Chapter 14 #2
I forced a smile. It felt like a mask made of lead.
"Good. Exhausting."
I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
He put the book down. He reached out and took my hand.
"You okay?" he asked, frowning. "Your hands are cold."
"Just... tired."
"Come here."
He pulled me down onto the bed next to him. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest.
I buried my face in his t-shirt. He smelled like cedar and safety.
"Ben?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life," he said instantly. "Why?"
"Nothing. Just... checking."
I closed my eyes.
I was lying to him. By omission. I was keeping a secret that was eating me alive.
"I love you," I whispered.
"I love you too," he kissed the top of my head. "You're acting weird. Did something happen?"
"No," I lied. "Just... thinking about the future."
"The future is good," he assured me. "Showcase is in two weeks. Playoffs start next week. We're going to crush it."
"Yeah," I said hollowly. "We're going to crush it."
He didn't know I wasn't going to be in the showcase. He didn't know I was about to quit.
I'm doing this for you, I told myself. It's a noble lie.
But it didn't feel noble. It felt like betrayal.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I ignored it.
It buzzed again.
I pulled it out, shielding the screen from Ben.
Text from Dad: Dinner was productive. Mr. Davids is... open to persuasion. But he needs assurance that Ben is focused. Keep him in line, Ivy. Or I stop paying the rent on that apartment you think I don't know about.
My blood froze.
My dad knew about the apartment. Of course he did. He knew everything.
And now he was negotiating Ben’s career over dinner.
"Who's texting you?" Ben asked sleepily.
"Just... spam," I said, shoving the phone back in my pocket.
"Ignore it. Go to sleep."
He tightened his arms around me.
I lay there in the dark, staring at the skylight.
I was trapped. Lila on one side. My father on the other. Both of them holding guns to Ben’s head.
And Ben? He was sleeping peacefully, thinking we were invincible.
I realized then that we weren't a team anymore. I was a shield. And shields got battered.
I had to protect him. No matter the cost.
The Next Day
I walked into Madame K’s office.
It was Thursday morning. The deadline to withdraw from the solo selection was Friday at noon.
Madame K was sitting at her desk, reviewing schedules. She looked up over her glasses.
"St. James. You're early. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I took a deep breath. My hands were shaking. I clasped them behind my back.
"I... I need to talk to you about the Black Swan solo."
"Yes? You're the frontrunner, Ivy. Your technique is impeccable. Unless you've decided to run away and join the circus?"
"I... I want to withdraw my name from consideration."
Madame K dropped her pen.
Silence filled the small office.
"Excuse me?"
"I want to withdraw," I repeated, my voice trembling. "My ankle... it's not healing as fast as I thought. I don't think I can handle the workload of the solo."
It was a lie. My ankle was fine. Ben had fixed it.
Madame K stood up. She walked around the desk and leaned against it, crossing her arms.
"Ivy. I have been teaching for thirty years. I know when a dancer is injured. And I know when a dancer is scared."
She peered at me.
"You danced yesterday. You were flawless. Your ankle held. This isn't physical."
"It is," I insisted. "It hurts. I can't do it."
"Is it the boy?" she asked sharply.
I flinched.
"The hockey player," she clarified. "Is he asking you to quit? Is he jealous?"
"No!" I said quickly. "Ben would never... he supports me. This is my decision."
"It's a stupid decision," she said bluntly. "You are the best dancer in this program. If you quit now, you are throwing away your shot. The scouts won't look at the chorus line, Ivy. They look at the soloist."
"I know."
"And you're willing to give that up? For an ankle that isn't broken?"
"Yes," I whispered. "I have to."
Madame K studied me for a long, agonizing minute. She saw the desperation in my eyes. She saw the fear.
She sighed.
"Fine. If you want to throw your career away, I can't stop you. I'll put Lila in the slot."
The name tasted like bile.
"Thank you, Madame."
"Get out of my office, St. James. I can't look at you."
I turned and walked out.
I made it to the hallway before my knees gave out. I slid down the wall, clutching my chest. I couldn't breathe.
I had done it. I had saved Ben.
But I had lost myself.
"Ivy?"
I looked up through my tears.
Standing at the end of the hallway was Ben.
He was holding a bouquet of flowers. Cheap, grocery store daisies. He was wearing his jersey. He looked confused. And worried.
"What are you doing here?" I choked out.
"I came to surprise you," he said, walking toward me. "I had a break between classes. Why are you crying? Is it the ankle?"
I scrambled up, wiping my face.
"No. Just... allergies. Dust."
He didn't buy it. He dropped the flowers and grabbed my shoulders.
"Ivy. What happened?"
"Nothing!" I pushed him away. "I just... I had a bad meeting. It's fine."
"With Madame K? Did she cut you?"
"No. I... I just..."
I couldn't tell him.
"I have to go," I said, grabbing my bag. "I have a class."
"Ivy, wait!"
I ran.
I ran down the hallway, away from the man I loved, away from the dream I had just killed.
I heard him calling my name.
“Ivy!”
But I didn't stop. Because if I stopped, I would tell him. And if I told him, he would fix it. And fixing it would destroy him.
So I kept running.
And I prayed that the love I felt was enough to fill the hole I had just ripped in my own soul.