16. Snacks and Panic Attacks #2
Mama’s eyes widen in shock, and I instantly regret even voicing it. The weight of my words hang heavily in the air, impossible to take back.
“Mamochka—” I start, about to apologize, but she holds up a hand.
“It’s okay,” she assures me. “I understand you want to help Eleanor—so she doesn’t end up in the same situation as Daria… but we also can’t sit here and assume every dancer is her.”
I know she’s right, yet some innate part of me still fears that Eleanor is more like Daria than I want to acknowledge. She mirrors her in almost every way, and the thought of getting too involved terrifies me. As if you aren’t involved already, my conscience reminds me.
“She’s right, Nik,” Evelyn agrees. “Until Eleanor either confides in you, or you have definitive proof, you can’t accuse her of something you don’t know.”
I slump forward, dragging my hands down my face with a ragged sigh. “I know,” I mumble.
“Just…” Evelyn begins, and for a moment, an expression of pity, or maybe sympathy, crosses across her face.
“Just be there for her, like I said. It’s kind of you to drive her home.
Keep doing that. Build a connection, but be careful—for obvious reasons.
The answers you’re looking for will come in God’s timing. ”
“I know you’re right. I’m just being impatient, I guess,” I say softly.
Mama’s lips quirk upward. “That’s because you’ve always been a fix-it man. You’ve been that way since you were a small boy.” She winks at me.
It’s true. I always want to be the one who can mend the brokenness in others.
That is, unless it pertains to me. I can read when someone is hurting, and after Daria died, it tore me apart when I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with someone else.
I was only thirteen when she took her life.
I didn’t understand her pain then, but looking at Eleanor now, it’s like staring back in time.
Only this time, I’m more equipped… or at least I think I am.
Because right now? I feel like I’m failing.
It’s like I know the answer, but I have no proof to back it up.
I stand and return the chair to its place. “I should probably head back,” I say, making my way toward the door.
“Remember, Nik—kindness in being there for her, not kindness in trying to diagnose her,” Mama reiterates, Evelyn nodding in agreement.
I tap the door twice. “You got it,” I reply, heading back to Studio B.
Ten minutes of lunch still remains when I enter, and Eleanor unexpectedly leans against the mirror, scrolling on her phone.
“Back already?” I break the silence.
She jumps slightly, her phone almost slipping from her hands. “Yeah, back already.”
I retrieve my lunch from my bag, hoping to eat quickly before the break ends. My quinoa and grilled salmon bowl sits temptingly, but when I glance at Eleanor, a pang of guilt washes over me. I rifle through my bag and find a snack I can share—a few energy bites I made a couple nights ago.
I drift toward her, extending my hand. “Hungry?”
Her head snaps up, eyes wide. “What?”
“I have an extra snack here if you want it,” I say, silently pleading for her to take it.
A vacant look settles over her eyes, and she shuts down. “Oh, um, I’m okay. I had lunch with Lily. Thank you, though.”
My hope fizzles like a balloon losing air. She’s lying, I just know it. But there’s nothing I can do right now. A wave of frustration washes over me. “If you’re sure?” I ask, one last attempt.
She nods firmly and returns to her phone.
I return to my podium, picking at my lunch in near silence.
My eyes keep drifting to her. Her golden-blonde hair looks frizzy, like it’s been unevenly cut.
Her brown eyes lack their usual spark, shadowed with deep purple circles.
Her cheeks are hollow, her skin pale, and her collarbones more pronounced than the other dancers’.
I’m helpless sitting here. Something is wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it.
The rest of rehearsal is a disaster. Eleanor stumbles over every single one of her steps.
I correct her multiple times, and I loathe every single second of it.
I don’t want to call her out. It’s clear she’s having an off day.
But what kind of coach does that make me if I don’t correct her?
Even Russell seems baffled by my casting choice, given her obvious struggle with the roles.
Once I dismiss rehearsal, I can finally take a breath.
Today feels too brutal to even dwell upon.
I silently pray for patience, asking God to guide me in how to help Eleanor without pushing too hard.
After I finish packing up the freestanding barres, Eleanor and Lily return to the studio.
They’re laughing together, so at least there’s one good thing about today.
“I’ll be right back, just gotta go to the restroom,” Eleanor says to Lily, then slips out the door.
Lily strides up to me as I pack my bag. “Rough day today, huh?” she voices, clicking her tongue.
I scoff. “No kidding.” I heave my bag over my shoulder. “Hey, earlier during lunch, did Eleanor go with you?”
Lily shakes her head. “No, she said she wasn’t feeling well. Only Dillon, Gabriel, and I went to lunch.”
Hope drains out of me. I knew she was lying. I clench my teeth and just nod silently.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Lily starts, clapping her hands together. “Am I still able to bring cupcakes for my birthday next week?” she asks with a sneaky smile.
“Yes, but I think per Kasper, they need to be store bought,” I say.
Lily’s smile crumbles. “Boo, that’s no fun.” She crosses her arms like a petulant child.
I snort. “Sorry, kiddo.”
She points a finger at me. “Don’t call me that, Nicholas.”
I hold up my hands in surrender. “You’re right, you’re about to be an old woman. Sorry.”
Lily saunters over, a smug grin plastered on her face, circling me like a shark would with its prey. Then she dramatically gasps, ruffling my hair. “Is that a gray hair?”
I whirl on her. “Absolutely not.” I pause for a second, shaking my head, and mutter under my breath, “At least I hope not.”
Lily roars with laughter.
Eleanor returns to the studio, glancing between Lily and me, clearly confused. “Did I miss something?”
Between laughs, Lily gasps out, “Nik has gray hair!” Her words came in short, wheezing bursts.
“I do not!” I protest. “I’m only thirty-three. I don’t have gray hair.”
Eleanor chuckles, and relief bubbles up in my stomach. Even if it’s at my expense, her laughter is slowly becoming one of my favorite sounds.
Lily continues chuckling. “I gotta get out of here. I have to pick up Grace from cheer practice tonight. Later, Eleanor.” She waves, grinning. “See ya, Grandpa.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I have no idea how I put up with her,” I mutter to no one in particular, snatching a stack of papers from the podium.
Eleanor giggles. “Because she’s your oldest friend?”
I hold the door open for her. “Precisely.”
I stop in front of Mama’s door, as we walk down the hallway.
“Give me one sec. I just need to drop this off for my mom,” I say, lifting a stack of paperwork Kasper asked me to deliver.
After he told her she needed to start making new costumes, Kasper had been more than a little afraid of Mama.
More than he’d ever admit. So now I got to do his dirty work.
I laugh quietly to myself. Only Kasper would be afraid of her.
Eleanor nods and waits in the hallway. Once the papers are strategically placed—because let’s be honest, the room is a wreck—we make our way down to my car.
When we settle in the car, I turn onto the main road, taking the now-familiar path to Eleanor’s apartment.
Soft music plays in the background, and the weather is surprisingly mild.
Snow will probably come soon, and the thought doesn’t appeal to me.
My mind drifts to Eleanor, the mystery she seems to carry, and the way she both draws me in and unsettles me all at once.
“It’s nice your mom works in the same building,” Eleanor voices, breaking the silence. Her soft smile catches me off guard. “I’m sure she enjoys having you around.”
I smirk. “She does. I think she finds comfort in knowing she can bully me whenever she wants.”
Eleanor laughs. Then she fiddles with her hands in her lap. “Have you two always worked in ballet?”
I keep my eyes on the road. “No. My sister and I used to dance here. My mom has always been a seamstress for various companies, but after my injury, Kasper offered me a job here and then one for my mom. Been here ever since.”
Eleanor gives a sideways glance. “Sister?”