So You Think You Can Dance?

Final Four

So, here we are ... starting a new story. I'm dreaming that it's summer time and the favorite thing about summer time, besides the longer days and warmer weather is the return of my favorite show, So You Think You Can Dance? I love it ... the beauty, artistry and athleticism is amazing. Plus, the music they play? Damn ... makes me happy.

Up next will be the performance finale. I have to find the dances for our finalists. That'll be my homework tonight. We have the performance finale, the results show and Bella finally letting her walls come tumbling down (citrusy goodness, if you know what I mean).

Chapter Twenty: Final Four

BPOV

"It's not allowed, Edward. You shouldn't be here!"

I groaned, covering my head with my pillow, grating my teeth as Alice's obnoxious voice filtered into my room. "You're breaking the rules! I'm calling Alistair."

"Put a fork in it, Alice," Edward snapped. "Alistair knows I'm here; so does Carmen. This tattling bullshit is completely elementary and uncalled for. Because of your 'unintentional' slip, Bella's knee was jacked up and her wrist is sprained. Carmen gave me the thumbs to take her home and spend the night."

"Bella gets preferential treatment because she's the judge's darling," Alice sneered. "It's unfair!"

"Says the girl who is in the final four," Edward barked back. "Go back to your room and worship the devil, you wretched little snot. Bella's still sleeping and shouldn't be disturbed. We got back from the ER late." Alice huffed, stomping away and her feet heavily running down the stairs. I heard my door open and Edward slipped in.

"I'm awake," I said, rolling out from underneath my cocoon of blankets. He pouted, walking to me and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Alice's shrill bark could wake the dead. Besides, I had to pee." I sat up, grimacing at every aching muscle. My wrist was swollen and discolored, but didn't feel too badly. My knee, though, was in agony. I tested it timidly, whimpering with each movement.

"Do you need a pain killer?" Edward asked.

"Let me see if I can put weight on it," I sighed, swinging my feet over the side of the bed. Edward stood in front of me, holding his palms out in front of him. I grasped them and let him gently help me to my feet. I balanced on my right foot and gingerly placed the left on the ground. It hissed, but it wasn't too bad. I took a few tentative steps, becoming more confident as I crossed my bedroom. "I'm okay, but two more ibuprofen wouldn't be bad. I'm going to shower and see if that loosens me up."

"I'll wait until you get into the shower," Edward said, arching a brow. "In case you fall."

"You are overprotective," I quipped, picking up a fresh towel from the linen closet.

"I'm not ... just concerned," he snorted, giving me a wry little grin. "Go shower, angel. I'll bring up some breakfast along with your meds." I nodded and slipped into the bathroom. Much to Edward's dismay, I managed to get into the shower without incident and spent forty-five minutes washing off the grime of rehearsing and the hospital away. I felt much better after I was clean and I dressed casually, knowing that I'd be in a slew of costume changes tonight for the performance finale.

Edward was waiting for me in my room with Jacob and Jasper. They were talking on Jacob's phone, using FaceTime. I heard Rose's voice. "Oh, is she riled up?" I asked.

"Isabella Marie Swan!" Rose growled. "Put her on the phone, damn it. I need to kick her ass."

"Please don't kick my ass," I snickered, taking Jacob's phone. "I'm injured enough."