Page 21 of With You

Amelie glances back at me for barely a second before she mutters something under her breath, and then goes right back to looking at her phone. I can only stare at her back, something ugly building inside me at her complete indifference. I force myself to sit up, my heartbeat finally evening out enough that I feel slightly normal again apart from the pain coursing through my body.

“I’m done,” I tell her, and those two words make Amelie give me her full attention.

She puts the phone down, gracefully extending to her full height before she comes to stand over me.

“We still need to practice more,” she says. There’s no question in it, no asking if I’m okay to continue, or if I need to take a break. No consideration for me at all.

“Not today. Right now, all I need is an ice bath and to lie down in a dark room for a few hours.”

“There’s no time for that,” she counters, folding her arms across her chest. “Get up, we’ll take it from the top.”

My jaw drops, mouth opening as I try to figure out what to say to her. I almost passed out and she wants me to keep dancing? I agreed to help her, but I didn’t know she was just trying to find a way to kill me.

“I’m not doing it,” I tell her firmly.

I push myself off the ground to stand, trying not to wince as the ache in my legs only amplifies. Even if I did want to keep dancing, I don’t know if it’s physically possible right now. I shuffle past her, but don’t get very far as her hand shoots out, wrapping around my arm and stopping me in my tracks.

“One more time,” she says, no emotion in her voice and without even looking at me. “Just once more.”

I try to think of words to respond with but all that escapes me is a short laugh that sounds more like an exasperated exhale. I use the last remaining slivers of energy I have to jerk out of her grasp, taking a few steps forward to put distance between us as I go to gather my things. I throw my clothes into my bag, not even bothering to cover myself up for the walk back to my room. I’m past the point of caring, and I haven’t checked the time in a while but it’s late enough that there’s barely any light coming in from outside so I doubt many people will be walking around. I attempt to drink some water, but my throat is so dry that it hurts, and I can only cap the bottle to take it back to my room.

“We’re not done yet, River.”

I don’t understand how she can keep going, how her body isn’t falling apart like mine is after the gruelling practice we’ve put in for the past few hours.

“Yes, we are,” I tell her. “We’ve done enough today, Amelie. It’ll be fine.”

“It has to be more than fine,” she snaps, startling me. “I know you’re used to getting everything handed to you, but that’s never worked for me. Some of us actually have to try harder than others to get what we deserve.”

She’s never looked at me like this, fire in her eyes blazing as if she wishes she could burn me alive with just one glance. No matter how many petty arguments we have, how much childish bickering we throw back and forth at each other, there’s never been any actual hatred in it. But now it’s there, and I feel sick.

A low anger rises within me at her unspoken accusation. Her implication that I don’t try as hard as everyone else. Her complete dismissal and disregard for me, even after all of this.

“Don’t pretend you know a thing about how hard I work,” I say as steady as I can, attempting to mask how I really feel, but it’s too much and every frustration I have spills out of me.

“I’ve derailed my life these past two days because of you. I’ve missed classes, ignored calls from my parents, haven’t even spoken to my best friend since we started this.” I stalk closer to her, that anger still building inside me until it feels like I’m going to burst.

“I’ve spent years being bullied for doing something that people think is only for girls, been ridiculed for choosing to do something so feminine instead of a regular sport. People have made assumptions about every aspect of my life, questioned my sexuality as if dancing has a single thing to do with how I might feel about a person.”

I keep going, years of pent-up feelings finally rushing out. I can barely focus on Amelie’s face, her wide eyes and slightly opened mouth, because my vision feels clouded.

“Of course it was easier for me to get parts when I was the only boy in our class, but that made it ten times harder, too. I had to prove that I had the talent to back it up, that I had earned my place instead of it being handed to me just because I’m a boy.”

Amelie stares up at me, and I’m not sure when we got so close to each other, so close that if I keep breathing as hard as I am, my torso will brush against her chest. Her jaw is clenched, hands curled into fists at her side, and I don’t look too closely at her eyes so I can avoid seeing how she really feels about me now that I’ve said too much.

“You don’t know a single thing about me, Amelie, so don’t pretend otherwise.”

I step back from her, stopping myself before I can give her any more ammunition to use against me, before I can expose anymore of myself so deeply to her in a way that I’ll never be able to take back. I grab my bag, keeping my eyes fixed downward so I don’t even catch a glimpse of her in the mirror. I don’t want to see the way she’s looking at me, can’t stand to even see her after realising what she truly thinks of me.

“Will you be there tomorrow?” she asks quietly. “At the audition?”

I should say no, should tell her that I don’t want to do this after all, that it was a mistake to think we could dance together. But as much as I dislike her right now, I can’t let her down when this means so much to her.

“I will.”

I don’t wait for her response before I leave and head back to my room, the adrenaline from my outburst subsiding and the exhaustion creeping back in again. When I unlock my door, all the strength drains from me, and I use my last ounce of it to crawl on top of my bed, passing out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Amelie hasn’t stopped pacing since we got here. She was silent the whole walk from the dorms to the studios, and she still hasn’t said a single word to me. I’ve never seen her so nervous for a performance before. Any time we’ve taken classes together, she’s always been the first to volunteer to demonstrate different moves, perfecting them all on pretty much the first try after seeing it just once. After yesterday, it’s clear that she’s dedicated to ballet in a way that I can only dream of being to anything at all.