I walked into the cafeteria, wringing my sweaty hands anxiously. I looked around and spotted Majesty and Kenzie with their heads together talking, what looked to be, urgently.
Paranoia overtook me in almost an exact instant.
What if Majesty had told Kenzie about what she heard in the bathroom yesterday, and they were now discussing different ways to break the news to my family so they could send me back to that godforsaken treatment center?
I had been avoiding my friends since I left the mall with Deacon yesterday for preciously that reason. I had ignored the hailstorm of phone calls they had been bombarding me with, and had intentionally made Deacon and I late this morning so we would miss homeroom, and I wouldn't have to face them.
I knew that despite my best efforts, I couldn't avoid them forever. I had to face them in hope I could do some damage control. I say this with no pride, but I happen to be a very skilled liar and manipulator when I need to be, so getting them to drop the matter shouldn't be too difficult.
I hope.
I took a deep breath and headed for the lunch line. I made my way though and tossed a chicken sandwich and a bottle of water on my tray. After making my purchase, I headed over to our table and sat down across from Majesty and Kenzie.
I smiled brightly and dropped my bag on the chair next to me. "Hi."
They looked up simultaneously and leaned away from each other, straightening up.
"Demi," Majesty smiled. "Hi."
"Hey," Kenzie greeted pleasantly, smiling. A smile that didn't touch her eyes.
"What's up?" I asked casually, unwrapping my sandwich.
"Nothing," Majesty shook her head.
A short silence settled over us.
"Where were you this morning?" Majesty asked, looking at me expectantly.
"Deacon was being slow this morning," I shrugged, picking my sandwich apart.
"Oh?" Kenzie asked, a smile still gracing her red painted lips. "And was Deacon the reason you didn't pick up your phone last night?"
Majesty pinned Kenzie with a hard look as my brain went into overdrive to attempt to make up a flyable excuse.
"I lost my phone," I blurted out.
Majesty lifted a dark eyebrow. "You lost your phone," she repeated.
"Yes," I nodded, cringing internally. Out of all the excuses. Now I wouldn't be able to bring my phone out around them. "I must have dropped it at the mall or something."
"Mhmm," Kenzie nodded, pulling out her own phone and tapping on it.
A couple of seconds passed before my phone started blaring my obnoxiously loud Ariana Grande ringtone from my book bag.
My heart sunk. I slowly reached into my bag and ended the call coming in from Kenzie.
"I really like that song," Kenzie said flatly, tossing her phone on the table. "Remind me to download it."
"I guess I just misplaced it," I attempted a smile. "Thanks for calling it. I was going to end up getting a new one when mine was just in my bag all alon-"
"Oh, Demi stop it," she snapped. "Do you take us for idiots?"
"Sometimes," I admitted.
"Why have you been avoiding us?" Kenzie demanded. "Are you trying to hide something from us?"
"I literally haven't talked to you guys in like fourteen hours," I rolled my eyes. "That hardly counts as 'avoidance'."
"Oh, but it does," she folded her hands together. "Why were you throwing up in the bathroom yesterday?"
I glared at Majesty. "I take it you told the Pope as well?"
"Demi, we're just a little bit worried," Majesty began, but I quickly cut her off.
"Worried about what!?" I cried. "Are you people aware that sometimes people just throw up as a means to get rid of something their body can't handle? Sometimes you can't control it. It just happens!"
"And did it just happen?" Kenzie questioned. "Or did you make it happen?"
"What exactly are you trying to imply I did, MacKenzie?" I asked.
"You guys," Majesty tried, but was cut off by Kenzie.
"I'm trying to imply you stuck your finger down your throat," she said bluntly.
I stood up instantly and grabbed my bag. "Don't overwhelm me with the trust, K," I snorted. "I might drown in it."
"D, we just-"
I turned away from Majesty and Kenzie and walked out of the cafeteria.
My heart raced in the confinements of my chest as I made my way down the empty hallways and to one of the exits towards the back of the school.
Pushing open the door, I slipped out and held the door as it shut so it wouldn't close with a loud bang. I slowly began to walk down the black pavement, taking deep breathes as a way to calm myself down a little bit.
I knew my friends meant well. Deep down I really did.
I knew Majesty was just worried for me, and I knew Kenzie was simply scared I had "derailed", but that knowledge didn't do anything to soothe my nerves or make me any less angry.
It was incredibly irritating how they thought (well, how Kenzie thought) they could just yell at me like a child for doing something they didn't like. It was absolutely ridiculous for them to assume they could tell me what to do, not to mention very demeaning and condescending.
I just hoped they wouldn't go running to tell Deacon, or worse my parents, about the bathroom "incident". The last thing I needed was everyone breathing down my neck for something that really was incredibly minor.
If it's so minor why are you so set on hiding it from everyone? My subconscious obnoxiously whispered in the back of my head
"Shut up," I snapped, annoyed with myself for bringing up a very good, but completely unnecessary point.
I let out a heavy sigh and rounded the corner of the building that took me to the front of the school. I paused and looked around wondering where it was I was even going.
My eyes zeroed in on the bike rack ten feet away from me and saw a hooded figure leaning against it, holding a cigarette to his lips.
Before I realized what I was doing, my legs had carried me over to the rack, and I was leaning against the heated, gray metal.
"Hey," Aidan said after looking up and glancing over at me.
"Hi," I said shortly. I didn't say anything else and stared out at the packed parking lot.
We sat together in silence for quite a while. The smoke from Aidan's cigarette wafting around us. The smell wasn't as bothersome to me with such pressing issues racing around my mind.
"Why aren't you at lunch?" Aidan asked, ruining the peaceful quiet.
I cracked a humorous smile at that and shook my head, looking over at me. "I'm not hungry," I said. "You?"
"I needed a smoke."
I nodded.
"Are you going to lecture me on the consequences of smoking?" Aidan asked, almost humorously. He seemed to be attempting to get me to say more than a few syllables.
"No," I said. "It's your life, your decisions. You should do whatever you need to do in order to make yourself happy."
"What's wrong with you?" He asked, giving me an assessing look.
"Nothing's wrong with me."
"Something is wrong with you," he disagreed.
"What makes you say that?" I asked, running my hand over the metal, avoiding his usual penetrating gaze.
"One, you're quiet," he said. "You're being really quiet now, and you were really quiet in Lit."
"So?"
"You're never quiet."
"I am too quiet," I huffed. "Sometimes. When I'm having a bad day."
"Are you having a bad day, Cupcake?"
I smiled and looked at him.
"What?" He asked, smiling back.
"That's cute," I noted, ignoring the fact that my heart had picked up speed at his gorgeous smile. "You calling me 'Cupcake'."
"Well, Demi," Aidan said, taking a drag from his cigarette and letting them smoke seep from his mouth. "If anyone can be described as a cupcake, it's you."
"Thanks!" I said, grinning. I frowned a little in the next second. "That's a compliment, right?"
"Are cupcakes the most delectable food product in the world?" He asked, looking at me expectantly.
"Yes."
"Then yes," he shifted on the rack. "Plus, I still remember the gesture you made with the container of average cupcakes."
"Very funny," I said, making a face.
"Do you want to tell me what's gotten you in such a bad mood now?"
"It's nothing," I shrugged. "Just stuff."
"You want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Okay," he said and dropped it immediately.
I had to learn how to do that.
I watched as he took drag after drag from his cigarette, before I scooted closer to him and held out my hand.
"Can I have one?"
Aidan gave me a surprised look. "You want to smoke?"
"I need to destress," I explained.
He studied me for about twenty seconds before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pocket.
"Try not to throw up again," he said, handing me one.
"If I throw up I'll make sure it's on you," I responded, examining the cigarette and wondering how such a small stick could hold so many dire problems.
"Pleasant," he snorted.
"Can you light it for me?" I stuck the cigarettes in my mouth and sucked on it before, leaning in towards him, looking at him with expectancy.
Aidan smiled and shook his head, flicking on the lighter.
"What?" I mumbled around the death sentence in my mouth.
"You're cute," he said appreciatively and lit it before I could reply. "Inhale," he commanded. "Slowly."
I slowly took a deep breath and extracted the cigarette from my lips. I exhaled and coughed wildly, trying to clear my air pipes. My eyes began watering.
"Well, at least you didn't throw up," Aidan said, rubbing my back in attempts to help me not choke to death, which did a lot more harm than good considering how my whole body seized up, and my heart threatened to go into cardiac arrest the second he put his hand on me.
"How do people do this?" I gasped.
I'm pretty sure the gasp wasn't because of the cigarette.
"The fumes are an acquired taste," Aidan admitted.
I nodded. I felt myself growing extremely dizzy as his hand moved in slow circles on my back. My heart started to speed up dangerously, and my brain turned to goo. The only thing it could process was that Aidan's hand, that had an incredibly strong feel, was on me.
"Are you okay?"
I managed to nod and not pass out. When his hand dropped my body slowly began to start up again, and I exhaled sharply in pure frustration at the level of pathetic I was at.
It was absolutely absurd that I kept on having such real, physical reactions to the most minor things Aidan happened to do. He could simply glance at me, and my heart would threaten to stop on me.
Not only was it unhealthy, but I was pretty sure it wasn't entirely normal.
Sure, people talked about having similar types of reactions to the people they found themselves attracted to. Artists of all genres sang about their body functioning differently when they were around people they felt something for, but I'm pretty sure none of them had their vital organs getting ready to fail them like this.
If I didn't come to my senses and calm down I was bound to end up in the hospital again.
I shook my head and put my cigarette back up to my lips and tried inhaling the smoke again. I was slightly more successful, but still winded up hacking my lungs up.
"Maybe you shouldn't smoke that," Aidan suggested, patting my back.
"I'm fine," I dismissed him, pushing his hand away from me so I didn't end up fainting. "Guess what?"
"What?"
"I said guess."
He gave me a look, but humored me. "You won the lottery."
"Better," I smiled excitedly.
"What's better than winning the lottery?" He asked.
"I'm dancing today!" I squealed.
Aidan sucked on his cigarette, looking thoughtful. He exhaled slowly and shook his head. "No, that's not better than winning the lottery."
"Yes, it actually is," I mimic Aidan's actions and put my cigarette to my lips. I inhale and then exhale, coughing and then giggling.
"What's so funny?" His eyes looked at me, and I saw they conveyed amusement.
"Nothing," I waved the cigarette around. "I just feel cool smoking this."
Aidan rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you do. Can you even dance with that?" He pointed to my arm, abruptly changing the subject.
I looked at my cast and shrugged. "I don't dance with my arms," I paused. "Well, that's actually not true. Arms are important. They help keep the balance," I explained. "Which might be a problem with the bulky cast weighing me down on one side, but I'll figure it out. I really need to get back to practicing."
"You make it sound urgent," he noted. "Why's that?"
"I have a winter concert in December, as well as a Juilliard audition so," I shrugged. "There's no time to waste."
Aidan whistled. "Juilliard? It's that serious?"
"It's that serious," I nodded.
"Wow," he stared at me impressed. "You must be really good if you've got an audition with Juilliard."
I waved off the compliment. "I mean, I'm alright," I started to chew on my nails before remembering that I just got them done and quickly extracted them. Instead I put the cigarette to my lips and inhaled. "It's just an audition. No grantees I'll get in."
"You won't with that attitude," Aidan said, before taking a drag. "Try being positive."
"You're never positive," I pointed out.
"And you always are. What's different about this?"
"I don't want to get my hopes up," I admitted. "My entire future is riding on this."
"I can see how that would be a little nerve wracking," he agreed.
"Just a little bit," I smiled, and watched the smoke slink around us.
"What started this ballet thing for you?" He stared at me, looking curious.
"I was six years old. My mom was watching this movie, and I happened to walk in the living room," I smiled fondly at the memory of my first encounter with ballet. "The Company. A Robert Altman film. My favorite film of all time to date."
"What's it about?"
"A year in the life of the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago, during which some careers are born, others die, romance glows uncertainly, a new project begins as a mess and improbably starts to work, and there is never enough money," I quoted word on word a description I had read years ago. "The main characters are Ry played by Neve Campbell. She's a young, aspiring dancer. Then there's Harriet played by Barbara E. Robertson. She's a veteran. Josh played by James Franco aka the love of my life. He's a chef who happens to be Ry's love interest. There's also Alberto Antonelli played by Malcolm McDowell. He's the company's artistic director."
"It sounds pretty boring to me," Aidan said.
I gave him a look. "Well, it's not. Did you know the movie actually featured some of the real Joffrey dancers?" I bounced my legs excitedly. "Like real dancers who were trained at this world renowned ballet training center."
"No way," he said, over exaggerating his words. "You're kidding!"
"Aidan," I whined, pushing him as he snickered. "I'm being serious. It's cool!"
"What's so cool about it?"
"You get to see what's going on behind the scenes at this school," I elucidated. "You get to see the extensive work these ballerinas put in to reach their end goals, as well as all the different and unique training techniques they use. You literally follow these people for a year as they make the journey of a lifetime. You witness dreams falling apart and coming together alike, and the dances in general are just," I shook my head. "They're intricate, complex, graceful, and elegant. That's what really got me hooked. They way the dancers moved with ease to such complicated dances. How their feet were able to carry them, and how confident they were. I wanted that. I wanted to be confident and beautiful like them."
Aidan nodded slowly. "You just made it a whole lot interesting, Demi."
I smiled. "I bugged my parents for six months straight to let me do ballet. They eventually just said yes so I would leave them alone," I snorted. "Bet they wish they had held onto their willpower for just a little bit longer now."
"They don't like your ballet?"
"They haven't sat down to watch me in a concert since I was twelve," I said flatly, my heart sinking. "That was five years ago."
"Well, that's fucked up," Aidan frowned. "Why not?"
"They don't like how it consumes my life, supposedly," I sighed and lifted my hand to my lips and inhaled the cigarette's fumes. I let it out slowly. "They just don't get it, and I doubt they ever will."
"What don't they get?" He questioned, burning curiosity lacing his tone. I studied his eyebrow scrunched face.
"That ballet is my sanity," I said simply. "The only sanity I know."
"That actually really sucks."
"It actually really does."
We sat in silence, smoking our cigarettes with me coughing every once and while.
"It's okay though," I piped up. "It's not my entire family that's unsupportive. Deacon might make cracks at it every chance he gets, but he actually really supports it."
"Deacon," Aidan repeated. "Your brother?"
"'My twin," I tossed the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. "My best friend, even though he annoys the hell out of me every hour of the day and every day of the week. You know, in the eleven years I've been dancing he has yet to miss one recital. He even missed a couple of football games to come and watch me, and he has an unhealthy love for football."
"That's a good brother," Aidan said nodding.
"Yeah," I smiled happily at him. "Talking to you as made me feel a whole lot better."
"Then my plan worked," he said, standing up.
I watched him put out his cigarette and pull out keys from his pocket. He glanced at me, looking hesitant. He then held out his hand towards me.
"You want to come with me to pick up my sister?" He asked.
His body stance told me that he was uncertain with himself. The way he was holding out his hand halfway for me, and the way he was frowning indicated he was unsure. What he was unsure about it, I'll never know. Maybe he didn't know if he really wanted me to come with him. Maybe he was debating how annoying I would be.
Those thoughts didn't stop me from grabbing my bag and standing up. I placed my hand in his and nodded.
"Yeah, I would like to pick up your sister with you."
I watched Aidan relax just a tiny bit at my words and nodded before starting towards the parking lot, pulling along.
"Can I drive your bike?"
"Do you want to go back into that building?"
"Sorry."
~~~~~~~~
A/N: Okay, so this story has over 8K reads and 461 votes which is actually pretty amazing. Like, that's so many???
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Jess