“A studio?” Weston questioned as we both stood outside of the building. I looked at him and smiled, then looked back at the building.
“Not just any studio,” I began to say, unlocking the front door of the building. Weston followed behind me, clearly still confused with what’s going on. We entered the building and stand in the middle of the room; all four walls are covered in mirrors. “A dance studio.”
I dropped my bag in the middle of the floor, walking towards the back of the studio. Weston still looks around, taking in the scene around him.
I turned around and looked at Weston. “This is where I dance.”
“Dance?” Weston repeated as he raised his eyebrow. I immediately get into pointe position without any struggle. Weston’s eyes widened as he watched.
“Dance,” I confirmed.
…
Weston and I sat in the middle of the studio with our books spread out and music on the floor. We did more talking than practice these songs for vocal, but neither of us cared.
“So, this is your sister’s studio?” Weston asked. I nodded my head as Weston seemed genuinely surprised.
“I’ve been dancing here since I was 10,” I began to explain as I organized my sheet music. “My oldest sister is also a dancer, so I spent a lot of my time hanging around here with Milo as a kid and the rest is history.”
“Does Milo also dance?”
“Oh god no,” I reacted. “He still has to put up his thumbs and index fingers to indicate what’s his left and his right.” Weston held his mouth as he let out a loud laugh. He got himself together before he spoke.
“So just you?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“So tell me why you’re not a dual major?” he finally asked. I gave him a look, scrunching my eyebrows as I leaned back on my hands on the floor.
“Who said anything about that?” I spat back. Weston smirked, knowing just how to press the right buttons.
“Logically if you’re a pro at two majors, you’d be classified as a ‘dual major’,” he began to explain. “But you’re not. Why do one and not the other?”
“What are you, a detective?” I playfully said.
“Nope; just an observer. I take everything in and come to conclusions based on factual evidence–“
“Just like a detective.” I crossed my arms along my chest as Weston paused to look at me. I didn’t realize just how dark blue his eyes get when out of the sunlight. “But to answer your question, Detective Ashmore, I didn’t want to dance for Waverly.”
“But dance is clearly your passion; not vocal,” Weston fought back. One thing I’ve learned about Weston is that he will break things down that were never said out loud. It was like he was having a conversation with my inner dialogue; the one that is so desperately trying to not come out for another person.
But even that desperate need to hide felt silly when it came to Weston, which was something that didn’t happen often.
“Milo doesn’t even know this, but I was supposed to be dual major,” I confessed. “But my mom couldn’t afford the expenses of being one, especially for dance.”
“So you’re just going through high school doing something you have no passion behind?”
“I still love to sing, but–“
“If you had to pick one or the other, you’d pick dance,” Weston concluded. I nodded my head, sighing as my answer.
“Plus, the reputation Waverly dancers have would make me rip my hair out. They are all bratty and bitchy and–“
“Rich kids,” Weston concluded again. I hate how good he’s gotten with this. I looked at Weston, trying desperately to get underneath the surface of his skin the way he’s done with me. Weston tightly smiles before continuing his thought. “I get it.”
“Do you really?” I questioned, not convinced that a guy that lived across the country understood where I was coming from.
“We all have dreams that need to be altered due to lack of privilege.”
“Are you also saying you have some hidden talent that you wish you were doing instead?” I sarcastically asked, slightly scoffing.
“Not necessarily a hidden talent,” Weston smiled, looking away. “But I very much do like other things other than vocal.”
“Maybe one day you can show me something that’s important to you,” I said, not realizing just how forward that seemed. “You know, something that you care about—”
“Just a little important piece,” Weston answered back, seeming to play along. I smiled at him, feeling intrigued to get to know him. He felt like someone I should have known longer, yet every new thing I do learn about him is refreshing. Exciting. And the way that he looked at me made me feel… good. Nice. Seen.
My mind instantly came back to the present when I hear the lock of the studio door open. I immediately turned towards the door, forgetting that Weston and I are both alone in this studio without any supervision. Fuck.
My sister, Jennifer, walked into the studio, surprised to see us sitting in the middle of her studio.
“Mollie?” She said, confused. I shot up from the ground, trying to remain as composed as possible.
“Hi, Peppie!” I said enthusiastically, followed with a nervous laugh. Jennifer just kept looking at me, not knowing what to make of this situation.
I cleared my throat. “This is my friend, Weston.” Weston stood up from the ground, tightly smiling as he looked at my sister. “Wes, this is my oldest sister, Jennifer—”
“And the owner of this place,” Jennifer added in a cheeky way.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Weston shyly said. I could practically hear him swallowing hard.
“You too,” Jennifer said back, then automatically looked at me. “So, what brings you here on a day that there’s no practice, class, showcase, and without an adult?” She knew exactly how to make something even more awkward than it already was.
“We were just rehearsing our music,” I finally spoke, trying to ease the obvious tension happening.
“Oh,” she simply replied. “Without Milo?”
“He wasn’t available.” I lied. I didn’t even ask Milo if he was available. Jennifer nodded as she walked further into the studio. I watched as she walked into the back office, thinking I was completely off the hook.
“Mol, can I talk to you for a second?” Jennifer asked. So I thought. I looked at Weston before doing the walk of shame to Jennifer’s office. This might be even worse than getting scolded by mom.
I closed the office door behind me, anticipating Jennifer not being cool about this.
“Peppie—”
“I was a teenager once, but I never brought guys to mom’s job.” Jennifer smirked as she finally looked at me. “Who is he?”
“He really is just a friend,” I said, trying more to convince Jennifer even if it was the truth. “He’s in Mr. Kamalani’s class with me and we were just going over the music for the open house showcase.”
“So why bring him here if you already knew the studio was closed today?” She crossed her arms as she asked. “Where are the rest of your vocal friends?” My silence was proving her point.
“It’s just me and him.”
“Mol,” Jennifer finally sighed, about to get in her older sister mode with me. “Mom would have a fit if she found out you were here with a boy by yourselves.”
“It’s not even like that—”
“You sure?” Jennifer questioned, finally looking at me. Jennifer was the sister that always dug deeper. It was like we shared the same mind, which was probably why she would always ask the questions.
I scrunched my eyebrow, feeling annoyed. “I’m not Milo; I don’t sneak around to do stupid things.”
“I never said you did,” Jennifer pointed out. “I’m just asking if you’re sure that it isn’t like that because it very much does look like that.” Jennifer concluded. I literally couldn’t say anything to change her mind. I literally couldn’t say anything to even convince myself.
Jennifer’s face softened as she looked at me. “I don’t want to see you get your heart broken again because you didn’t allow yourself to get over Aaron.”
“I am over Aaron. You don’t know how I’m feeling—”
“I’m just saying, Mol. Don’t get yourself into something you’re not ready for. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to him.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?” I spat out, feeling defensive.
“Nothing—”
“No, say it! Say to me, woman to woman!”
“You want me to tell you like a woman? You’re gonna fuck around and find yourself getting feelings for a guy just because you miss the attention you got from Aaron.” I looked at Jennifer, trying to process what was just said. I didn’t know whether or not to be boiling mad at my sister. I guess a part of me knew that maybe there was some truth behind that.
Jennifer walked to the office door, opening it for me. All I could do is look at her.
“Be wise,” she demanded. “Anything that isn’t going to improve your craft is just a distraction.” I began to walk out of her office, not turning my head toward her. I stopped when I heard her speak one last time. “I’m not going to tell mom I found yourself in here with him.”
I took a quick glance at Jennifer before walking out the door.
I looked at Weston, sitting on the ground until he looked up and notice me. He stood up, brushing the wrinkles off of his clothes.
“Hey.” Weston looked at me with a tight smile. My face couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Everything okay?”
I looked up at him and gently nodded. “Just a warning.”
“Sorry if I got you in trouble—”
“No, no you’re fine.” I looked deep into his eyes, completely getting lost in them. My body begins to feel warm and cozy, like being covered in a blanket near a fireplace on a rainy day. My mind was racing, thinking about everything Jennifer had said to me.
I couldn’t help myself. I gently tilt my head until I’m near his lips, inches away from his face. He doesn’t move. He looks down as he leans forward until both of our lips touch, sharing a kiss.
We slowly pull away, looking at each other as if we were both questioning what just happened.
“Uhm, I should—”
“Yeah—”
“Before it gets late—”
“Ye—” Before I can even finish my sentence, Weston cups his hands on my jaw, pushing my lips against his; deepening this kiss.
Maybe Jennifer was right. But it was already too late.
Letters From Liz. 