Chapter 19
Aurora
Eight weeks later
Gasping for breath, Maxime and I hold the final position of the cha-cha-cha. His warmth radiates against my belly as we lock eyes, and I struggle to maintain my composure. We've been secretly training for eight weeks as a couple, yet we still haven't mastered the art of acting professionally. It would have been better if we had made more effort because today, we have an audience.
The last notes of the music fade away, and applause erupts immediately. Madame Durand looks happier than ever. "Wonderful," she exclaims.
Even David Grant, the dance academy's artistic director, nods in approval. Maxime walks over to them, and though I already miss his proximity, I know it's the right thing to do. I head toward the mirrored wall, grab my towel from the training bag, and wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead.
"She's making fantastic progress," David says to his colleagues, his words resonating in the empty room.
"And you refused to believe it for so long," Maxime responds, sounding amused.
I glance over at the three of them and notice David patting Maxime on the upper arm in a friendly manner. His hand rests exactly where I clutched my fingers tightly last night, accompanied by intense moans.
Oh dear... I probably shouldn't dwell on that right now.
"Absolutely. I take it all back," David replies with a rather peculiar expression on his face.
Suddenly, I'm alarmed. What does that mean?
However, Maxime appears unfazed. Only his slightly drawn-out exhale tells me he might be relieved. Now he turns to face me.
"That's it for today, Aurora. See you the day after tomorrow for the next training session." He gives me a brief glance and then turns away again.
He plays his role perfectly. Secretly grinning inside, I drape the towel around my neck and grab my water bottle. "All right, see you then," I reply casually, even enjoying a bit of amusement at misleading the others.
I exit the room with a spring in my step. Only when they can no longer see my face do I allow the lovesick grin I've held back throughout the entire hour.
"Hey."
Who was that?
To be safe, I suppress the grin and look around. It doesn't take long for me to spot Sky, casually leaning against the white-painted wall, exuding the aura of a model. Her red curls cascade gracefully over her shoulders, forming an incredible contrast to the stylish azure autumn jacket she's wearing.
I stroll up to her. "You were waiting for me, weren't you?" I inquire with a playful smile.
She shrugs, a hint of sadness in her expression. "What else can I do?" she responds.
Instantly, guilt washes over me. Over the past few weeks, we haven't spent much time together. That's mainly because I've been with Maxime every free moment.
"It's great that you're here," I say, linking my arm with hers and leading her down the hallway toward the changing rooms. My dance shoes make a muted clacking sound on the stone floor. "You're the best friend anyone could have, you know that?"
A reddish hue tints her cheeks. "Well, someone has to take care of our friendship," she replies.
"The part-time job at the café and the training take up so much time," I say remorsefully.
Though that's not entirely untrue, I'm omitting the most crucial part. The knowledge gnaws at me, yet I understand it's necessary.
Thankfully, we've reached our destination. The familiar blend of deodorant, damp fabric, and hairspray greets us as we enter the changing room. Three third-year students are getting ready for their training. One of them eyes me rather conspicuously as I head to my locker on the left side of the fully tiled room and open it.
My mother's smiling face looks back at me from the inside of the door.
"Well, I think you're definitely training too much," Sky comments, settling onto the narrow wooden bench beside me. "I mean, you can't spend half the night at the gym when you've already danced all day and rocked the evening shift at the café."
Avoiding eye contact, I hastily grab my shower gel and a fresh towel. "There's no other way. The championship is too important," I say, feeling a knot forming in my stomach, which only grows larger as images of that specificgymflash through my mind.
