lovestruck † hs

Chapter 50

He furrows his brows. "Why didn't you tell me anything? You've dealt with her mistreating you alone; I could have helped you more, taken this off your mind."

I open my mouth to speak, then shut it, trying to find the words to say. "I'm sorry, I guess I should have." Telling Harry would help me gain support, which would really just build up my confidence, which I really need. Plus, I know Harry likes to know what I'm going through and thinking, but he also understands I'm not easy to break through. Obviously so, considering I've got a whole dark past thing I'm hiding here.

"You know I'm here for you, love." Harry wipes a tear that escapes, then tucks the loose hairs of my small pony tail behind my ear.

"I do," I admit, his words striking me with guilt of how much he really doesn't know about me, all that's underneath the surface.

"How long has this been going on exactly?"

I zip up my jacket, the cold air finally getting through to me. Harry must notice, because he steps in front of where the wind is blowing to shield me, his thick coat enough to keep him warm from the chilly night air. "It's been going on for about the past week or so, maybe more. I feel like I'm failing her, the rest of the girls, and myself. What if I'm really doing worse than I think? Miss Wendy could be right, what if I'm not good enough—"

Harry shushes me by placing a single finger over my lips. I meet his jade, trusting eyes which sparkle at me.

"Do not say that, or even think it. You are the best ballet dancer I know. A hell of a lot better than me, baby," his words drift off into a chuckle, and I can't help but laugh as well, images of Harry doing a pirouette settling in my thoughts.

"Although I now need to see you dancing for my own pleasure, I'm still worried about this. I can't help feeling this way."

"I get that, but I just wish you didn't. You truly are a great dancer. Maybe something is going on in her life, and she just is choosing to take it out on you? It's a wrong choice, but a possibility," Harry suggests.

I hate this, not knowing why someone is angry with me, when I don't even know of anything I could have possibly done to them.  "I don't know...I just really don't need this now. I have so much already on my plate to worry about."

"I understand, I wish this wasn't happening to you," Harry sighs. He stays quiet for a moment, and I begin to wonder what's going through his mind but he speaks. "We can head home, but first I need to use the restroom here."

I nod, "Okay, can I please wait in the car? I'm freezing and do not want to go back in there. The bathrooms are straight down, first door on the left."

Harry digs in his pocket for his keys, lends them to me, and heads inside. As I walk to the car, I ponder, why couldn't he just wait like a ten minute or so drive to his place for the bathroom?

Harry's POV

I step into the dark studio, all the lights off and no one here but Rach, myself, and her instructor. I think back on to when I was banned here, I had dropped a whole rack of chairs as I admired Rachel dancing, astonished at her beauty. How could someone think she was disappointing? She did so well when I saw her, and every time she's pulled me to my couch and sat me down to show me her routine, her excitement to present her beauty and interest to me makes me so much more proud of her. I get it, I don't know much about dancing, but she is truly great at it. After all, she's done it for years.

So what the hell is her teacher's problem? That's what I've come in here to find out.

Instead of using the restroom, I sneak through the hallway and find the room I'm positive is where Rachel practices. I know I lied about going to the bathroom, but talking and reasoning with her teacher shouldn't get anyone into trouble. Rightfully so, Miss Wendy is packing her things when I walk in.