Page 33 of Fighting Fate
Just as I'm about to get in, a laugh catches my attention.
Milli.
Her laugh, unmistakable and full of life. It stands out even in the busy parking lot.
I sling my bag into the truck and spin around, catching sight of her leaning against her white jeep, exuding a natural glow. Her strawberry blonde locks fall in gentle waves, catching the last rays of sunlight. Clad in a dance leotard of deep panther blue that hugs her form perfectly, contrasted with casual gray sweatpants, she epitomizes an effortless mix of athletic grace. Laughing with some guy, her eyes light up, brimming with happiness.
Who the hell is he?
Jealousy sparks inside me as I watch Milli, curious how he elicited such an authentic laugh from her. Another sharp pang of pain hits, momentarily clouding my sight. I shake my head in an attempt to dispel the haze. The thought nags at me, whether this will be a recurring theme of my senior year: standing by as Milli captures the interest of guys across campus.
It's nothing, Miles.
But it doesn't feel like nothing at all.
I start a mental countdown from five, a technique I picked up during my cancer treatment in the hospital. I remember Kins, my nurse, always encouraging me through the pain.
"Miles!" she would call out, her face struggling to mask her worry with a smile. I could see her efforts to stay strong for me, just as I tried to be strong in return.
I take a deep breath, recalling her words. "When you feel pain, try this technique."
I had listened intently, a seven-year-old desperate for any relief. My dad was often busy with football, and my mom, though trying to be supportive, was occupied with her real estate dealings. Kins was a constant presence, understanding and patient.
"Pinch your thumb and pointer finger together, close your eyes gently, as if you're settling into a peaceful sleep," she had instructed. "Then breathe deeply in and out, counting down from five. Do it five times. It'll help you focus and shift your mind away from the pain."
I had nodded, eager for any respite from the agony.
It's a method I've relied on ever since, and it's always brought some relief. Like now.
5, I inhale deeply and exhale slowly. 4, I focus on my breathing. 3, the world around me starts to fade. 2, my mind begins to clear. 1, the final breath brings a moment of calm.
As I walk toward Milli, I try to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside me. With each step closer, a blend of eager anticipation takes hold. I'm determined to keep my composure, but being near her stirs a storm of feelings that's sometimes hard to contain.
Get a grip, Chasen. You can't afford to mess this up.
Mills.
Luke's sister.
Remember, just best friends.
With a mental switch to "best friend mode," I approach her Jeep, greeting her casually, "Hey."
"Hey, stranger," Milli responds, her laughter lingering from whatever the guy beside her just said.
It irks me more than I care to admit.
"So, who's this?" I ask, nodding toward the guy. His expression tightens at my choice of words, as if I've slighted him. It's not like I know his name.
Milli catches the edge in my tone and the way I'm eyeing him, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. I've never been territorial like this. But she quickly hides any sign of discomfort, her face lighting up again. "Oh, this is my dance partner for the year," she explains.
Oh, so this is the "partner" she mentioned to me and Luke. He's a guy? I don't have much time to ponder over it though, as Milli's enthusiasm is unmistakable while she discusses their routine for the home game. Despite her excitement, she seems to be holding back some details, probably out of politeness.
"Hey," I reply, struggling to sound welcoming, but I can't shake off a sense of envy. This guy gets to be close to Milli—touch her—all under the guise of dance.
Why am I even bothered? It's not like she's mine.
He offers his hand, and after a moment, I shake it. "You're Miles Chasen, right?"