Butterflies

Chapter Seven

Hope's POV:

Chase and I walked together to a new pizzeria close to the Academy. He lets me lean on him since my legs are kinda weak. I'm surprised that Skye hasn't talked to me yet. I could've sworn I saw her.

Every once in a while Chase will whisper, "Are you doing okay?" I would nod my head every time.

We finally make it to the pizza parlor and he lets me sit down while he orders pizza.

I see Tara and Christian walk into the restaurant and I quickly put my head down, hoping they don't see me.

"Hope."

Ugh.

"Hello Tara." I said. "how are you?"

"I want to apologize for my behavior. I shouldn't have said that. And I'm very sorry." She says to me.

"It's okay." I sweetly respond. "I talked to Dr. Wiggs." She says. There it is, the sympathy. "Yeah, just a slight panic attack. No biggie! I promise." I say with a smile. "Are you okay? Like, really okay?" She asks me. "I'm really okay. I better go now. Nice chatting." And off I go.

I go up to Chase to tell him to meet me at the dormitory with the pizza. Sadly, I bump into Christian. "Hello." I say, and pass him quickly. "Hey there. See you at class tomorrow."

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Pretty soon it's morning and I'm pulling on my new teal bodysuit with my pink ballet tights. I tie my black and teal ballet skirt around my waist, grab my bag and run out the door.

I make it to the studio quite quickly and I have already started warming up my muscles when Skye walks in.

"Hope hope hope!!!!! My little hopester!!!! I heard you had a panic attack yesterday! Are you okay?" She runs over to give me a hug. "Yes I'm okay. A little shaken, but okay!" And then Tara walks in and we automatically run to the barre and get into position.

We start with the usually barre routine and then move on to pointe. My ankle seemed abnormally swollen today, but I think I'll be okay for pointe.

We have to do a sequence of movements across the floor one at a time. This girl named Lilly came from Great Britain, and she's amazing on pointe.

I'm third in line and its now my turn. I twirl across the floor, and I feel my ankle start to throb. It's one of those bad pains that you know you should sit down, but can't. I continue the steps, but feel my right knee give out, my ankle twist, and I fall on my hands. I internally scream, while scrunching my face at the pain. "You okay?" Tara asks me. "Yes! Let me restart that!"

Why in the world did I say that? I can't go on. I can't dance on this broken- no, sprained- no, twisted ankle. I just can't.