Greek (Palm South University)
My frown intensifies because she’s got a point I can’t really argue with.
I open my mouth to at least attempt to ramble through some sort of positivity speech when there’s a soft rap of knuckles on the doorframe.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Brandon says, and the look on his face makes me sit up a little straighter. “Um… you have a visitor.”
If it was one of the girls, they would have just plowed right in by now. And if it was someone from the office, Brandon likely would have told them I’d see them next week when I came back. So I just answer with a confused frown, not sure what to say.
And when he moves to the side and Bo Hán walks under the arch, I drop my sippy cup, thankful for the child-proof lid as it hits my leg and bounces off to the floor.
“Holy shit,” Skyler says, popping up first with a wide grin. “Bo?! Oh, my God!”
Skyler runs to Bo, who’s smiling uncomfortably, her eyes flicking to me and then back to Skyler just in time to catch her crushing hug. I don’t miss the relief that washes over her the longer Skyler squeezes her, and the way her shoulders relax, her smile widening.
“I haven’t seen you in forever! How are you?” Skyler asks, pulling back to frame her arms. “You look amazing.”
And she does. Her sleek, sable hair is short and edged at her chin, her warm brown eyes highlighted with gold, lashes long and sleek. She’s as petite as I remember from college, only now she seems to stand taller, more confident, like she’s not hiding a damn thing about herself anymore. The long-sleeve, white, lace top she’s wearing buttons all the way from her chin to the hem of the little black flare skirt she’s paired with it, and though the heels she’s wearing are slight, they’re strappy and bright red and just enough pop of color to tell you you’re in the presence of a bad bitch.
“I’m good,” Bo says, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her eyes dart to mine then, and she holds my gaze, a soft smile spreading on her smooth, peony pink lips.
Skyler looks between us, then at Brandon — who looks majorly confused and marginally concerned — before saying, “Brandon, can you come help me with something in the kitchen?”
She doesn’t wait for his response before looping her arm through his and steering him down the hall. He gives me a questioning glance, but I smile and blow him a kiss, hoping it soothes whatever concerns he might have.
And then I’m alone with Bo Hán.
In the bedroom I share with my boyfriend.
Bo swallows, stepping inside a little bit as her eyes take in the length of me. “Do I want to know what happened to put you in that hardcore of an arm sling?”
“I fell off the pole,” I say, a little breathlessly, a little too quickly. I just keep blinking over and over like she’ll disappear with the next opening of my eyes.
Bo’s face falls slack at that. “You’re… you’re doing that again?”
I shake my head. “Not like you think. I got out of that situation, and I never looked back. But, once I got my career on track, and found Brandon…” I shrug. “I found my heart missing that piece. So, I found a new studio. I’ve been dancing and competing… they even asked me to teach,” I add with a small smile. Then, I nod down to my arm. “Until this, anyway.”
“I’m sure they’ll still want you,” Bo offers quickly. “Especially if you’re even half as amazing as you used to be.”
I nod, trying to smile, but the frown etched in my brows overpowers it.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” I finally whisper.
Bo’s eyes well with tears, and she moves closer, letting out a long exhale as she leans down to retrieve the sippy cup of wine I dropped. She places it on the bedside table before sitting on the edge of the mattress, hands folding in her lap.
“I thought the same,” she admitted, her eyes searching mine.
A long silence passes between us, no words necessary as we took each other in. I wonder if the memories are flashing in her mind the way they are in mine, but the way her eyes stay watery, the way her smile quivers a bit — I know I don’t have to ask.
“I graduated in the spring,” she explains. “My parents sent me to a tiny university in Montana, of all places. Can you believe it?” When my only answer is a deadpan look, she chuckles. “Yes, I suppose you can. But… strangely, I grew to love it. The mountains, the pastures, the quiet. I had space to think, and to grow, and to come into myself.”
I nodded. “You seem happy.”