Prologue
Zoe
It all starts with a game. I’m with my friends at our high school spring formal, and at first it’s the perfect evening.
That is, until my best friend Charlotte sweeps into the ballroom two hours late with a radiant smile on her face. She looks drop-dead gorgeous, but then, shealwaysdoes. She’s absolutely perfect.
“Hey, I have to tell you guys something!” she squeals, reaching first for my hand, then Amber’s, and pulling us onto the dance floor. I’m too surprised to pull away. I just let it happen.
Scarlett is watching us, rolling her eyes. She’s the quietest of our group. It’s not that she’s shy; she just doesn’t have a very high opinion of most people. Sometimes I think she’s only hanging out with us because of Amber. The two of them have been best friends since kindergarten. They’ve known each other for as long as Charlotte and I have.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to ignore the queasy feeling that’s growing fast in my stomach. Charlotte is never late. Not without a reason. And she always tells us everything immediately. The fact that she just arrived and didn’t text any of us about her news ahead of time can’t be a sign of anything good.
Her smile grows even wider as she dramatically tosses her shiny black hair, which falls over her shoulders like a silky curtain. “Mymom went out to dinner with Monsieur Duval tonight, and guess what? I get to dance the role of Aurora inThe Sleeping Beauty!” She squeals again, the sound shrill enough to be easily heard over the music. I want to cover my ears, but I can’t move. I’d give anything at this moment to be able to block out the sound of her voice.
I get to dance the role of Aurora.
My stomach turns. This can’t be true. It can’t.
“Oh my God, that’s awesome!” Amber’s eyes go wide, and she throws her arms around Charlotte.
I, on the other hand, stand frozen and watch in disbelief as Scarlett also hugs Charlotte, smiling. I can see their lips moving, but I don’t understand what they’re saying. I try desperately to hold back the bitter tears threatening to overflow.
That was my role. The role I’ve been working toward for years. Ever since I started ballet, I’ve dreamed of playing Aurora.
And I got it. Up until a few hours ago, IwasAurora. Monsieur Duval gave the part to me. He told me last week that I was going to dance the lead inThe Sleeping Beauty.
How could this happen?
I know there’s a simple answer: Charlotte’s mother is involved. She would never go out to dinner with our ballet teacher if there weren’t something to be gained for Charlotte. Ever since Charlotte’s dad became the mayor of Boston, she and her older sister, Adaline, have gotten whatever they wanted.
A rush of sharp disappointment floods my brain. I never would have believed that Monsieur Duval could be manipulated like that. Not after he constantly drilled into us how important talent, discipline, and sacrifice are for our careers.
“Zoe?” Charlotte reaches for my hand, and it’s only when herfingers wrap around mine, warm and a little too tightly, that I realize I’m cold as ice.
I look up to see her smiling, a flash of sympathy in her blue eyes.
Not real.
Nothing about Charlotte is real. Not her sympathy, not her smile, not her friendship. This is the first time I’ve been completely aware of that, though there have been signs for a long time. I’ve just ignored them, stubbornly repressing what my intuition told me. I didn’t want to know. But now, ignoring them has become impossible. I can see it all.
“You’re not mad at me, are you? I know you wanted the role too. But we both know that you’re not ready yet, don’t we?” She blinks at me innocently, and I have a strong urge to slap the faux-pitying expression off her face and shred her pale blue dress that matches her eyes so perfectly. I didn’t justwantthe role. I alreadyhadit. I was chosen. Not her.
She stole it from me.
Because she couldn’t stand not being in the spotlight. Because she can never stand anyone being better than her.
Her betrayal hurts. It hurts so much that it’s hard to breathe. For a moment, I’m gasping for air and get the feeling that I’m about to lose my composure and just start screaming at her. And maybe I should. Just let it all out.
“Come on, Zoe, tell me you’re not mad at me,” Charlotte pleads. She begins to pout.
I know what I should do. I should tell her to stick the role up her ass, and our friendship with it. I know that I should man up and tell her what I think of her.
But of course, I don’t. I’ve known Charlotte my whole life,and she, Amber, and Scarlett are my only friends. It’s crystal clear to me what will happen if I don’t say what she wants to hear from me right now.
I’ll become an outcast, ending this school year and starting the next one without any friends. Finding new ones as a senior will be impossible, and Charlotte will make my life hell. As opposed to now, when she at least pretends that we’re friends. In her eyes, maybe wearefriends—as long as she gets what she wants, and I stay safely where I belong. In her shadow.
“I’m not mad,” I say, almost choking on the lie. Something inside me breaks. Maybe my heart. Or my dream of making it to the big stage. I feel it and hear the shattering sound so clearly that I wonder why no one else does. “You deserve it.”
