiping the tears away that are now running down
my cheeks.

“Lane—” I start, but he cuts me off
before I can finish.

“I’m so selfish.” He drops his hands
to his lap and hangs his head. “I thought you could dance and I
could go to school here in Boston, and we could still be together.
I feel like an idiot. Like anyone would willingly give up going to
Yale, it was a stupid idea. I’m so sorry.” He runs his hands
through his hair. “Please don’t cry, baby, we can go.”

“Are you done?” I ask, waiting to see
if he has anything else to say for himself.

“I’m just sorry,” he says one last
time, looking dejected.

“I’m not,” I say, letting a slow smile
spread across my face. I can’t believe he did this. For me. I throw
my arms around his neck and bury my face into his shoulder. Fresh
tears fill my eyes and spill over, leaving tiny wet spots on his
tee shirt as he wraps his arms around me.

“You’re… not mad?” Lane asks,
uncertainty written on his face when I pull away from his
hold.

“I am the complete opposite of mad,
Lane.” I wipe away the happy tears. “No one apart from my
grandfather has ever encouraged my dream of dancing. It’s always
been a means to an end as far as my parents were concerned.” I
sniffle. “They would have preferred I play the violin, but he
convinced them dance would be equally well received as an
extracurricular for college applications,” I explain, reaching out
and taking Lane’s hands in mine. “I could never be mad at you, and
how you could worry that you’re being selfish is beyond me. You’re
the one who’s struggling right now about how to achieve your dream
of going to Yale, and you do all of this,” I gesture around us, “to
help me achieve mine. Lane, that’s not selfish, that’s…” I trail
off. Love.

“Baby I—” Lane starts to whisper, all
the worry gone from his face, but I interrupt him with a kiss when
I feel the words bubbling to the surface. I want to tell him how
much I love him.

“Lane…I’m in—”

“You’re in?” Lane asks before I can
finish, a hopeful smile on his face.

In?

Oh. The audition.

I’d let the reality of the actual
audition slip away, overwhelmed by Lane’s gesture and my feelings
for him.

I whip back in my seat, my eyes wide.
I have no routine; no clothes, no music and I’ve had no practice.
As reality fully sets in, I feel my heart start to race, my hands
start to tremble, and it’s hard to catch my breath. I’m on the edge
of a full blown panic attack.

No. I am not in.

“I can’t do this,” I say, making
Lane’s smile fall flat. “I can’t. I can’t,” I murmur as my mind
races with all the reasons this is going to turn into an undeniable
disaster. I just can’t.

“Wanna bet?” Lane says, taking my
hands in his. “Baby, listen to me, you can do this. This is your
dream and you’re going to be great.” His soft reassuring tone keeps
me from falling over the edge completely.

I shake my head. “I’ve never danced
contemporary for anyone before.”

“You danced for me,” Lane says like
it’s the same thing. It’s not.

“This is different…these are
professionals. I can’t just wing it.”

“Yes, you can, Ash. I’ve never seen
you more beautiful and alive than when you danced for me. I may not
be a professional, but I know what I saw. You were
amazing.”

I let the new tears, pooling in my
eyes from his kind words, fall. “But…”

“Baby, it’s your call, but what’s your
dream worth if you aren’t willing to put it all on the line and
take a risk? It might just be a gamble you win.”

I stare at Lane, letting his words
wash over me like the waves over the sand. Are my dreams worth it?
Worth the risk? Worth the reward? And worth the regret if I don’t
try?

They are. And I am. This is my
dream.

I kiss Lane and pour every ounce of my
love into it. “I’m all in,” I say, smiling against his
lips.

“Now, that’s my girl,” he says before
kissing me back, hard.

“Wait,” I say, halting our kiss,
reluctantly. “I’m sure they have a dress code. I know the
conservatories do when you audition, and even if they don’t, I
can’t go in there in jean shorts and flip-flops. They’d laugh me
right off the stage.”

I glance around, searching for
anywhere that might sell something that even closely resembles
dance attire. Coffee shop, bookstore, Mexican restaurant. Damn.
Maybe my pajamas could pass? When I turn and face Lane, he’s
smiling. How can he be smiling when I’m considering wearing my pj’s
to the biggest audition of my life?

“Would this help?” Lane reaches into
the back seat and lifts up a black bag I hadn’t noticed was there,
his smile even bigger than before, if that’s possible.

“But how…?” I ask as he hands me the
bag I keep tucked in the back of my closet full of my dance
gear.

“Andrew,” Lane says, proud of himself
for thinking of everything. “I didn’t want you to have to dance in
your underwear again, at least not for anyone but me.” Lane winks
making me laugh.

I pull out the contents of my bag and
ruffle through a sea of white, pink and black leotards and tights.
There is no way around it; I’m going to look like a ballerina. I
grab a pair of white tights and my favorite black leo that’s mostly
backless except for a thin black cord that cuts across the middle.
It’ll do.

“So, how much time do I have?” I ask,
not entirely sure I really want to know the answer.

Lane glances at the time on his phone.
“Twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes? That’s hardly enough
time to change and stretch, let alone try and come up with a
dance.” I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. I’m just going to
have to make it up as I go along. I can do this. It’s worth
it.

My whole life has been practiced up
until the day I met Lane. He has brought out in me a girl who is
allowed to be free and open and perfectly imperfect. A girl capable
of making it up as she goes along. Be it dancing or
life.

“Well, then I better hurry.” I lean
over and give him a kiss, wondering if he purposely cut it close so
I didn’t have time to chicken out. Smart.

I change quickly, opting to keep my
hair down instead of putting it up in a bun so I look less like a
ballerina. I stare at myself in the mirror, and I know there’s one
last thing I need to do. I grab the spray bottle from my bag that I
use to spritz my Pointe shoes when there’s no rosin around, and
start to spray my hair. When I finish, I can’t help but smile. My
mother would hate the sight of me in my ballet outfit with my curls
let loose. But today isn’t about her, and letting my hair be
natural is my outward expression of my inward hopes and dreams. To
just be me.

“You look beautiful,” Lane says as I
step out of the changing room. He wraps his arms around my waist
and pulls me tight against his body. My cheeks flush at the feel of
him through my thin leotard.

“Ashley Whitmore,” a woman at the
auditorium doors says, startling me. It’s my turn.
Already.

Lane gives me a quick hug before
letting me out of his embrace.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me.” I answer,
walking towards her, but silently wishing I was still in Lane’s
arms since my legs are shaking so bad it’s hard to
stand.

“Hey,” Lane says from behind me,
causing me to glance at him over my shoulder. “Break a leg.” He
winks, and I’m not sure he has to worry. At this rate, I just
might. My legs feel more unstable by the second, but I try to give
Lane a reassuring smile before the woman clears her
throat.

I turn back around, feeling my palms
start to sweat. I take a deep breath before stepping into the
auditorium.

“Oh and Ash?” Lane calls out, getting
my attention once more and making the woman beside me huff with
impatience.