HANNAH
The next morning, I headed to the studio alone. Jeremy had left early, mentioning something vague about work. I didn’t ask for details, and he didn’t offer them. The silence between us was still thick, the tension from last night clinging to me like a second skin.
I tried to shake it off during the five-hour drive, blasting music to drown out my thoughts. But the rhythm of the songs did little to distract me. My mind kept drifting back to our fight, the look in Jeremy’s eyes when I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.
When I finally arrived at the studio, Dylan greeted me with his usual enthusiasm.
“Hannah!” he called out, jogging over with a wide grin. “You made it!”
“Hey,” I said, managing a small smile.
“Where’s your shadow?” he asked, glancing behind me as if expecting Jeremy to appear out of thin air.
“He had work,” I replied shortly, heading toward the locker room to change.
Dylan followed me, his brow furrowed. “You okay? You seem... off.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, brushing past him.
Practice was grueling, as usual, but I welcomed the distraction. The intricate steps, the precise movements, the rhythm of the music—all of it gave me something to focus on.
But even as I danced, my mind refused to quiet. Every step felt heavier, every movement slower.
“Hey,” Dylan said during a break, handing me a bottle of water. “You’re not fine.”
“I told you, I’m fine,” I snapped, immediately regretting my tone.
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, first of all, ouch. Second, no, you’re not. And third, I’m not letting you leave here today until you tell me what’s going on.”
I sighed, taking a long sip of water to avoid answering.
“Is it about the guy you came with the other day?” he pressed, leaning against the wall beside me.
My grip on the water bottle tightened. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’ve been quiet all day, and that’s not like you,” he said, his voice softer now. “And because I saw the way he looked at you. And the way you looked at him.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “There’s nothing going on.”
Dylan snorted. “Sure. That’s why you’ve been dancing like you’ve got a hundred-pound weight on your shoulders. Come on, Hannah. Talk to me.”
I hesitated, staring at the floor. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is,” he said with a shrug. “But sometimes saying it out loud helps.”
I sighed, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “We kissed. Twice.”
Dylan’s eyes widened. “Whoa. Okay. That’s... unexpected.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “And now everything’s a mess. We fought, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Dylan tilted his head, studying me. “Why’d you fight?”
“Because he...” I trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “He said he cares about me. Like, really cares. And I—”
“You freaked out,” Dylan finished for me.
I glared at him. “I didn’t freak out.”
“You freaked out,” he repeated, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s okay. It happens.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know if I feel the same way.”
“Do you, though?” Dylan asked, his tone serious now.
I looked at him, my throat tightening. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” he said firmly. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“Hannah, I’ve known you for years. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst. And I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you looked at him.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It means everything,” Dylan said. “You’re scared. I get it. But running away from your feelings isn’t going to make them go away.”
I stayed silent, his words hitting uncomfortably close to home.
“Let me ask you something,” he continued. “When you think about him, does your heart race?”
I hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
“When you’re around him, do you feel safe? Like he’s the one person who really gets you?”
Another nod.
“And when he’s not there, does it feel like something’s missing?”
My chest tightened, and I looked away. “Yeah.”
Dylan smiled softly. “Then you like him, Hannah. Probably more than you’re willing to admit.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me.
“But what if it doesn’t work out?” I whispered. “What if I ruin everything?”
“Or what if it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” Dylan countered. “You’ll never know unless you try.”
I stared at him, my mind racing. Was he right? Had I been running from my feelings this whole time?
“You don’t have to figure it all out today,” he said gently. “But don’t push him away just because you’re scared. He seems like a good guy. Don’t let fear stop you from being happy.”
I nodded slowly, his words sinking in.
“Now,” Dylan said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get back to practice. And this time, try not to look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, okay?”
I managed a small smile. “Okay.”
As we returned to the studio floor, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe Dylan was right. Maybe it was time to stop running.
But the thought of facing Jeremy still made my stomach churn. I wasn’t sure I was ready. Not yet.
****