What A Lie Looks Like | ✓

1.23: sephine

"Should you be here? I mean, it's okay to miss a day or two-" I try to offer, and he shakes his head immediately.

"I'm fine, really. I just don't like talking about my dad, and I don't want to talk about what happened yesterday either because I'm trying to put it behind me."

I pull my hand out of his and step quickly in front of Hayes, stopping him in his tracks. The platform Louboutins I'm wearing give me the height I need to press my lips to his to distract him from all the shit happening. It's a short kiss, but it hopefully does its job. "I'm sorry," I immediately say, taking a step back from him. This is the part where I say that Cam told me everything. If he's trying to put it behind him, maybe it's best that I don't. I said I didn't want to be in the middle.

"For what?" His head tilts, causing a section of his hair to fall in his face, and I avoid the urge to run my hands through the soft locks.

I bite my lip and look down at my shoes that cover up the bruises left by my pointe shoes, "Nothing, I'll see you later?"

It appears that he has something else in mind to say, but Hayes adjusts the strap of his backpack instead, "Yeah."

*********

There's a layer of sweat completely covering every part of my body as I sit on the floor exhausted. Ms. Peterson had let Carter go home two hours ago, but she made me stay to do the work that I would have put in yesterday.

"Again." She claps, sitting in her chair and holding the remote with the intention of starting the music again.

I glare at her as I breathe heavily, "We've been doing this for almost five hours now."

I have to give Ms. Peterson credit as she gives me the same look back, "Do you want to know who called me yesterday while you were skipping rehearsal?" I don't have the energy to give her a response, so she just continues, "The English National Ballet. I have a friend that I studied with when I was in high school who is now a repetiteur there, and I sent her the link to your last performance and your pedigree."

"What?"

"She was impressed enough that she showed it to the director, who agreed that you're very talented. They'd like to set up an interview soon, and since my friend is coming back during a break in their season, she's agreed to come and do a personal audition."

"Are you being serious?"

Ms. Peterson still isn't smiling, "I explained that you're preparing a version of Esmeralda for the next competition to qualify you for nationals. She explained that if you perform like you did last year, you have an excellent chance of being offered a contract for the next season. I don't think I need to tell you how rare it is to get offered a contract while you are still in high school."

A smile has spread across my face because knowing that I might get a chance at what some dancers spend years trying to achieve is the best news I've gotten in a long time. It might not be the Sydney Dance Company or Opéra national du Rhin, but it's a massive step in the right direction. "Thank you so much. I don't even know what to say."

Peterson looks me dead in the eye, "I know you're young, but if you ever skip another rehearsal, I will call and tell them not to come. A dancer that lets her personal life affect her career does not belong in a company." Her eyes soften, and a smile starts to form on her face. "Now, get up and go through the variation again."

I push myself off the floor and resume the starting position without saying another word. My last bit of energy goes into this variation while I practically beg my feet not to give out underneath me in hopes that I'll be allowed to stop after this one.