I cry every time I let myself remember. I cry every time I dance to this song.
It’s okay though. I’m used to the tears.
But I should stop now.
I’m here to dance, not waste whatever precious time I have on crying and…
Wait.
I feel something.
Something on the back of my neck that makes me jerk my head up and look out the tall window.
There’s nothing there except the view of a quiet, dark street, with a lamppost pouring down yellow light and a lone bus stop.
But.
But it felt like…
It felt like I was being watched. Like someone was watching me.
Likehe…
At the thought, I spring to my feet. I run to the back door, the door through which I got in, and go outside. It opens into a narrow brick alley and I round the corner to get to the front.
To get to the spot directly outside the window of the practice room.
Of course there’s nothing here.
Of course.
But for some reason, my body is buzzing.
My legs feel restless, excited. My chest is filled with a rush.
A rush, an eagerness that I used to feel two years ago.
Back when… whenhewatched me.
When he’d come to the school auditorium and sit in the third row.
When he wanted me to dance for him and he couldn’t take his eyes off me when I did.
Back when I was his fairy.
I lie. That’s what I do…
I shake my head when his voice, his words — some of the last ones that he spoke — flit through my brain, my fake wings brushing against my back.
I’m being silly.
No one’s here.
Sighing, I go back and I’m about to enter the building to finish practicing when I hear a thud, a boot hitting the pavement, and I spin around once again to look.
Okay, I did not imagine that, did I?
I did not imagine that sound.
