That Night in August: Chapter One
---
August 31st
C A R M E N
A smile tugs at my glossed lips as I glide across the ground below, my feet carrying my body as I perform the routine I choreographed for my students. Adolescent gasps echo within the studio as I leap into the air and land on the floor, before assuming the finishing pose as the upbeat music comes to a stop.
My young students clap and cheer for me as I bow. "That was amazing, Miss Ellis!" One cheers, her orange pigtails with cute pink bows securing the ends swaying as she bounces up and down in her seated position.
"Thank you," I reply. "We'll make a start on learning this new routine in our next session. That's it for today. Please get your things and wait in a line for your parents to collect you," I command.
A few disappointed sighs sound—a common occurrence, given how much my dance class enjoys our sessions—but the young children still clamber to their feet and make a move to grab their belongings.
"Great work today, Carmen," a voice says from beside me. "That routine will be something special at junior championships this year."
I look away from the kids, who are now wrestling into their jackets and snatching their small rucksacks from the multicoloured coat hooks on the wall, and meet eyes with my boss, Mindy. "Thanks, Mind. It's a great routine, even if I say so myself." I say with a smirk. As captain of the most prestigious dance team at my college, I consider myself to be quite the expert in choreographing routines.
I don't need the job at the dance school, truthfully. With my father being the hotshot CEO of Ellis Jewellers and my mother a reputable politician, their money more than allows me to live a lavish life. But I continue to work here. Helping this group of children dance to the best of their abilities and producing a group of even more winners fills me with immense satisfaction. And so does helping Mindy.
"Indeed. I'm sure the kids are looking forward to learning it." She grins, the motion causing the wrinkles on her face to become more noticeable.
"Speaking of kids," I say as I turn to face the wall-length mirror behind us, neatening up my high ponytail. "Any updates?"
Mindy adores children, which is the main reason she opened a dance school for young children in the area. She married some asshole who she thought was the love of her life two years ago at the age of thirty-nine, and everything seemed perfect. They bought a house together. They turned the spare room into a nursery and began trying for their first child soon after.
Month after month went by, and my boss never fell pregnant. I remember the discussions we had during my shifts at the dance school—the way she tearfully told me that no amount of folic acid and cycle tracking was helping her and her husband conceive, and how something must be wrong with her. She and her husband went to the doctors, underwent extensive testing, only to be told the news they feared most.
That Mindy was very unlikely to have biological children. Ever.
Mindy became a shell of herself. Her doctor signed her off from work for a prolonged period. I dropped an expensive bouquet and stunning gold pendant from Tiffany & Co. to her house as a show of support during her first week away from work. I remember how hollow and frail she appeared when she pried the front door of her house open. She invited me in, and we cried together for hours over cups of tea about the injustice of it all.
She grieved for a long while after that. Her gross creature of a husband showed his true colours and left for another woman, but I continued to show my support by stopping by her house every couple of days just to talk or be a shoulder to cry on. I often brought gifts with me. I knew money couldn't buy her happiness, but it was no major loss to my bank account and I hoped it at least helped to an extent.
Then, slowly but surely, the Mindy I knew from the dance school came back to shore. Around six months ago, she decided she was going to adopt. Sure, she cannot have a biological child of her own, but that does not mean she cannot be a mother and provide a loving home.
Mindy's lips tug downward. She raises a hand up to fiddle with a strand of her greying locks. "No news yet. I submitted the papers and they know of my interest, but not a word as yet."
"Mind," I mutter her name and place a well-manicured hand on her shoulder. "You'll be a fantastic foster mum and have the perfect home for any child. The agencies know that. I'm sure you'll hear something in no time."
"I know. I promise I am trying to stay optimistic."
"Besides, I'm always more than happy to help by buying things for the little one. Dad won't mind me dipping into our funds to—"
Mindy chuckles and shakes her head at my proposition, cutting my words short. "Carmen, as much as I appreciate it, you hardly need to spend your family's money on me. I am just fine."
I fight the urge to complain. Many people view me as entitled or spoilt because of my financial status, I know that. But why shouldn't I feel able to splash cash on both myself and the people I care about most?
"Anyway, I need to see the children out and return them to their parents. Have a pleasant afternoon," Mindy says, and I offer her a wave as she retreats from the room with the kids following behind.
My phone vibrates, shuddering against my thigh. I unzip the pocket of my gym leggings and retrieve the rectangular device. A message is visible on the illuminated screen.
'Are you finished at that backstreet shack yet, Carmen? Deidre is having a major disaster before tonight, and I'm, like, gagging for a coffee. Hurry your ass up and come get us!'
The message is from Juliette, or Jules, as everyone calls her—one of my best friends and co-captain of the dance team at college. After teaching my class at the dance school, I often pick Jules and my other friend, Deidre, up and we head out for coffee and some retail therapy.
Today, it seems Jules is extra impatient to get going.
I tap in my response, my acrylic nails rapping against the glass screen of my iPhone.
'Don't be mean about the school! I've offered to pay for renovations hundreds of times, but Mind won't budge. And I'm just finishing up now. I'll swing by and get you both in a tick!'
After hitting send, I lock my phone and head into the changing rooms.
I strip out of my work attire and place the dirty clothes inside my locker. I retrieve my towel from its depths before entering one of the shower cubicles and turning the water on.
When I first started working here, I turned my nose up at the shabby changing facilities. It's nothing like the luxurious shower and bathtub I have at home. But I've grown accustomed to the inconsistent temperature of the water in the showers and the cracking tiles that cover the walls.
Once satisfied that I have washed the sweat from today's class away, I wrap myself in the towel and return to my locker to retrieve a fresh change of clothes. I put on my undergarments and slide into one of my beloved minidresses before slipping my feet into a pair of white flats. I apply a generous amount of perfume and some light makeup. I would normally dry and style my hair after a shower, but the dryers at Mindy's haven't worked for months, so I instead opt to towel dry and then plait my damp hair to one side.
As I admire my reflection in the cracked mirror before me, my phone buzzes again. When I look, I see another message from Jules.
'Come on, Carmen! You're taking, like, forever.'
I grin. Never did I think I would meet someone who typed 'like' in most of their text messages, as well as speaking it a lot. That's Jules, though.
'On my way,' I send in response.
I stuff my dirty clothes and phone into my duffle bag and sweep my eyes across the changing room one more time. Once I am sure I have all of my belongings, I make my way out of the building.
---
Author's Note:
Welcome to chapter 1 of my new book, That Night in August. I have been so excited to share this book, but needed to make sure I had everything planned out and had made enough progress to keep up with updates first.
What are your thoughts on this first chapter? What do you think of our main character, Carmen, and her boss, Mindy?
Please remember to comment and hit that little star to vote, it helps me so much as an author. ✨
Amber