"Casey, Honey. I'm so glad to see you, honestly."
Pushing her away, I take a moment to really look at her. She looks horrible, blood shot eyes, deathly pale skin glistening in sweat, left hand resting on an emancipated stomach "There's a butt in there somewhere isn't there Liv?" before I can fully answer her Amanda rushes past us both. "Rollins." she doesn't stop when I call her just keeps flying into the squad room and towards the elevator.
"Damn it." I mutter "Liv, I'm sorry. I'll go." Something in Casey's voice makes me stop, giving her my full attention. "Liv, I've been traveling the world as a human's rights Lawyer, I've been to London, France, Australia, Louisiana, Ireland, Italy, La. I've met so many handsome men and some incredibly gorgeous women, but no one compared to you Liv. It didn't matter if they spent thousands of dollars on me bought me the most expensive clothing or jewelry. I wasn't happy, not without you, I messed up, I'll never be able to take it back, however, I haven't stopped thinking about you, wondering how you were if you were well, safe, happy healthy or hurt. I've wanted to reach out to you so many times when I heard about Lewis, about you adopting Noah. I..."
"Didn't Casey, you didn't reach out, so why now?"
She sighs pacing back and forth blowing out tiny breaths "You know what Casey, I'm sorry, I don't have time for this, I need to find Amanda, maybe later. I'm sorry."
Rushing out of my office grabbing my cell phone, car keys where could Amanda be going? "Fin, With me now." "Copy Lieutenant." he glances at Casey who I swear has tears glistening in her eyes. Part of me aches for her, the woman I used to be in love with, the other part of me is filled with dread over Amanda's current state of mind and emotional roller-coaster. "Where can she be Fin?" I feel him squeeze my hand "It's mid-winter Olivia, I got an idea."
Gripping the door of his squad car, I let out a shaky breath as he speeds through midtown traffic. "It'll be alright Liv," "Will it?" I turn to the traffic lights their always in such control no one is supposed to go unless their green, even as crazy as traffic is in New York City they control the flow. Yellow of course "Shit." fin turns to me I'm sure he thinks I am crazy talking to a damn traffic light, the damn thing can't even tell me, yellow what does that even mean? "Relax Liv, this is Rollins we're talking about." "You didn't see her Fin, she's not alright, far from it."
"Jesus Fin! Where did you learn to drive?"
"Nascar baby, and video games! Liv the fifth floor, Rollins loves to take dance classes when she's stressed, try the Int Adv HIP-HOP FUSION."
Jumping out of the car before he's even come to a complete stop my legs burn badly as I race inside the BDC building. Past the red, white recipient desk up to the elevator my chest squeezes, tiny wheezing gasps whisper from my lungs. Damn, I need to work out more. My eyes scan the studio until I find the one where her class is. Studio 13. I spot her mid-center I can name the moves she's doing, but I can see how she's throw in herself into each move, her full attention on them, her body seems to have melted the stress away. So I wait sitting next to several women who have strollers as Fin comes in. "find her?" "Yea she's center in this class which seems to be mixed in ages seems strange to me. "They go by levels not ages dear," I glance over at one of the ladies who's rocking a fussy baby. "this is a level 4 class." my stare must give away my utter confusion because she smiles. "Level 1 is basic 1-2 years of training, Level 2 is beginners 2-5 years training, Level 3 is advanced beginner 5-8 years of training, L-4 Intermediate 8-10 years training. L-5 8-10 years, Lvl 6 s 10+ years training Pre-professional and professional."
"Fin I never even knew Amanda knew how to dance." He shrugged "It's been her outlet for years, it's one of her few that won't land her in jail." "She's amazing, look at the way she moves her body, she's almost as one with the music. If that's what you call this stuff." the women laugh beside me "Yeah, that's what they call this awful noise, if my boy wasn't so talented I'd drag his butt back to Contemporary." "Which one is your boy?" She points to the young man on Amanda's left he's barely fifteen, but he moves like he's been dancing well over forty years. "He's very talented." "He is thank you, he loves it, he wants to go Pro."
