Page 65 of Movers and Fakers

Hayes Rosewood

Aurora stares at me from across the table, her blue eyes shimmering with mirth. We’re surrounded by her friends and family—having dinner after her recital—but the way she’s looking at me makes me feel like we’re the only two people in her parents’ house.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

“How absolutely ridiculous you look in that shirt.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you wore it.”

I grin and pull on the fabric. “What kind of boyfriend doesn’t support his girlfriend?”

Aurora rolls her eyes.

“You can support me without wearing a shirt with my face on it.”

“So you don’t want me to wear it to class next week?”

Her eyes narrow. “It would be the last thing you do.”

A laugh bursts out of me.

“At least I’d go out with flair.”

Aurora’s mom stops by our end of the long folding table they replaced their smaller dining table with. It’s covered by a pink plastic tablecloth with ballet slippers printed all over it. Our plates are pink, too, as are the cups and napkins. It makes me happy every time I take a bite of pizza or a sip of sweet tea, knowing that Aurora has people in her life who pay attention. She may hate parties, but I know she’s enjoying herself tonight.

“What are you two talking about?” she asks as she refills our sweet teas from a plastic pitcher.

My mom would be six feet under before she served anyone like this, much less used plastic dishware at a party. But the food tonight tastes better than any meal my family has catered, and I’ve never felt more at home than when Andrea smiles down at us.

“Aurora was just telling me how she wants to get a shirt with my face on it so that we can have coordinating ones to wear to class,” I answer with a wide smile.

Aurora balls up a napkin and throws it at me, while Andrea laughs. The crumpled paper hits my cheek, then falls onto the pizza crust left on my plate.

“You’re better with napkins than you are gloves,” I tease Aurora, and Andrea’s eyebrows rise.

“Gloves?” Andrea questions.

“I took Aurora to Haymakers the other day and tried to teach her some things.”

“Emphasis on try,” Aurora says dryly. “He found out why Eric is the boxing prodigy of the family.”

Andrea laughs. “Our Rory pretends to be a fighter, but deep down she’s a lover at heart.”

She bends down and hugs Aurora with one arm, pressing a kiss to the bun on her head. Aurora crinkles her nose.

“You should take your hair down, sweetie, before you end up with a headache,” Andrea says with a frown as she notices Aurora’s hair is still up.

Though she changed into sweats, her hair and makeup are still intact, except for her berry lipstick, which faded while we were eating.

“Yeah, I probably should.” Aurora sighs as she pushes up from the table. “See you in a decade,” she grumbles, and I chuckle.

“Does it really take that long?”

Andrea’s eyes widen and she nods.

“The amount of hair pins it takes to keep hair in place during a performance is insane,” Jasmine chimes in from down the table. “She’ll be gone for a little while.”

Aurora rounds the corner toward her bedroom.

Saylor smiles, and it looks a touch maniacal. “Which gives us ample time to interview you.”