Chapter 4 All She Has Is Jessie (Nina)

It was Jessie.

He climbed out of his car and waved at me from the curb with that puppy-dog smile he knew I couldn't resist.

"Hey!"

I looked at him. Then I turned and walked toward the Metrorail station.

I wasn't over it.

Jessie jogged after me and cut me off. "Nina, I'm sorry about the party. I shouldn't have invited Linda. I was wrong. Forgive me?"

"What about today, Jessie?" I stopped and turned back. My eyes burned. "Do you know you almost made me miss class?"

Jessie's face fell as it came back to him. "Sorry, the party ran late, and I drove Linda home, and by the time I got back—"

"Jessie!" I cut him off. "Linda. Linda. Linda. I'm your girlfriend. Why is she always more important than me?"

"It's just one class, Nina."

"It was a master class with Mrs. Murphy." My knuckles went white around my backpack strap. "The person I've been dying to learn from. Everyone else got personal corrections. I stood against the wall like I was being punished. Do you get that?"

This was my last year for YAGP. My last shot at the Spring Gala. And he'd turned it into a mess with one careless decision.

Jessie opened his mouth. Closed it. He saw my eyes, red-rimmed and furious, and swallowed whatever he was about to say.

Just one class.

I took a deep breath. "Forget it. I don't want to fight about Linda anymore."

"Neither do I." He was quick to agree. "You know I don't have feelings for her. We're just friends."

"That's what you think. She doesn't."

Jessie was handsome. Bright as sunshine. The kind of guy who lit up a room and a volleyball court. Girls had always circled him. And Linda was the worst of them.

"Can we not talk about Linda?" Jessie begged.

I pressed my lips together. He was the one who brought her up. He was the one who kept inviting her. Every. Single. Time.

"I promise," he said, stepping closer. "No more being late. No more forgetting. I'll drive you every day."

"You promised that last time."

"I know. I messed up. I shouldn't have let your birthday get ruined, and I definitely shouldn't have let you almost miss class." His eyes were wide and sincere. "All my fault. A hundred percent."

I looked at him. The boy who made me laugh. The boy who made me feel seen. The boy who kept making me feel invisible.

"Don't think you can just say sorry and I'll forget about it."

He knew that look. He'd seen it before. So he reached out and ruffled my hair, then—quick as a magician—pulled a small bouquet of roses from behind his back.

"What about with these?"

I took the flowers. My mouth twitched. But I didn't smile. "Not enough. I'm still really mad."

Other things I could let go. But this? This I couldn't just brush off.

"Close your eyes," Jessie said, dropping his voice to a whisper.

I hesitated. Then closed them.

Footsteps. Running away. Running back. The rustle of paper.

"Okay. Open."

I opened my eyes.

Jessie held a box. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a headpiece. Black feathers. Layered. Delicate. Stunning.

"Did you make this?" I breathed.

"Took me forever. I messed up so many times. I was going to give it to you last night, but you left early." He smiled, soft and genuine. "For the preliminaries. I know you're doing the Black Swan. Let it stand in for me. Let me be there on stage with you."

I lifted the headpiece from the box. I remembered last month—he'd been sketching something, all mysterious and excited, showing me a design with feathers.

He'd been planning this for weeks.

Maybe I should've been more understanding at the party. He'd put in so much. The surprise, the cake, the apology, the gift.

My anger cracked. Just a little.

"It's beautiful. Thank you." I finally smiled. "I'll wear it. For the competition."

Jessie looked like the weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders. "Can we get in the car now? Please?"

He opened the passenger door with a dramatic bow. I laughed—a real laugh this time—and slid into the seat. I buckled up and set the headpiece box carefully on my lap.

My parents had forgotten my birthday. But I had Jessie.

He was all I had.

And for now, that had to be enough.