SUMMER
Cigarettes and coffee are part of a ballerina's diet. That phrase has been stuck in my mind since one of my classmates offered me that cancer stick and I said no.
It's never been my diet. My mothers caught me once with a cigarette in hand and I'm pretty sure Mom almost passed out but it wasn't mine– it was Mila's. We were sixteen, two new babies at the Academy with all the cool girls and Mila had accepted one just to seem cool. She almost died coughing, of course, she handed to me and I grabbed it– My moms appeared in front of me the second that thing touched my fingers. They must have superpowers or something.
But either way, that's never been my diet. Daisy thinks I should do it just because she did it in her time– and since I'm about to become the next 'her' I should. I won't, because it smells disgusting and honestly I don't wanna die from cancer.
I've been in the studio for three and a half hours now. I came at eleven in the morning, like she asked me– Daisy's on her millionth cigarette and I'm pretty sure my lungs have been intoxicated by the smell.
Can I get cancer just by inhaling smoke? Oh, god. Am I going to die?
"Bennett!" I flinch, meeting angry blue eyes. "What the fuck are you doing? Move!"
My gaze meets my reflection in the mirror and I focus on the soft melody, my body moves at the sound like a muscle memory. I feel the sharp pain in my leg, the burning in my feet and how shaky my arms feel from how exhausted I am. My eyes feel heavy because I spent the whole night trying to build a choreography for Willow's song and then, I ended up catching up on homework.
I don't think what I'm doing– I just let my body move. Like I said, muscle memory.
"Stop! Stop!" she groans, shutting down the music– the studio falling into a heavy silence. "You're– God, you're a disaster, Summer."
I try not to wince when my feet touch the floor. "I'm sorry, I was–"
"Who's the girl?" she cuts me off harshly. I freeze in my spot. My legs feel like they're about to give up so I take three steps back until I hit the barre for balance.
"What?" I feel my cheeks going red and not from the cold.
"Who is that girl I saw you with a few days? She came looking for you here. Are you distracted because of her? Are you telling me you're still a dyke?"
I can hear the loud thump-thump-thump from my heart as I stare directly at her. "What? I'm not– She's not–"
"Are you getting distracted because you have a little girlfriend, Bennett? Prima ballerinas don't have girlfriends– God, girlfriend." she laughs but there's not humor in her voice. She says it like an insult. Something dirty and disgusting.
She hides her face behind her hands, shaking her head. "Do you know how stupid that sounds? Girlfriend! You should be dating Connor to fucking promote the show! But no, you're still in your little lesbian phase and can't get over it, right? Do you know how bad does this look for my company? For me?!"
"What?" I repeat for the third time. My entire body shakes and tears start to burn in my eyes from embarrassment. "What are you talking about–"
"Don't fucking talk back at me!" she slams her fist in the metal desk in front of her, making me flinch at the sound, my entire chest feels tight and burning. "Do you know how humiliating is to have a lesbian ballerina? Never happened in my fucking life– No. I took you in, I've put years of time and money and effort into you, and you're so fucking ungrateful. Getting distracted because you have a girlfriend, god. This is pathetic."
I swallow the knot in my throat, feeling the way my eyes sting with tears as I try to look at her through my glossy eyes. "This is unfair. You don't get to talk to me like that. I'm... I'm your student, you're my dance instructor."
Daisy laughs. "Oh, trust me. I know, and as your dance instructor, let me tell you– you're a fucking disaster! You're getting sloppy— your leg. What's wrong with your leg? What is wrong with all of you? Instead of getting better, you're getting worse by the min—"
"She's not my girlfriend." I cut her off, not wanting to hear her voice anymore. I move to the other side of the room, limping until I get to my bag, I pull it over my shoulder, feeling everything inside my body burn with anger and humiliation and sadness. I just want to scream. Snap. Run. Hide. Break.
"I don't have to explain anything to you about my life. I'm here to dance and you're here to teach me. And that's it."
"What— Where are you going?" she gets on her feet when she sees me taking my pointe shoes. "Where not fucking done here, Summer."
"I am." I raise my voice, it sounds shaky and I'm afraid to break in front of her.
Breaking means showing weakness in front of her and I won't. I can't. "I am done for today. I'll see you in two days." I'm done. I'm done. I'm done.
"You can't just walk away, we're in–"
"Watch me!" with my bag hanging from my shoulder and barefoot, I walk to the front door ignoring the way my body protests in pain.
She stops me by grabbing me by the wrist. Her eyes red from anger, and in this moment I realize I'm afraid of her. "You'll be here tomorrow, Bennett or–"
I push her away, pressing my lips together as I shake my head. I feel my body burning with anger, telling me to snap. Telling me to break.. "Or what?" I raise my voice. "You'll kick me out? Do it! Let's see if people show up to the performance without me, and with a new dancer who doesn't know the acts like I do. Do it! See if I care!"
I storm away from her, practically jogging to my car and I don't let myself break, not until I'm a few blocks away from the studio. My entire body is shaking, my heart is beating a mile per second, my eyes are so glassy that I barely see through them. Madame Daisy's words echo in my mind.
I've always known there were homophobic people in the world– I experienced it since I was forced to come out to the world. But Daisy's words? She's an adult. She's a fucking grown up– how can she be so closed minded?
She wants me to do public relationship with Connor, my partner for this performance, like we're on fucking Hollywood? God, that is pathetic. She only cares about fame and money and glory and I... I'm so tired.
I park my car in the first spot I see and I let myself fall apart.
I've been putting up with her bullshit for three years now. Going to that Academy was always a dream of mine– I wanted that so badly, I wanted to work with her, I wanted to be the best but right now? I couldn't care less. Daisy Silvers is making me hate what I love most in the world.
I used to agree with her, when she said dancing was my life, but it doesn't feel like that anymore. It doesn't feel like my life. It feels hers. Daisy is living her life through mine and I can't do it anymore. I can't– I'm losing myself in the process of growing up, instead of finding the best version of myself.
What if I can't never find her? What if I'm stuck being this whole other person I don't recognize? What if this is the best version of myself?
My phone rings inside my bag, the sound muffled by all the things I have there and I look down at myself. I'm still in my black leotards and pink skirt. I let my hair down, the bun was making my brain hurt even more. I brush it softly with my fingers before leaning my head back on the car seat.
When it rings again, I groan before reaching for it. If it's Daisy telling me to come back I swear to god I'm going to fucking lose it.
Oh, it's not Daisy.
I pick up after clearing my throat, wiping the tears with my fingertips. "Mom?" my voice sounds harsh, and I hope she doesn't notice.
"Sunshine, where are you? We just went for food at McDonald's. Are you in class? Do you want to have lunch with us?" her happy voice almost– almost brings a smile on my face.
My mothers always called me sunshine and sunny, because they said it fitted my personality. Always happy, always smiling, always a light of sunshine but I always thought that was her. My mom is the definition of the sun. She can light up the whole world by just smiling.
"Uh, I'm in..." I look around, searching for an excuse. Not because I don't want to see them– but, I don't want them to see me like this. I'm pretty sure my eyes are bloodshot from crying. "Oh. I'm at the dorms I'm going to see... Willow?" the last word comes out like a question when my eyes land in the girl talking with a woman just a few feet away from me. Willow looks so uncomfortable and sad that I don't think twice before searching for my shoes in my bag.
"Willow? Are you with Willow? We just saw her at McDonald's." my mom's voice fills the car while my eyes are locked with the scene in front of me. The woman seems like she's yelling at the green-eyed girl, my heart squeezes at the thought of Willow being hurt.
"We invited her for thanksgiving, hope that's okay. Do you think it's okay? You can invite Mila and Ava if you want, Luke and Logan are coming too."
"What?" I really think I forgot how to breathe. "You invited Willow for thanksgiving? Why?"
"Why not?" she sounds like she's smiling. "She's your friend. Tell her to come. She's going to have fun."
"Mom—" I cut myself off when I see Willow flinching, my heart freezes and I'm already opening the door. Almost tripping as I touch the ground. "Mom, I have to go. We'll talk later."
I hang up before she can say anything and I try to cross the street, two cars honk at me, but my eyes are following the woman with old clothes as she leaves Willow standing all alone in the middle of the UBC entrance. My heart is pounding hard as I get closer to her, I notice she's not moving– her eyes fixated on the woman leaving her.
Her fist holds a McDonald's bag so tightly that I think it might break.
A strong knot appears in my stomach when I notice she's shaking like a leaf. "Willow?" I breathe, my voice shaky as a result of my own tears.
She ignores me– or doesn't listen to me, actually. I stand in front of her and her eyes are... away. She's not here– she's lost in her mind. "Willow, hey. Can you hear me?" she keeps her green eyes over my shoulder.
I grab her hands with mine, trying to get a reaction out of her but, nothing. "Willow. I'm here, come back."
She's breathing hard, her chest rising and falling with heaviness and her mouth is shut. I experienced a lot of panic attacks myself to know the signs of one. Still holding her hands, I make her walk to my car. Willow lets me, still lost somewhere in her body.
Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach when I place my hands in her cheeks, I force her to look at me. "Willow, baby. It's Summer. Can you hear me? Focus on my voice, okay? You're not dying, you're fine, you're here with me and no one's going to hurt you."
Pale green eyes meet my brown ones, they seem to soften for a small second before the fear takes over her again. She parts her lips, sucking for air. "I... can't... I can't... breathe."
"Yes, you can. You're okay, I promise. You just need to breathe with me, please?" I soften my voice, stroking her cheeks softly. "Try it. Just follow my lead."
I lock my eyes with hers, my heart twists at her sight. She looks so scared and terrified. I want to keep her safe. That's all I want.
I breathe through my nose while I count to four, Willow tries to do the same.
I hold my breath for seven and then I exhale through my mouth for eight seconds.
Willow focuses on my breath without breaking eye contact, I don't stop doing the breathing exercise until she copies me to perfection.
A few moments later, her body stops shaking but I don't dare to move– I tell her to keep going, just breathe for four, hold for seven and exhale for eight.
"That's it. You're okay, you're doing great." I tell her softly, her sweet eyes twinkle with tears that I hate to see. "You're fine, do you listen to me?" she nods. "Okay, that's good. Focus on my voice. I'm here, you're not alone. I promise, Willow."
"Sum–"
"Shh, it's okay. Don't say anything, just keep breathing." I smile at her, trying to bring some sort of comfort in her. "Everything's fine."
"How did you– what are you doing–" she tries to speak, sucking for air as she does.
"It doesn't matter. I'm here for you and that's all that matters, yeah? Just... stay with me." I hold her, my hands never leaving her cheeks. My eyes never leaving hers and my heart staying with her— for the longest time.
❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅
"Where are we going?"
"Do you trust me?"
Her face softens at my question. "I do." the corner of her lips rise slightly. "But– where are you taking me?"
I shrug. "Just somewhere."
"Somewhere? What does that even me– Am I being kidnapped right now?" she mock-gasps, her green eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Of course not. I just..." I took a turn, leaving my words hanging in the air of my car. I can tell she's waiting for me to continue but– "We're here."
Her face turns ahead of us as I park the car in front of the Johnson's lake-house. Aunt Lauren gave us a spare key for Aurora and me, for whenever we needed some time alone. It's like my moms' beach-house, but this one's not as popular as my moms'.
I decided to bring Willow here without even questioning after I saw her almost having a panic attack. This place is usually so calm and peaceful that I figured that's what she needed today. Just disconnect from the real world and have some quiet time. That's what I need sometimes. I sent a quick text message to my aunt, I told her I was coming here and she replied almost instantly, telling me it was okay. They're busy with the thanksgiving dinner, so I know she doesn't care about me being here.
"What's this place?"
I grab our stuff before getting out of the car. "Follow me, there's no one here."
"This yours?" I hear the surprise in her tone as she follow behind.
"No, it's my aunt's." I feel her presence behind me as I unlock the door, my body feels warm when she's close to me. "I just– I thought you needed sometime alone, quiet and... I don't know."
I turn around, facing her. Her sweet-coconut smell fills my lungs and I feel blood rushing to my cheeks when I notice how close we're standing, but surprisingly I don't step back– neither does she. Her green eyes are puffy from crying, her cheeks red and god, she still looks beautiful.
My stupid heart flutters every time I see her, maybe this wasn't such a good idea but seeing her so sad and broken, it hurt inside my chest– I don't want to see her like that ever again and I felt the need to do something to make her smile and happy again. I want to know who was that woman, what did she say to make her upset and I want.... I want to listen to her, hold her, take care of her. I'm smaller than her, but somehow, today, she looks smaller than me.
"I, uh, is that okay? Do you want to go back?" I frown when she doesn't answer– just keeps those beautiful eyes on me. "Willow?"
Her cheeks turn even more red as she blinks a couple of times and takes a step back, coming back to me. "What? Oh, eh. No, it's okay. That's... very nice of you."
"Come in. Get comfortable, I'll make you some tea? Or coffee? What'd you like?"
She leaves her stuff next to the black couch, a little shy of being in this place– I can't blame her. "Um, coffee's fine."
Willow takes a seat in the kitchen island and we fall into a comfortable silence as I prepare our coffees– I hope she likes them. My lips rise when I remember my little sister saying that I suck at making coffee but my family drinks it because they love me. I guess, that's why they always put my mom or Aunt Lauren in charge of coffee or tea. Willow types something on her phone, I assume she's talking to Maya– she had McDonald's bags when I found her, she dropped them and I was so focused on her that I forgot to grab them.
Making coffee as Lauren taught me it's not hard but I still feel nervous about Willow's presence and reaction. It's just coffee, Summer. God.
I place a Spiderman mug in front of her, it belongs to Aurora but she won't mind, and I take a seat in front of her with my Taylor Swift mug. Willow chuckles when she sees it. "What?" I smile at her, thankful that she's smiling and feeling comfortable with me.
"You must really like her." she gestures to my mug, pressing her lips together to hide another smile.
"I do, Rory and I grew up with her music."
"And now your mom works with her." her brows raise.
I hum, nodding at her words. Mom does work with a lot of artists and I've met some of them but I don't think Willow wants me to talk about it. I don't think I want to talk about it. Willow is the one person who doesn't treat me like some kind of celebrity, 'the daughter of', or the future of ballet– she's... She treats me like a normal person, which is why I enjoy spending time with her.
"She does," I almost whisper. "Do you– Are you okay with that?"
She frowns, tilting her head to the side. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't... know. Sometimes–" I sigh, lowering my head, suddenly feeling insecure. "Sometimes people don't want to hang with me for being, uh, you know, who I am."
"I like spending time with you." she says, her voice softened. I bring my eyes to hers while my heart speeds inside of me. It doesn't mean anything, stop it. "And not because of who your family is or even you. You're my... Summer. My friend. You're a nice person, Sums, it's easy to... like you."
I blush, tucking my bottom lip with my teeth. It doesn't mean anything. "I like spending time with you, too." I smile, her face softens and she takes a sip of the coffee frowning as she does. "Oh, god. Is terrible, isn't it? I'm so sorry– I'll order something for both of us, you don't have to–"
"Summer." she stops me from grabbing the mug by placing her warm and soft hand above mine. My heart skips a beat at the sudden touch and a shock of electricity travels over my body. She must've felt it too, because she looks down at our hands and quickly takes it away. "It's okay. I like it. Why would you say that?"
"I... don't know. My little sister said it was bad." my nose wrinkles and Willow laughs, the sound going straight to my little stupid heart. "What?"
She stares at me, glossy eyes and a playful smile on her face. "Your little sister? You mean, the little girl I met today– who's probably not even ten and is not allowed to have coffee?"
My cheeks heated even more as I process her words. "I mean... yes?"
She shakes her head with a soft laugh. "It's good, Sums. Don't worry."
"Promise?"
She locks her eyes with me and nods. "Promise."
I sit back, resting my hands on my lap so she can't see the slightly shake in them from her touch. "So, uh... You've met Millie?"
Now it's her turn to blush. Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink before she takes a deep breath and parts her perfect lips. "Yeah. I– she was with your moms at McDonald's, she introduced herself at me. She's cute."
"She is. Did she say something?" my heart races. I know how my sister can be if I have a new friend– a new female friend, she's literally obsessed with my love life.
"Nope, it was barely a conversation. I, uh, talked with your mom, though."
"She told me." I nod, the room suddenly feeling small. "She said she invited you for thanksgiving. I'd love for you to come, if you want."
"Yeah?" her eyes shine. "I... don't know, though. I don't want to–"
I shake my head, cutting her off. "You won't. Thanksgiving is about family and friends and my friends will be there, too. I want you to come."
"I'll think about it." she gives me a soft nod. "My... brother is coming home so I don't know what I'll be doing."
"Your brother?" I raise my brows at her.
"Yeah. I have a brother. Twin brother, he lives in the States." I see the sadness taking over her eyes and something stings in my chest.
I remember the lady from earlier, how sad Willow was, the panic in her eyes, the way her body was shaking. "We don't have to talk about it but– are you okay?"
She stays quiet with her glossy eyes on me, like she's thinking about what to say. What to do. How to respond. Or maybe she's just thinking if she can trust me. She can, I want her to. I need her to trust me. I want to know all her secrets, I want to fix everything for her– I want to help her. Would she let me? I want to be her friend. I want her.
She lets out a long sigh and presses her lips together. I notice she's trying hard not to cry and I want to kick myself for even asking that question.
"Willow–"
"I will be." she tells me. "I think I'll be okay. Only if you... just, I don't know, stay with me? I feel... I don't know how to explain it. You make me feel safe." she blushes.
Butterflies take off in my stomach and I quickly go to her, wrapping my arms around her neck as she holds me in her arms, pulling me closer to her. Safe. I can do safe. That's what I want. Is this weird when I don't know her that well? Screw it. Willow James can own me for all that matters. I've never felt like this before and... I like it. I love this feelings, spent my whole life reading about them and I was so convinced it only happened in books— but no, they're real. Oh, they're very real. It should scare me, it does but it also feels good.
"You'll be okay." I assure her. "And I'll be here, if you want to talk about it. I'm here, for whatever you need, okay? You're not alone, I promise."
She doesn't say anything, just pulls me closer to her and I let her.
Safe. You make me feel safe, too.