Chapter 23
Zoe
I lost myself last year, and now I’m frantically trying to find myself again. But it feels like I’m constantly chasing after something I can never reach.
—Zoe
The next three weeks pass so quickly that I can hardly keep up. The grace period is over, and our teachers pick up the pace in all our subjects. Mr. Conrad and Miss Chelsea, who teach us pointe, are almost as relentless as Francesca.
I know Francesca isn’t happy with our performance, but she hasn’t warned me again about the consequences.
I take that as a good sign. At least, I hope it’s a good sign and not just the calm before the storm.
But even though I don’t panic every time I dance with Jase anymore, it’s still not going very well, and I don’t understand why.
We’ve spent a lot of time together in the past few weeks. The more time we spend alone in the little attic studio, the safer I feel with him. With his hands on my body. His body behind mine, his breath on my skin as he gets a little closer to me every time.
Something has changed between us, but I can’t put my finger on it.
The morning after our second touch practice session, I found a note in my room.
Messily folded, as usual, slipped under my door.
A secret. Without a question. It felt different from the last time.
Then, when he asked me what had happened, I gave him an honest answer.
But I didn’t trust him with the truth. This time, he was confiding in me, and I gave him something back.
If you tell me your secrets, I’ll tell you mine.
Our game has changed, just like we have changed. And I have no idea where that’s leading.
Now it’s Saturday, and we’re meeting in the theater with the group that’s responsible for the Sleeping Beauty sets.
I’m a nervous wreck, even though there’s no reason to be.
But I slept badly and had strange dreams that made no sense but felt totally real at the same time.
I dreamed about Jase, and that threw me so far off balance that I couldn’t eat a thing in the morning.
“Here, you look like you could use some caffeine.” I turn my head at the sound of Mae’s far too cheerful, awake voice. She holds out a takeout cup, from which the heavenly smell of coffee and pumpkin pie wafts.
“You brought me a pumpkin spice latte?”
She puts the cup in my hand and drops into the chair next to me. “If I’d only gotten one for myself, you would have died with envy, and I didn’t want to be responsible for that.”
“I think I love you,” I say, taking a sip.
I immediately feel better. It’s later than usual because Francesca has an important private meeting today, so we’re left to our own devices.
But I’m still just as tired as I was this morning when I woke up from my confused dreams and couldn’t get back to sleep.
Mae tosses her auburn hair over her shoulders and sighs dramatically. “It’s impossible not to love me,” she says.
I roll my eyes, laughing, but she’s right.
It’s impossible not to love her. I think Mae is the nicest person I’ve ever met.
We’ve spent so much time together since the semester began that it almost feels as though we’ve known each other forever.
In comparison, my high school friendships with Charlotte, Amber, and Scarlett feel like a bad joke.
They never treated me like Mae does, never showed real interest in me or listened to me properly.
They never gave me the space that Mae does, like when she realizes that I’m not doing well and I don’t want to talk about it.
“Where’s the rest of our group?” She looks around. There are only a few of us in the auditorium: two boys from the junior class and a group of sophomore girls. But most of the group is missing.
I check the time on my phone, and I see a text from Caleb.
Caleb:
How are you two doing?
I turn red because I know exactly who he means by “you two.” Nothing has changed since the last time he asked me three days ago.
“You’re blushing,” Mae says unhelpfully, and my cheeks get even hotter. “Why?”
“Caleb is making comments that are uncalled for,” I say, putting the phone into my backpack again.
“About what?” She peers at me curiously.
“How is it going with Tristan, anyway?” I ask to change the subject.
Since Mae and Tristan got to know each other that evening at Caleb’s place, they’ve had a few dates, and I’m really hoping it will grow into something more.
I’m also hoping that she’ll forget about Caleb’s message.
But I should have known that changing the subject wouldn’t help.
“Pretty good. We’re meeting tonight. So, what kind of uncalled-for comments is Caleb making?” she says with a wide grin.
I’m spared having to answer because the door opens and the rest of the group finally arrives. I automatically look for Jase. His gaze meets mine, and a small smile appears on his face. My heart jumps. Every little smile from Jase, no matter how small, is a victory for me.
“Why, exactly, is nothing going on between you?” May whispers, drawing my attention away from Jase and back to her. Her eyes gleam, and I blush again. This really needs to stop.
“Because there’s no chemistry.”
“Uh-huh. Your look says otherwise.”
“You’ve got to stop assuming things. There’s nothing going on.” Except there is, and I’m starting to think I can’t ignore it anymore. Or suppress it. But regardless, it’s all too complicated to explain right now.
“You know, you can lie to yourself all you want, but I see what I see, and there’s definitely something happening.” Mae nods decisively.
“Maybe you should get your eyes checked,” I suggest dryly.
She’s about to retort when Charlotte walks to the front of the room.
I tense automatically, but I’m not surprised that she’s trying to take charge.
She always has to be the center of attention, and if she’s not on stage, she’ll find another way.
For the last few weeks, she’s basically ignored me, which only makes me more nervous.
I have a feeling she’s planning something.
Maybe I’m just paranoid. After Jase told her off the other day, she left me alone.
Maybe I’m just taking myself too seriously right now, but it all feels off.
She wants Jase as her dance partner, and Charlotte always gets what she wants.
But she doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it, and the longer I wait for her to react, the more nervous I get.
“We should—” she starts, then stops again. The door opens, and Katie hurries down the stairs.
“Sorry I’m late, I was just talking to Francesca.” She grins. “I get to torture you today. So come on, let’s get started. The fairy-tale forest won’t paint itself.”
* * *
Despite what Pearson said at his assembly, we don’t actually have that much to do with the stage design.
The concept was developed long before the semester began by a set designer and the director of the ballet.
A large part of the work is done by trained craftsmen because, as Pearson rightly pointed out, we are dancers and not visual artists.
If we were allowed to create the whole set on our own, it would probably be kind of mediocre.
So in the end, we’re responsible for the details.
But even little things need to be done properly, and after a while, my fingers are cramped from holding the brushes, and the effect of the pumpkin spice latte doesn’t last very long.
My body craves more caffeine and exercise.
I feel stiff and awkward, but there’s nothing I can do about it right now.
“Zoe! Mae!” I stop working and look up after Katie’s sharp whisper. She’s standing a few yards away and beckons us over, looking excited.
I glance at Mae in surprise, who shrugs. I put my brush down in the drip tray so no paint gets on the floor and stand up.
Mae has already gotten up and dances toward Katie with graceful steps. “What’s going on?” she asks.
“Come on.” Katie peers around to make sure no one is looking and then grabs Mae by the wrist. But none of the others are paying any attention to us.
Everyone is absorbed in their work except for Charlotte, who doesn’t want to get her hands dirty and has talked her way out of it by offering to document the process on video.
Katie tried to convince her that no one wants to see a video of us painting parts of the set in a less-than-professional way, but Charlotte insisted.
At some point, Katie gave up. She probably realized there’s no point in arguing with Charlotte.
Katie leads us backstage, past the changing rooms and the back door and around a corner, until we’re finally standing by the emergency exit.
“Tadaaa!” She lets go of Mae and spreads her arms wide.
“Katie, not to kill the vibe, but that’s a door. Why the excitement?”
Katie rolls her eyes. “Mae, you have to trust me. That’s not just any door.”
“No, it’s the emergency exit,” I add, and Katie wrinkles her nose in annoyance.
“If you keep making stupid comments, I won’t tell you the secret.”
“What secret?” May says, and Katie finally looks satisfied.
“First of all, if you tell anyone about this or tattle to a teacher or Pearson, the next few months will be hell for you. Is that clear?” She smiles at us, but it’s clear she means it. I get goose bumps, but at the same time, my heart accelerates with excitement.
“We won’t say a word,” I promise.
“Won’t tell a soul,” Mae adds, nodding.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Katie reaches for the door handle and pushes it down. It swings open completely silently. “The lock is broken,” she explains. “It has been for years. No one’s noticed it yet, or at least, it hasn’t been fixed, and the door can be opened from the outside.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mae’s voice sounds a little skeptical, but Katie grins.