Lights
Delores
The ache that comes from holding a plié past the point of no return is zinging through me as I make my way out of my rehearsal studio.
My gym bag is slung over one shoulder, and I have my toe shoes dangling over my shoulder to air out.
The echo of early morning practice and then my work in the studio is in every tendon and ligament; my whole body screams for rest, and though I’m listening, I’m only half-way through day one of the nightmare that is my junior year schedule.
Moving down the corridor with mirrored walls on both sides, I note the floor is still slippery from the cleaning.
Dangerous, especially on the dance floor, and I walk carefully until the door at the far end flies open.
Fitz is here, waiting like the world’s most attentive stalker.
He’s still looking crazy with his hoodie unzipped, hair somewhere between genius and human lightning rod, and his laptop bag slung across his chest. He falls into step beside me, grinning madly as he wraps an arm around my waist.
“See, Baby Girl? You made it through the bad shit earlier, and the rest of the day has been pretty quiet. I told you it would be okay.”
I nod, blow my hair off my forehead, and will the sting of sweat out of my eyes. “Barely, but I’m pretty sure that’s because Raina brought a crossbow. That woman is a treasure, Fitz. We can’t let anyone fuck with her or the crew… ever.”
“I’m pretty sure Emo Boy makes sure of that already.” He squeezes me close, dropping a kiss on the crown of my head as we move to the elevator. “People probably harass them occasionally, though, because rich kids are assholes. I should know.”
I laugh as he bobs his brows and then shake my head.
“They don’t do it in the presence of live witnesses, or Rennie would make sure they suffered,” I say firmly.
“But you’re right, Rockland mostly behaved today, though she gave me the look.
You know the one—like she’s picturing me as a small, defenseless rodent she can snatch up in her claws, eventually.
But Raina kept smiling and clicking the safety off the crossbow. It was very soothing.”
Fitz’s lips twitch, but he’s distracted, already toggling through mental tabs.
“Good. Hopefully, the bitch won’t try anything for a while if the Captain’s crew rotates on the schedule.
The assignment order is random, so she can’t predict it, and it will keep her off-balance.
That’s what my bro said, at least. But I’m keeping tabs on things; you don’t have to worry. ”
I can’t tell if he means the rainbow-dyed circus clown or someone else on his mental shit list that he’s planning revenge on.
With Fitz, it could be both, or another unstated target that he’s latched onto in his manic state.
He’s deep into an ADHD manic swing since Rockland came at me, and unlike everyone else, I let him do what he needs to in order to re-surface without making a big deal about it.
My tiger is brilliant in so many ways, and his creativity is highest when he’s off-the-charts, so he can cook all he wants as long as he’s not hurting himself.
We all need space to be ourselves, even the least palatable version, without being forced into a box.
The quad is thick with students converging after lunch when we get out of the Shird.
The new ones are leaking anxiety and tension into the air like an oil spill.
For a brief second, I remember what it was like to be one of them—a new face, trying to figure out if you could get from one end of campus to the other without being noticed by predators with a thirst for freshman meat.
It feels like a different universe, even though it’s only been three years.
Luckily for these newbies, they aren’t being targeted as food; that adds a completely different dimension to the entire experience.
Fitzy keeps himself between me and the oncoming foot traffic.
It’s not obvious—he’s mastered the art of running interference without appearing overbearing—but any time there’s a potential collision, he angles his body so I’m not close to the other preds.
I want to scold him for it, but I also kinda never want him to stop.
My fiercely independent brain and my lady bits are conflicted when the guys are like this, and I bet that also will never end.
We’re nearing the entrance to the building where my private piano is hosted this year when he launches into a rant. “Your next class is Piano with the whale again. Was she okay during voice? I didn’t get to see you afterward because the skunk picked you up while I was in the lab.”
“She likes to demonstrate vibrato by holding a B-flat for a stupid amount of time. It eats up my time and pisses me off, but she didn’t act like a jerk because I’m me.
It’s because she’s a snooty ex-star or whatever and she got shipped here.
” I frown, tilting my head. “Do we know why an Alexandré was exiled despite her big opera career?”
He grins, snarky and unrepentant. “I’m looking into the teachers for this year, but my algorithms have found nothing new yet on the repeat ones like her.
It’s weird, because a lot of the preds forced to teach have pretty well-known scandals that got them exiled.
Obviously, everyone in our family, and Zhenga…
plus Henny. Man, I hope she’s okay at Cappie.
The woman isn’t really a friend, but she’s not entirely bad, either.
Anyway, the ones here seem to have murkier pasts. It’s weird.”
Of course they do… whoever hid this shit learned their lesson after I was at Cappie and Apex.
“Keep on it, I guess. I don’t have your cousin until Friday, but at least I know he’s dangerous,” I sigh as we open the doors to go in. “And anyone I had last semester, I know how to handle unless they’ve been enticed to change up their shit. The new people make my ass twitch.”
“Damn! I gotta get on that,” Fitz replies as we head inside. His eyes dance merrily as he clucks his tongue. “Only our family is allowed to make your luscious booty do anything, Baby Girl. The others will back me up on that without a doubt.”
I give him a fond, yet frustrated expression as we walk through the lobby to the stairs. “That is not what I meant, and you know it, buster. We don’t have time for flirty stuff; I’ll be late to this class and the woman will torture me with her damn B-flat again to be contrary.”
Guiding me with one hand, Fitz leads me down to the lowest level while walking backwards and holding my hand.
By the time we get to the bottom, my feet still ache, but my crazy tiger has cracked jokes and made me smile enough that my spirits are lifted.
He walks me to the door marked ‘Piano One’ in a hallway full of doors with instruments and numbers listed for the various practice areas.
“Ready to play your heart out?” he says as he brushes my hair off my forehead.
“I’m sure Emo Boy will love hearing whatever you are practicing later.
Chessie told me there are like fifty boxes being checked by the Captain personally, and one of them might be the fancy keyboard you’re gonna use to practice in the annex versus leaving. ”
I grimace, remembering how nice it was to have the beautiful piano next door at Cappie and even the nice ones in the Shird I could use instead of electronic shit if I didn’t have a flotilla of assholes stalking me. “Yeah, he will, even if he complains about how much better the real thing sounds.”
“Ah, Dolly, my mate… You forget the Frenchman is never more happy than when he can complain about some snooty-ass thing he has up his ass. That will only make it sweeter for him.” Fitz winks and I giggle at the accuracy.
Leaning in, I kiss him lightly, ruffling his curly, wild mane of hair. “You’re right. Rennie and Aubrey adore when they get to pull the grumpy, old, rich fart card. It will be perfect. Now, shoo, because I have to go in and pray that I’m not subjected to an hour of whale songs.”
“If only, Baby Girl,”
As he leaves, I turn and open the door, resigning myself to my fate as I head inside.
Just another lovely trial to endure in the never-ending torture of Delores Drew—luckily, I’m used to it.
When the class ends, Banjo is already waiting for me outside the door. He leans against the wall in his new uniform, smiling happily like the quokka he is.
“Hello, Queen Dolly,” he says, giving me a salute. “Are you ready for your next class? How is your day going? Has everything been calm?”
I blink, adjusting the gym bag on my shoulder as he rapid-fires questions. “Hi, Banjo. I guess you’re stuck taking me to Theater History, huh?”
Nodding, the little prey animal follows me as I walk toward the stairs.
“I am next on the rotation, yes. Your class is in the Shird with Bisonette, I’m told.
I’ll get you there and make sure you are inside, but remember that if you use the app Prince Fitz made for His Honor Mr. Farley, someone will be at your side tout suite. ”
Arching a brow, I look at him. “Is Rennie teaching you guys French again?”
“Oui!” The quokka leads me up the last few stairs and into the lobby. “But the Glorious Gargoyle says it is because Percy is continuing to teach your family sign language. He says it is a fair trade for such things, and the Captain does not want to argue with him. Oh, dear.”
“Don’t worry, Banjo; I won’t rat you out for admitting the Captain believes you owe him because he’s kept you guys protected.
” My lips quirk as we walk out of the building onto the quad again.
“But that’s because I’m really psyched to learn from Percy, and he’s working on my French, too, which means we can all practice both on the walks sometimes. ”