How It Feels to Fly by Kathryn Holmes

Author:Kathryn Holmes
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-04-15T07:00:00+00:00

seventeen

YASMIN FINDS ME IN THE BATHROOM THE NEXT morning. “Sam?”

I startle at her voice. I’ve gotten used to being by myself in the mornings. Getting up early so nobody will see me shower or change clothes. It’s weird to have to interact with someone before I make the choice to go downstairs.

“You have a phone call. It’s your mom.”

I meet her eyes in the mirror. “My mom? At seven thirty?”

“Yeah. She says it’s important.”

I put my makeup in my shower caddy and follow her to Dr. Lancaster’s office.

“Andrew and I are in the kitchen, if you need us,” Yasmin says. And if I wasn’t nervous before, her gentle tone of voice does it.

I pick up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Samantha. You’ve been ignoring my phone calls.”

“Mom, I—”

“I shouldn’t have to catch you by surprise first thing in the morning in order to have the privilege of speaking with my daughter.”

“I know. It’s just been so busy here, and—”

“I miss you, Samantha,” she says, softening. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“It’s nice to hear your voice too.” I have to force the words out. My chest is tight.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Well, yesterday we went to the Biltmore Estate—”

“That sounds like fun. But I meant, what kind of discussions are you and Dr. Lancaster having? Have you been given any strategies to deal with your panic? Your summer intensive starts in two weeks, you know. You need to be ready, especially since you’ll be joining a week late. All of the other girls will have a leg up.”

“I know.”

“Have you been exercising every day? And have you been improving your eating habits? I don’t want to hear any more about spaghetti and meatballs. . . .” She says that last bit in a joking way, but I know she’s completely serious.

I answer her questions. But I don’t tell her everything.

I don’t tell Mom that Dr. Lancaster and I talked about her. Or how much I’ve been thinking about the things she says to me. Or how anxious this call is making me.

I also don’t mention Andrew. Not even in the context of a random guy I might like. Mom wouldn’t approve. She didn’t like me dating Marcus, either. It may have had something to do with him asking me out while she was finalizing her divorce from Dad, but that wasn’t the only reason. She likes to remind me that boys are a distraction from what really matters. She says I’ll have plenty of time to date once I’ve joined a ballet company—which is probably not even true. I think she was a little relieved when Marcus broke up with me.

And that hurt. A lot.

When Mom starts in on ballet gossip—which of my classmates start their summer intensives today, which choreographers Miss Elise is planning to bring to our studio in the coming year, how many students my intensive accepts into the school’s year-round program annually—I can’t listen anymore.

“Mom,” I say, stopping her midsentence, “I have to go.”

“Your first session doesn’t start until eight thirty.

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