I'm letting go completely, and that's something I never do in the real world. But in here, with the music, I'm always me.
It's the only place I've ever truly felt like me.
But as I fall to the ground in time with the final strains of music, breathless and alive, I realize that's not entirely true.
I felt this way twelve years ago in Wyatt's arms.
I felt it again last night.
And I'm not sure that I have the strength to stay away from the one man who can truly bring me to life.
18
"Griff!" I yelp, as I clutch the door with one hand and the dashboard with the other. "If we die before we get to the party, I am totally going to kill you. And if you scratch Blue, I'm going to disown you."
"Chill," he orders. "I'm just doing what you never do."
"If you mean driving like a complete idiot down a twisty canyon road, then yeah. I never do that."
We're still well above the city in the hills that separate the Valley from the West Side, but he's slowed down a bit. Whether because the road's now reasonably straight or because of my griping, I'm not really sure.
"I should never have let you drive," I mutter.
"Nonsense. Blue loves it, don't you, girl." He pats the Mustang's dashboard, and I have to grin.
I also realize in that moment that I can't sell Blue. She's an easy route to a decent amount of cash, but there's no way I can part with her. I love her too much.
More important, so does Griff.
Which means that I have to do the shoot, figure out another way to earn fifteen grand really fast, or tell Griffin I don't have the money.
I already know I can't do the shoot. I'd be trading fifteen grand for unemployment once the show opened.
But I also don't have another way to earn the money really fast. It's not like I have the money in investments. After all, I'm the girl whose checking account is feeling warm and full and happy if it tops four hundred after I've paid the mortgage, utilities, and all the other necessary bills.
I've got some savings, sure, but it's mostly retirement accounts through my school that aren't vested yet, so I can't get to the money. I already pulled out five thousand from savings for the initial cost of getting him into the program, and now I have just enough in my account to cover a month of living expenses if I lose my job. Which I won't since I'm not posing for Wyatt.
And I can't take out an equity loan against the condo I bought at the height of the real estate market because that bubble burst, and I'm upside down.
A bad financial decision on my part, maybe, but I do love my little place in Valencia.
I could borrow from Nia, but I don't know when I could repay her, and I firmly agree with the adage of not mixing money with friendship.
Working more can't save me either. I did the math, and even though I've rearranged my summer so that I can offer two extra children's dance classes and one adult Zumba class, that won't earn me anywhere close to the money I need.
Which means I'm out of luck.
Or, rather, Griffin is.
I just don't quite know how to tell him.
"Hey," he says. "Where'd you go? I just took that curve at lightning speed, and you didn't even yell at me."
I smile. "Maybe I'm becoming a daredevil."
"Yeah, that'll be the day." He glances up at the cloth roof. "We really should have the top down."
"I love this car, and I love that it's a convertible. But I spent an hour on my hair, and you're crazy if you think I'm going into some big producer's mansion looking windblown."