WILLOW
I'm well aware that my whole body is shaking and I can't breathe normally when my finger press the doorbell. I checked fifteen times for the right house– House. This is not a house. This is a fucking mansion. Yes, because rich people live here.
My heart speeds up when I hear someone yelling 'Summer, there's someone at the door!' meaning her moms are here. Her Grammy winner mom and her hockey player mom. Holy shit, I should not be here right now. What was I thinking? Why did I say yes?
I'm at Luna Bennett's house. How is this even real? How much will it hurt to see Summer interacting with her moms? Fuck, I'm gonna meet them. The family that made me cry every time I glanced at the TV, every time I opened a social media app. I know it's not their fault I grew up with a shitty parent but it's pretty obvious I don't fucking belong here.
Soft steps come from the inside of the house and I feel her presence before I see her. My heart goes crazy in my chest and I suck in a breath when the door opens. It's like in slow motion when I see her– so pretty and tiny and delicate, there she is.
Looking so tired and sad but she gives me a genuine smile that lights up her eyes. Summer is wearing a Taylor Swift oversized shirt and purple sweatpants. Jesus fuck. Why is she always this pretty? And why does she look so broken? Her sadness is so obvious to me, making my own chest hurt. Maybe it's because I know what sadness feels and looks like. Something burns inside my chest, I hate to see her like this.
"Willow, hi." her sweet voice fills the air, bringing a smile to my lips. "Come in, I was waiting for you."
She takes a step back, door opening as she does, making room for me to step inside. "Sorry I'm late. I was just..." deciding if I should come or not. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine, don't worry." she smiles. "Follow me, my moms are watching a movie they won't bother us."
I follow Summer inside the house with shaky hands and a heart that's going a mile per second, the smell of strawberries fills my lungs as soon as we step in.
The white walls are filled with picture frames everywhere. Family photos, a lot of trophies and medals, drawings. Some kid toys are laying on the white marble floor, I notice three pair of skates in one of the corners of the house, some hockey sticks, everything in here screams Home, so I force myself to stop looking around. This is what a home looks like. I was lucky if I had food in the fridge once a week, or month.
Stop comparing your lives, Willow!
"Sunshine! Who was it?" a voice makes my heart stop for a moment.
Summer stops walking and I accidentally tripped over her, she winces when our bodies collide and her eyes close probably expecting the fall but I don't let her. My arms wrap tightly around her tiny waist without even thinking about it. Her chest press against mine and our faces are so close that I feel her warm breath near my lips. Fuck, no.
"Summer?" a different voice calls.
"Fuck." Summer presses her lips together in... pain?
"Are you okay?" my voice comes out as a whisper. I let her go, placing her softly in the ground. "Did I hurt you?"
She shakes her head, biting her bottom lip. "I'm fine, sorry." she breathes. "You didn't hurt me."
"Are you hurt?"
She hesitates for a second, her soft brown eyes landing on mine. "I... It's normal. Life of a full time ballerina." she tries to joke, chuckling as she does but the sound is off. Fake.
I get lost for a moment inside those hazel eyes but my head turns to the left at the sound of footsteps. My heart skips a lot of beats at once when I notice the two older women walking to us. A redhead walks in first with a frown on her face, blue eyes fill with something I can't name but she doesn't even look at me.
"Summer? Are you okay?" her hands fly to the girl next to me and land on her cheeks. Summer's cheek turn red and I try really hard not to smile.
"Uh, um... Yeah. I'm fine." Summer says, an awkward smile on her face.
I feel eyes on me but mine are fixated on the brunette with brown eyes. So fucking adorable. "Want to introduce us to your friend?" a different voice asks and my eyes land on her.
Holy fucking shit. My entire body freezes.
Luna Bennett is standing right in front of me. Green eyes, brown hair, even taller than me. Her face shows no emotion towards me, I try to swallow the big knot in my throat, and place my hands inside my pockets.
Summer notices the anxiety in my body, and comes to stand next to me. "Moms, this is Willow James. We're doing a project for the uh, winter showcase. Willow, this are my moms, Mia." she gestures to the ginger woman. She's like an older version of Aurora. "And Luna
Luna Bennett gives her daughter a warm smile, but something— No, someone makes me stumble backwards when two arms wrap around my neck, blocking my view with red strands of hair. What is happening right now? The hug is over before I can even process what happened. Blue eyes sparkle and a bright smile welcomes me. "I'm Mia, Summer's mom. It's so nice to meet you."
"Jesus, mom. Give her some space." Summer hisses, clearly embarrassed but a part of me warmed up with that quick hug. A lot of mommy issues to work on.
"Hi... Hello, sorry. I'm Willow." I offer my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bennett."
"Oh, please. It's just Mia. Mrs. Bennett makes me feel old." she gives me a soft smile that calms my nerves, takes my hand and places the other one above it. Did she notice I'm shaking?
"I'm Luna Bennett." Luna tells me. Luna Bennett is taking to me. She gives me a small nod with her head before she adds, "Summer's mom."
"Mom." Summer deadpans.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm a huge fan." Well, that's a lie.
Luna hums like she know I'm full of shit and takes my hand after her wife drops it. "Luna." Mia says in the same tone her daughter did. "Be nice."
"I am–"
"Well," Summer interrupts and grabs my hand. She grabs my hand. She's holding my hand, why is my heart fluttering at that? "We'll be at the studio, don't call me if you need anything."
Summer starts dragging me but we only take two steps before her mom stops us. "Wait. Willow, have you had dinner? We have lasagna."
Blood rushes to my cheeks. "Oh, I'm fine. Thank you, uh– Mrs. Bennett."
She shakes her head with a smile. "It's Mia. Want some water? tea? coffee? We have cake, too."
"Thank you, I'm okay." I give her my best smile, hoping it doesn't look disturbing by how nervous I am.
Mia nods and turns around to her wife, murmuring something like stop pretending to be intimidating in front of her daughter's friends– I can't listen too much to their conversation because Summer drags me through her whole house, it's so big I could get lost in it and not know how to get outside. We pass a lot of rooms before we get to the last one in the house.
"Brought me here to murder me?" I tease trying to lose the tension in the air, she opens the door with a key.
She chuckles, shaking her head. "Careful, the room is soundproof and there's only one key."
"Cute." I wrinkle my nose. "I know self defense, Bennett."
She closes the door behind us when we're inside, and my breath stops at the sight in front of me. "You think I don't? I have two moms. One of them is a hockey player." I'm not watching her but I know she's smirking at me.
"Holy shit. This is like a real–real studio." I spin around the room with eyes wide open, taking everything in.
Her chuckle makes my heart beat even faster. "That's because it is. Rory and I have our own dance studio next door but I think we can do something here."
I turn to face her. "You have your own dance studio? In your own house?"
Her cheeks glow and she presses her lips together in a nod. "A lot, I know. My family is a little... dramatic."
Dramatic? Filled with money, I'd say.
Even in this room are family photos. And pictures of Mia with a lot– a lot of famous singers. Some of them my favorites, making me feel even more nervous than I am.
The shelves have a lot of vinyls, awards, the walls have golden and silver plates with the songs she wrote and produce, I assume and–
"Holy shit, is that a real Grammy?" I get close to one of them because there are a lot.
"Uh, yeah." Summer murmurs on the other side of the room.
Next to the award there's a picture of two little girls in pink leotards, pink tutus and ballet shoes hugging each other in the middle of a dance studio and smiling like they've never been happier.
They look not older than nine, my heart aches at their sight. Two little girls that grew up in a loving, beautiful family and so happy that I can practically feel it all over the house.
"You look so cute." I whisper and what I intended to sound just for me, I know Summer heard it because she's suddenly next to me, staring at the picture with me.
"That was when our moms showed us the dance room here." she chuckles softly. "I was six, I loved dancing so much but I couldn't go that much to the studio with school and traveling for my mom's games or my uncle's– or storm days so... my moms gave me this."
When I was six, my mom gave me a bruise on my arm but whatever, right?
Stop it, Willow. "You look very happy, your whole face is lighting up in this picture."
"I was."
I turn my head to her. Brown eyes that are always sparkling now they're not. The little girl in the picture looks so alive and the girl in front of me has lost that light. What happened to her?
But instead, my arms wrap around her neck and I bring her close to my chest.
Summer startles at my sudden movement for a moment but then she gives in. She blows out a long, tired breath and relaxes in my arms. Her soft hands slide through my hoodie and they lock on my waist, she brings me close to her and hides her face in my chest. Fuck me. I really, really hope she can't hear the way my heart is going absolutely crazy for her.
I inhale her sweet smell– while her house smells like strawberry, Summer's scent is more sweet like coconut and vanilla– or... Summer. She smells like summer. Sunshine. Beach. Happiness. Is that even a smell?
I close my eyes, getting lost in the moment and her arms, I let myself feel her, she's so delicate in my arms— I can't help but think I want to fix whatever is broken. I want to hurt whoever broke her. I want her to find her light again. I want her to smile and laugh and that to be real. Why do I feel like this? This is so dangerous. I have never felt this way before, I feel the need to protect her and I don't know her. I can't know her.
We don't belong in each other's worlds and... I can't be her friend, but for a moment, I ignore those thoughts and just let myself feel. She looked like she needed a hug– or maybe it's for me.
"Willow?" she mumbles softly.
"Hmm?"
"Why are you hugging me?" I exhale, her body moves against me with my movement.
"You seemed like you needed one." I confess, so quietly like I'm telling a secret. "And I needed one too."
She's quiet for a beat, I don't dare to move or open my eyes. I don't want this moment to end. "Do you, uh... Wanna talk about it?"
Yes. Yes, I want to talk to you for hours. About everything. About nothing. I don't care. "Maybe some other time."
"M'kay." she breathes.
❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅
"So, this is the song you want to use?" her sweet voice echoes in the soundproofed room. It's actually amazing, we can't hear absolutely nothing that's going on outside these four walls. I don't even know what time it is.
"I think so, yeah." I nod, playing around with the lyrics in my hand. "It's sad, nostalgic, telling a story. Do you think it'll be easy with the dance?"
She nods, she's sitting on the other side of the room with her eyes close. I'm afraid she's going to fall asleep in any moment. She looks tired and she's been dancing nonstop with this song, searching for the right moves.
"Ballet is also about telling stories– sad stories are my favorite." she gives me a smile
that doesn't reach her eyes.
"Why do you always stay late at the studio? Is that normal?"
She sucks in a breath at my question but doesn't open her eyes. Her hands land on her stomach as she thinks of her answer. "I have an important performance in November. A performance that will bring a lot of opportunities and open doors to my future. I'm always practicing."
"Five hours per day?"
Her nose wrinkles with a sad laugh. "More like seven or nine. It would be more if I wasn't in college."
"But that's not what you want." I say, recalling our conversation at the beach. Her brown eyes open and they find mine across the room. "You told me you don't know if you want a future in ballet."
"I said dancing is my life." she raises her brows. "I can't give up after everything my moms did for me."
I can't disappoint them, is what she doesn't say but I read it in her eyes. "I'm sure your moms will support you in everything you do, Summer."
Her face softens and she shrugs. "It's not easy. I..."
"You can tell me." I nod encouraging her.
She doesn't look like a person who trust easily but, somehow, I want her to feel safe with me. I want to know everything about her.
"It's just... growing up in the spotlight, having famous moms, uncles, aunts, friends– It's not easy. I... care too much about what people think about me. It's a problem, I know." she gives me a sad smile.
"People expect me to be this amazing girl, best ballerina in the country after Daisy–my dance instructor– She's building me to be the next her. I'm already the youngest girl to win the most important trophy in ballet. In November, I'll be the youngest girl to have danced to the Swan Lake. I can't give up now, I'll disappoint so many people. My family, included."
Her voice is filled with sadness and she's playing with her fingers nervously. I need to hug her again. "You're not those things you just mentioned."
"What?" her eyes snap to me.
"You're not the girl who won a trophy. You're not the girl who'll dance in November. You're not what people expect you to be. You are your own person, Summer. You're Summer Bennett. You like to dance, yes. But you also love to write, listen to music, sing, spending time with your family and friends– you are not dancing. Dancing is not your life, I don't know who told you that but it's not."
"But if I'm not, then who am I?" her voice breaks.
"You're Summer." I smile, locking my eyes with her. "We're young, Summer. You don't need to think about the future right now. Live your life."
She smiles back at me and closes her eyes again. "You're good at this."
My brows frown. "What?"
"Listening to people, helping them." she whispers. "I'm glad I met you."
"Summer..." I sigh. "We can't... We're not friends, you know that, right? We're only here for..."
"The showcase." she stands up with a nod, balancing herself with her hands. God, she looks exhausted, I'm scared she's going to pass out at any moment. "Why can't we be friends?"
My heart drops to my stomach at her question. Searching for the right words, I go with the truth. "Have you seen your life? Have you seen mine? We're from two different worlds, Summer. We only met because of a school project and we're being forced to spend time together for the next two months but we– We're not friends. We can't. I don't belong in your world." I have too much baggage, I can't bring you down with me.
Her face falls at my words, her hands to go her chest like I just hurt her right there and I want to kill myself. Truly. "Why does it matter our lives?"
"How could it not? You have everything, Bennett. Loving family, loving friends, a whole life secured and I... have nothing. If I'm not at college, I'm working and if I'm not working I'm planning my future to get out of here, away from my mom, from–"
"Your mom?" she interrupts me and I mentally kick myself for not thinking before I speak. "Why would you want to stay away from your mom?"
"It doesn't matter." I say and I start to collect my things. I grab my phone and it says eleven thirty. Fuck, we've been here for hours. "I have to go. I have class tomorrow."
"So, you decided we're not friends? Just like that?" she sounds hurt and I fight the urge to hug her and tell her that I want to be her friend. I want to protect her. Call her every night. Every day. See her.
"I'm pretty sure the whole friendship thing has to work both ways, Bennett." I say, instead. "And... I'm sorry, but this relationship has an expiration date and it's December 16th."
Her eyes twinkle with tears that trigger my own. Why is this hurting? God, I know this girl for a month.
She nods, clearing her throat. "Right. Of course. I'm sorry for assuming." she searches for her key and walks me to the door. "I'll walk you out. Do you need a ride?"
"No, I'll order an Uber." I follow her once again around her house.
I notice how she walks with a hand on the wall, like she's trying not to fall to the floor. "Are you tired? I'm sorry, I didn't notice the time."
She shakes her head. "I'm okay."
Her moms are nowhere to be seen which is for the better. I don't need a reminder of who her moms are. "Let me know when you get to your dorm?"
"Why? We're not friends." I say before I can even think about it. Summer's back is to me but I notice how she freezes. I hate myself. All I do is hurt her.
"I just want to know if you're okay, Willow." her voice comes sharp, like I never heard before.
She takes a deep breath when we reach the front door, she opens it and I see my Uber driver waiting in the street. I turn around before I leave, memorizing her face. She looks so hurt, so tired, so angry at me. I want to apologize, I want to tell her that we can be friends but that would be a lie.
We cannot be friends. Summer's ankle twists and she flinches, wrinkling her nose in pain and grabbing the door with strength. My heart hurts as I walk closer to her. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
Her sad big brown eyes look into mine, filled with tears and hurt. She frowns and her puffy lips part. "Why do you care? We're not friends."
She closes the door in my face.
Touché.
I deserved that.