Chapter 12

Reminder: Kock on the bathroom door

I suck at school. Always have.

In high school, I was always falling behind, trying to catch up with everyone else and failing miserably. Homework felt impossible, tests were a nightmare, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get it right. But there's one thing I'm really good at.

Dancing.

It's the one thing that makes me feel like I don't totally suck. When I'm dancing, it's like everything else fades away, and I can just be myself. I feel confident and free, moving to the music, and for once, I actually feel like I belong somewhere.

I live and breathe dance. I always have, ever since I was a little girl. It's the one thing that's always felt right, like it's a part of me. I can still picture those old videos my mom would play for me, showing baby Gabi bouncing around in her diapers. It's like dancing has been in my blood from the very beginning.

I was terrible at first, of course, but even back then, I knew this was my calling. It's the only thing I've ever felt truly skilled at, and the one thing I've worked my ass off for.

Which is why I'm rushing to get to class, ten minutes late. It's not entirely my fault, but Cassie won't care about excuses. She's relentless when it comes to being on time. My hand reaches out, grabbing the door handle, and I slip inside just as I hear a frustrated sigh.

"Gabriella, what did I say?" Cassie sighs, shaking her head in disappointment.

"I know." My chest pounds as I catch a moment to breathe. "But it wasn't my fault this time. There was a massive traffic jam from an accident, and I was stuck in traffic forever."

"She always has excuses."

My eyes narrow at Tiffany who whispers loudly at the girls around her. I don't hate people often. There's only a few people on that list, but Tiffany is definitely one of them.

She was Leila's roommate back in freshman year, and when we became friends, we tried to befriend Tiffany too, but there's no befriending a witch.

"Not that it's any of your business, but it's not an excuse. It's the truth," I shoot back, feeling my blood boil.

She scoffs, screwing up her face at me. "Are you sure you weren't late because you were with a guy?" She blinks, tilting her head. "Or was it a girl this time?"

Tiffany's the kind of person who thinks she's better than everyone else. She's been a jerk since day one. She shamed Leila for having casual sex, like it was a crime to be single. I wouldn't be surprised if Tiffany was just jealous, since her boyfriend was all over every girl but her. But since they've broken up, she's still the same vile, awful girl I can't stand to be around.

But it doesn't end there. When she found out I was bi, she made it her mission to let me know how much it bothered her. I never understood why. It's not like it has anything to do with her. Unless...

"Do you want to fuck me?" I ask her, closing the distance between us. "Is that the problem?"

She widens her eyes, blinking a few times. "What?"

I shrug, stepping closer once more. "You love talking about my sex life, and calling me every name under the sun." The memories of her calling me a slut and hitting on Chris in the same breath come flooding back. I curl my fists beside me, narrowing my eyes at her. "Do you want me, Tiffany?"

"Ew." She steps back, her shoulders hitting the mirror. "Get away from me. I have zero interest in you."

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. Am I seriously still dealing with people like this? I thought I'd left this crap behind in high school. Apparently not. "Then stay away from me and my friends, and we won't have a problem," I grit out, closing the gap between us.

"Alright," Cassie calls out, her voice tinged with frustration. "Let's all cool down. This isn't a boxing ring." I can't help but chuckle under my breath, the image of putting Tiffany in her place in an actual boxing ring bringing a fleeting sense of satisfaction. But deep down, I know it's wishful thinking. People like her don't change.

I've been hiding my whole life. I knew I liked both girls and guys from a very young age, but I kept pushing it away, convincing myself it was wrong. But it was undeniable. The same attraction I felt for guys, I felt for girls too. It wasn't until I opened up to Chris and confided in him that it finally clicked for me. Still, I never dared to act on it, not while I was in high school, not while anyone could have told my father.

When I came to college, I thought I would finally be able to stop hiding. Being with a girl for the first time was nerve-wracking as hell. It was scary, new, and amazing. I was so excited to finally be myself and not have to deal with people's unnecessary opinions. But what I didn't realize then was that there are always going to be people like Tiffany and my dad who hate me for just existing.

"Alright, everyone, work on your stretches, and we'll start soon," Cassie announces to the class. Then she turns her head toward me, curling a finger, signaling for me to come over to her.

"I didn't touch her," I say, holding my hands up. "I wanted to. God, I wanted to punch her so bad, but I didn't."

Cassie smirks for a second, but then her expression softens, her authoritative demeanor slipping back into place as she sighs. "You can't let her get to you, Gabriella."

No one calls me Gabriella. At least not anymore. So hearing it makes me stiffen a little, my dad yelling my name in the back of my head.

"Easier said than done," I reply with a scoff. Leaning in closer, I continue, "If you'd just let me hit her. Just once…" I trail off, letting out a deep breath. Probably wouldn't change anything, but I'm sure it'd make me feel a whole lot better.

"I can't condone violence," she says, her tone serious, but then the corner of her lips lift slightly. "At least not in this room. If it was anywhere else…" Her shoulder lifts in a shrug.

My expression relaxes, and I chuckle. "I'm going to miss you when I graduate."

"Yeah. Yeah." She sighs. "I know. I'm the best." Another laugh bubbles out of me. "And so are you."

"I know," I say with a nod.

She smiles warmly. "Good. I just wanted to make sure you knew. You're amazingly talented, Gabriella."

"Yeah, I know," I repeat, a smirk playing on my lips. "Tiffany can say whatever she wants about me, but we both know she'll never be better than me when it comes to dancing."

Cassie scoffs, a playful glint in her eye. "Honey, she's hardly better than you at anything."

I smile up at her, admiring her. "I honestly think you're my mom in another universe."

She gasps dramatically, placing her hand on her chest. "I'm way too young to be your mother."

I chuckle. She's only eight years older than me, but when I joined her class as a fresh-faced freshman, having just lost my mom two years before, I kind of clung to her.

"A cool auntie, then," I suggest.

She smiles back warmly. "I'll always be here for you, okay? Even when you leave Redfield and become a famous dancer, swimming in millions, and forget about me."

I scoff, shaking my head. "I'll never forget about you. And we don't even know if I got in yet."

"Right. Of course," she says, winking at me before scrolling through music on her phone.

I blink. "You know something?"

She shrugs, a playful smile lingering on her lips as she gazes at her phone. "Maybe."

"What?" I press, leaning in eagerly. She sets her phone aside, and bends down with a smirk, ignoring me as she starts to stretch. "What do you know?" I ask, desperate for answers.

She straightens her back, and flashes me a grin. "Let's get started people," she calls out.

I narrow my eyes at her. "I hate you."

"I know, honey," she says with a wink. "Now get into position. Have you been stretching?"

I blow out a breath. "I've mastered the splits like you told me to. What more do you want from me, woman?"

With a laugh, Cassie reaches for her phone to press play. Stepping back, I adjust my position, smoothing down my shirt in the mirror and tucking it into my sports bra.

The room fills with the loud bass of the music, and Cassie launches into the new choreography. I focus intently on her movements, soaking in every detail and marking the steps as I watch her. The music fills the room, and I break out into a grin as I watch her move, her long braids swaying with each fluid motion. She's so incredibly talented, and it pains me to think she might be wasting her gifts on a bunch of idiots.

Except for me, obviously .

The music fades out as she finishes demonstrating the new choreography, turning to us with a sigh of relief. "So, what did you guys think?" The girls clap and cheer, showing their support, and Cassie laughs, taking a bow. "Alright, ready to learn the choreo?"

An hour later, I'm on the verge of dying.

Okay, maybe not quite, but really close. Cassie always works my butt off. I like to think it's because I'm her favorite, but honestly, she's just all about perfection, pushing us until we've got it down.

"You killed me," I mutter, sprawling out on the cool wooden floor. "I'm officially deceased. Call the undertaker."

"Quit lying on the floor," she retorts, a hint of amusement in her voice.

I groan and shake my head. "Legs. Don't. Work."

"It's because you didn't stretch," she replies, prompting me to narrow my eyes as I sit up to face her. "Next time, don't be late, so you can properly warm up."

"I demand a refund," I say, shooting her a glare.

"The class is already finished," she replies, raising an eyebrow and resting a hand on her hip.

"I'm talking about the last four years. This is emotional torture. Scratch that, physical torture."

She shakes her head. "Cut the drama and head on home. Aren't you getting hungry by now?"

At the mention of food, my stomach rumbles, and I shoot her a surprised look. "How did you guess?"

She gives me a dry look. "You're always hungry."

I chuckle, admitting defeat. "Guilty as charged. So," I say, crossing my feet on the ground as I smirk at her. "Got any snacks?"

"Does this look like a restaurant to you?"

I shrug. "I feel like you owe me compensation for putting me through torture."

"I'm closing up in five," she says. "Are you sure you want to risk being stuck here all night?"

I laugh. "Alright, alright," I relent, pushing myself up from the floor and waving her goodbye.

By the time I pull into my driveway, I'm desperate for a shower. Sweat soaks my clothes, and I can't wait to peel them off. I slip my headphones over my ears as I step out of the car and hit play, letting the music fill my ears.

"Chris?" I call out as I step through the front door, pulling the headphones off and wrapping them around my neck.

No answer.

My gaze shifts to his closed bedroom door, and I figure he must still be asleep. He's been here for over a week now, but his sleep schedule is still all over the place.

I kick off my sneakers and head into my bedroom, swiftly pulling off my t-shirt, leaving only my sports bra on. I grab a fresh pair of sweats and a tank top, ready to take a steaming hot shower.

As I disconnect my headphones, the music starts playing from my phone's speaker. Humming along to the song, I leave my bedroom, and push open the bathroom door.

"Ughh. Fuck."

My head shoots up in confusion, and my phone slips from my grasp and clatters to the ground at the sight in front of me.

Chris' eyes widen in shock as he turns to face me, and I meet his gaze, taking in the sight of him standing in the shower, completely naked, with his fist wrapped around his cock.