Toe to Toe (On Pointe Book 1) by Penelope Freed (read with me TXT) 📕

me now and gasp when I realize what it is. The official YIGP account posted a photo from last weekend’s competition, a photo of me, mid-jump, back arched, arms reaching up over head, my legs perfectly split. It’s the jump shot every ballet dancer would die for. And it’s me. On their page. Unbelieving, I read the caption, “Congratulations to Hannah O’Brian for winning the Senior Grand Prix award and a full scholarship to PSB’s summer intensive at last weekend’s Orange County Semi-Final.” There is a photo from my Aurora and my contemporary solos with it. I can’t believe this is really happening.

As I’m holding my phone a message from Trevor pops beneath it.

marvelousStanLey: Congratulations! I’m assuming this is the competition I heard about? I’m sure you were working really hard for this, it looks like you did what you set out to do.

I stare at my phone for a second, suddenly nervous. We generally just trade pictures, we haven’t really chatted much. Well, Trevor’s chatted more than me. I never know what to say, so I usually just respond with emojis. After what I saw on Tyler’s phone, I’ve been too confused about what he meant by “his girl” to do more than that. But I should answer him, it would be rude not to. Right?

Hannahbananaballerina: Thanks, that means a lot. I can’t believe you saw it before me.

I sound so lame.

marvelousStanLey: Is it totally weird that I’ve been checking to see if they had any pictures from the competition? I swear I’m not trying to be creepy. You don’t post very many pictures and I wanted to see you in action.

Is it creepy? Maybe a little. But he’s not wrong, I don’t post very much and almost never photos of myself dancing.

hannahbananaballerina: It’s a little creepy. But I’ll allow it this time.

marvelousStanLey: Thanks for the creeper pass. So how come I caught you tonight? It’s Sat night, shouldn’t you be out having fun? Isn’t there some party somewhere?

marvelousStanLey: I mean, I’m glad you’re not at a party, then I wouldn’t have gotten to chat with you.

Whoa. Is Trevor flirting with me? Am I flirting back? Olivia said he liked me, but she could have been lying just to get under my skin.

marvelousStanLey: What are you up to tonight? Got a hot date with a pair of pointe shoes?

I actually laugh out loud at this one. Wow, Trevor is a bigger dork than I remembered. But it’s kind of nice to feel on equal footing with someone for once.

Hannahbananaballerina: Nope, just me, my bed, and a movie

marvelousStanLey: Whatcha watching?

hannahbananaballerina: Promise you won’t make fun of me?

Trevor’s response is a gif of Duckie from Pretty in Pink pointing to himself mouthing “moi?”

Hannahbananaballerina: Teen Beach Movie. I know it’s dumb, but I love it anyways.

I watch those three dots wiggle as he types a response. It seems to take ages for it to finally come through. What is he writing, an essay?

marvelousStanLey: Promise not to tell Tyler, but my little sister is obsessed with that movie and makes me watch it with her all the time. I’ve probably seen it a dozen times.

This time I’m the one responding with a gif of Mack and Brady singing and dancing to “Make it Stop.” Trevor responds with a clip of the girls dancing around in pajamas, which I counter with a dude dancing on the beach with a blow up shark. Trevor sends a series of crying laughing emojis in response followed by the famous Katy Perry dancing left shark with the words “I have no idea what I’m doing” underneath it.

I burst out laughing when I get a gif of Chris Evans with the words “allow me to seduce you with my awkward self” flashing underneath it.

marvelousStanLey: Enjoy your evening with bikers and surfers. Night Hannah

Hannahbananaballerina: Night

I snuggle down into my cozy nest of blankets and press play. I’m half watching and half scrolling through my phone. On a whim, I scroll through Trevor’s Instagram account, looking to see what he posts. There’s a bunch of pictures of a dog, a goofy-looking mutt that he seems to take on a lot of runs. There are some photos of what look like track and field events and some really pretty shots of the harbor and water out in Seattle.

I switch over to scrolling through Tyler’s account, to see if there’s anything new. I don’t know why I do this, it hurts me every time I see him post a new picture of him and Olivia, and there are a lot of pictures of the two of them. But I have this irresistible need to look. It’s like a bruise, I keep poking it to see if it still hurts. The thing I would never admit out loud—I don’t know if I want it to stop hurting or not.

What would it be like to let that go? I’ve had this crush on Tyler for so long, it feels like part of me—this angsty, unrequited feeling. Who would I be if I let it go? Would I still be able to conjure up that feeling of yearning, of wanting, if he isn’t the object of that desire anymore? I’ve had it for so long, if I let it go would that space in my soul just be empty? Or would something else take its place? The fear of the unknown is what keeps me holding on. I know this pain, this particular pain is familiar and easy to live with. It’s a safe kind of pain. What if whatever takes its place is bigger and scarier?

“Hannah?” My mom sticks her head in my door. “Is Olivia supposed to be here?”

“Um, no?’ Confusion clouds my mind and I slide my laptop and phone off my lap. “I haven’t spoken to Olivia in a couple of weeks.” I say, still thoroughly confused.

“Can you talk to Dan please?” I take my mom’s phone from her outstretched hand and hold it up to my ear.

“Uh, hi Mr. Beck.” Please