Just get a damn grip on yourself. It’s not that bad.
You’ve got it under control. You are stronger than this.
But I’m not stronger, and what Ches and I are trying to do for the next half hour is anything but ballet. It’s a disaster of epic proportions, and I want to cry and scream, but the panic chokes me. Everything, simply everything, is awful.
After forty-five minutes, Francesca assigns me a new partner, but things aren’t any better with Theo either. The fear is still there, all the time, and I hate, hate, hate that I can’t just shake it off. I feel sick again, but I can’t fall apart now. Not again.
Keep your eye on the goal. That’s all that matters.
I keep reminding myself of this, because it’s what saved me over the past few months. I had a goal, and I did everything I could to attain it. That goal was getting into this school, and now that I’m here, I’m losing my grip because every other goal is too far away. There’s nothing left within reach, nothing I can cling to and fight for. That’s why I’m failing.
Again and again.
Francesca ends the lesson with a worried crease between her eyebrows, her gaze lingering on me for a moment too long. I rush out of the room before she can call me back and ask what my damn problem is. Because it’s pretty obvious that my strange behaviorthis time wasn’t due to excitement or the fact that I didn’t eat enough.
I can’t hide from Mae, though. She asks me what’s going on. She does it in a sweet, caring way, but I can’t bear to tell her the truth. We’ve only known each other for three days. Instead, I avoid her. She’s understanding, but I can tell she’s worried. I would be too, if I were her, but that doesn’t change anything.
And then it’s Friday. My first week at the ballet school is coming to a close faster than I expected. I should be happy about the weekend, like everyone else. Two free days that most of us will spend in the ballet studios anyway, but they’re two days when we can do whatever we want and not be judged. We can practice on our own.
Unfortunately, there are still a few hours left before the weekend, and I have to dance with a partner for two of them. Or try to, at least. I can’t panic again.
But I can feel the fear the entire time. It’s lurking there beneath the surface long before I even enter the dance studio. I feel nauseated, and I am sweating even though it’s not warm. I’m nervous, and part of me wants to run away, but I’ve got to face the inevitable. Somehow, I’ll get through it. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. I have to.
I’m stretching the backs of my legs, eyes fixed on my feet, when Francesca rushes into the room like a whirlwind. She doesn’t waste time with a greeting but points first at Mae and then Jase, assigning every girl a partner. She hesitates for a split second before saying my name and then tells me to dance with Devon.
He groans with annoyance, and I blush. Of course he noticedhow badly things went with Ches and Theo. My legs tremble as I stand next to him.
“Can you try not to do the all-bad thing again today?” he says not very quietly, with his arms crossed over his chest.
Kelly, who is standing just a few steps away from us with Ches, giggles, and Ches shoots Devon a dirty look.
I stare at him, speechless, too shocked to reply. His mouth twists into something like a condescending smile, which, despite his best effort, doesn’t cover up the fact that he’s giving me side-eye. He checks out my pale tights and form-fitting leotard with the narrow straps, and his eyes stay a little too long on my breasts. The panic eats its way through to the surface, and all I want is to run away.
“Concentrate!” Francesca orders. She didn’t hear what Devon said to me or see how he looked at me, and while I wish she had, I don’t say anything, because I hate being a snitch.
“We’ll begin where we left off on Wednesday. Chester, Kelly, you start. We’ll continue in order. Zoe, Devon, you’re next.”
* * *
“No, it’s not going to work like this.” Francesca rubs her temples and stares at me with such desperation that one would think I’m causing her physical pain.
I can’t blame her. I’m in pain too. It’s twice as bad with Devon as it was with Ches and Theo. My body is rebelling against being touched by him with all its power. Every muscle is stiff and cramped. There’s no grace or control. I lose it as soon as he puts his hands on my body, on the thin fabric of my leotard. I feel naked, and it’s all wrong. I feel like I’m about to burst into tears.
“Zoe, I really don’t know why you’re making such a big issue about dancing with a partner. But whatever the reason, you’ll have to get it under control. Otherwise...” Francesca sighs, as if that says it all. And somehow, it does.
My heart falters.No, no, no!If I can’t get a grip on myself, I’ll be kicked out of school. For flunking a course. In the first week of the semester. I’m such a failure. Tears burn in my eyes, and I blink them away. I try with all my might to swallow the hard lump in my throat and almost choke on it.
“It would be better for all of us if she just ran away again,” I hear Devon murmur.
I haven’t even made it through a week, and it looks like I might have to give up my dream because my body can’t deal with it. Because it’s not doing what I ask it to. Because it’s fighting me.
“Fine. Let’s try something else.” Francesca carefully evaluates one boy after another. “Jase, I want to see you with Zoe again.”
No. Please, no. Please, please.
The words strain to come out, hoarse and pleading, but I can’t bring myself to say them. I can’t move. I can’t manage to walk toward him. It’s impossible. Why can’t she see that?
“Zoe?” Francesca says, but my body is paralyzed, and I suddenly feel terribly cold.
