Break

The stall shakes as Dash laughs and bangs his large hands on the walls, one on each side of my head, caging me. “I can tell when you’re lying, Sam. Wanna try again?”

His arms are like boulders, I try to push one so I can escape, but it’s rock solid and not happening. “I have no reason to lie.”

His grin is heart-stopping, and it’s zeroed in on me. I think I might melt into a puddle at his feet. “Excuse me, I’ve got to get to class.”

“No,” Dash says, his eyes holding me in place.

“Dash, can you move?” I cannot believe this is the start that we’re off to.

“I’ll move when you tell me why you’re hiding in here.”

“I told you, I feel like shit, and it has nothing to do with you or lunch.” Maybe I’m sitting in my feelings because I know not a single person is going to congratulate me for making the studio company.

Dash moves his right arm, pulling something out of his pocket and handing it to me. I look down at the granola bar he proffers.

“Eat it.”

“I’m not gonna eat that.” I can hear the fear in my voice.

“If you want me to move, you’re gonna put that in your mouth, chew, and swallow while I watch you.”

“I’m not eating it!”

“You’re thinner than you were when we were kids. You’re either gonna eat it yourself, or I will force-feed it to you. Lady’s choice.”

He grabs my wrist and squeezes tight. My chest is heaving with fear and anticipation and something else that hums right in my solar plexus like a sweet drone, making the baby hairs all over my body prick up.

My mouth waters at the idea of having chocolate. I can’t remember the last time I had a sweet. Junk food has always been off the table with Mother, and candy’s a whole other bag. My hands shake as I peel back the wrapper and take a small bite, relishing the taste as it floods my mouth. I can’t help but close my eyes and revel in the delicious taste.

“You know what, Sam? You can say no to her. A shocking revelation, I know.”

My eyes snap open. I can’t catch my breath as I drown in the smoky depths of his irises. The sugar and his closeness spike my adrenaline. “No, I cannot. Why do you even care?”

“I don’t like anyone else hurting you.”

“So that’s it. You think you can get back at Katerina by forcing me to eat?”

Dash lunges and grabs me, and I yelp in surprise. He gets one arm around my neck and head like he’s about to wrestle me to the ground. But he takes the chocolate granola bar instead and forces it to my lips. I purse in response, and he applies pressure until it hurts and I cave to his strength.

“Eat it,” he says through clenched teeth.

Tears squeeze from my eyes as I let the granola bar in and chew. The chocolate melts on my lips and his fingers. I bite and chew and swallow while Dashiell holds me captive, his face inches from mine. I know objectively that I should be scared, but instead, I’m turned on. It only tells me how fucking demented I’ve become when it comes to food.

“You made the BA Studio Company cause no other dancer in this fucking whole city holds a candle to you,” he grits. “Give yourself credit for once in your goddamned life. Katerina didn’t audition. That was you, Sam. Your body. Your light.”

I whimper in response.

“You did that! Not fucking Katerina, not your bitch-ass boyfriend. Sam did that cause she’s a goddamned phenomenon, but she’s got to eat to keep her strength up!” His lips graze my ear as he scolds me.

My face and neck are now drenched in my tears, but I’m wet elsewhere, too, I’m utterly humiliated.

I swallow down the last sweet bite, and Dash releases me immediately. I raise my hand and wipe the tears and melted chocolate from my face.

Then Dash grabs my neck and kisses me. His lips press into mine, and he uses his tongue to force mine open before plunging it inside. I’m nearly knocked over by the force of him, but he holds me steady in his grip. I kiss him back, drunk on the heady mix of emotions rushing through my mind and body. His mouth is a deep-sea cavern, and I’m already lost.

My brain floats like a blimp and my heart bloats with its hot helium. I’m high off of the protein and the sugar, the fear and the feral hormones. His tongue, his teeth, his lips, as he attacks me with both explosive anger and exquisite care. I’m already confused about food, and when Dash feeds me, it feels like foreplay.

Dash pulls back and stares at me for a moment, the silence circling us before his fingers curl around the back of my neck. He buries his face in my neck, his hot breath like fire against my skin. His lips close in on mine, so close they almost touch, but a millimeter of space remains.