Page 4 of Last Boy
Because he is. Only way cooler.
As I walk out of his apartment building, I pass one of his neighbors, a girl who seems to stop in and visit him quite a bit since he moved in.
“Hi, Poppy,” she says, holding her hand up.
“Hi, Bonnie!” I wave but keep moving.
Bonnie is a sweetheart, but my Lord, she loves to chat. Most days, I stop and talk for as long as she wants to. Today, I’m too short on time.
Bonnie and my brother actually both started off in the same housing situation shortly after my father was taken to prison. Jake’s plan was always to gain enough independence to live alone. But he wasn’t ready for that until recently. So, a few years ago, he ended up living in a house with other men and women who, like him, had Down syndrome. Not everyone in the home had the ability or wanted to leave there, but Bonnie and my brother wanted help getting ready to live on their own. Now, someone from the home visits them once a day to make sure all is good, but aside from that, they have their freedom. And they both have jobs.
Jake started working as a janitor at a local health clinic a year ago and absolutely loves it. He gets to see people and be social, and most of all, he’s a very hard worker.
Walking along until I reach the bus stop, I sit on the bench next to an older man and wait for the bus.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He smiles.
“It sure is,” I say back.
And it really is. The sun is shining, and it’s in the seventies, the absolute perfect temperature.
But now, I have to go to dance and listen to Jolene, my dance coach, fawn all over our newest dancer, Sutton Savage.
Her father is the senator of Tennessee. She left Juilliard to come here. Juilliard. My freaking dream school that I couldn’t even bother to apply to because I knew it was so out of reach.
So, even though the girl hasn’t personally done anything to me, she rubs me the wrong way.
And that right there is enough to cloud this gorgeous day.
“Gorgeous, Sutton,” Jolene gushes, watching my new nemesis dance across the floor. “Way to extend those legs and point those feet.” Looking around the room, Jolene gives us a less enthused look. “Good work today, everyone. Cool down a bit, and then you’re free to go.”
Sutton’s a good dancer. It’s true. I mean, for the love of God, she transferred here from Juilliard. She should be good. No, great.
Which she is. Even though I want to roll my eyes, even thinking it, she is extremely talented and has an amazing technique.
But for the months before she arrived here, the other dancers and I had been working hard. I was deemed Jolene’s number one dancer from week one. And as a freshman, I felt pretty great. But then she showed up and dimmed my shine with all of her damn blinding, annoying sparkle.
What’s worse is that we’re stuck being roommates too. Thank God Ryann and Lana live there with us. There’s no way I could live alone with Sutton without feeling the urge to put a laxative in her coffee.
A part of me wishes I hadn’t been offered to skip the mandatory freshman year in a dorm because then I wouldn’t have to go home to my rival every night of my life and watch her gloat that she’s the top dog.
All right, fine. She doesn’t really gloat, but I still find her infuriating. With her perfect bun when my hair always has random frizzy pieces everywhere. And her extremely straight legs, like it’s just second nature to stretch them like that.
Sutton Savage is everything I’m not. Nor will I ever be. She comes from a rich family. And I’m sure she’s always gotten everything she wanted. I grew up with charity dance lessons and hand-me-down ballet slippers. There were no fancy dance camps or incredible choreographers for me. But I’ve always made do with what I was given. But I still wonder, if I had more opportunities or if my upbringing were different than it was…would I be at Juilliard right now?
What irks me most about her is that she walked away from Juilliard to be here. At Brooks. While our school is Division 1, our dance program certainly isn’t the best in the country—unlike our football and hockey programs.
She gave that up. Something that I’ve wanted my entire life, but knew I could never have. Not just because I don’t have the proper training, but also because I’ve never wanted to leave Jake or Van behind. After all, we’re all each other has.
Whenever my dancer friends bitch and complain that their parents push them to be perfect, I usually go along with it, too, saying that my parents have been the force behind my hunger to be the best. Truthfully, they have been part of my reasoning for trying so hard. But it’s not because they’ve pushed me, but because I want more for my life than what I saw while growing up.
I finish my cooldown and head toward my bag in the corner of the room. As I start to pull my ballet slippers off, I look up to see Jolene and Sutton chatting. Jolene’s entire face lights up as she hangs on every word that flows from Sutton’s lips.
“Bitch, your ears are smoking,” Ryann mutters, appearing next to me. “She’s not a bad person, you know.”
“Yeah, all right.” I shove my shoes in my bag, slide my knockoff Birkenstocks onto my feet, and stand. “Sorry, Ry. Princesses just aren’t my type of friends.”
She tosses her head back and laughs. “She is so not a princess. In fact, I’m much more princess status than that chick.” She steps closer, sighing. “She’s way nicer than you think. And her life isn’t perfect either.”