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“Understand this, Camilla.” His nostrils flare with barely contained rage. “I will find a way to kill him. I just hope this doesn’t mean you’re getting attached again.”
I look at him with wide eyes, unable to hide my surprise at his statement. Is that what this means? That I’m getting attached? It must be, at least a little. I crawled for the asshole, then sucked him off with barely a command. Goddamn, I’m a whore, just the way he told me.
“I won’t get attached to anyone,” I reply defiantly. “Not even you.”
“I don’t care if you do,wife.”
I look down at my delicious plate of food and decide to eat it, even though I might just have indigestion after this stressful conversation. It’s slightly cold, even as I force myself to shove it down my throat and keep going. I chew it slowly, remembering the winter recital and the part I’m trying out for in the spring, and it makes me want to stop eating.
“Are you scared you’ll get fat, Cam?” I peer up to see Leo grinning. He’s evil. “You probably will, you know.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I reply. “I’ll see you later.”
Getting up from the chair, I grab my purse and walk away, not bothering to look back one time as I exit the dining area. Sometimes I truly hate him. Leo is mean on purpose, always hateful toward me when he doesn’t get his way. He must hate me back if he feels the need to constantly put me down, but I don’t even care right now. Right now, I only care about dancing and losing myself in it.
I grab an Uber since I rode here with Leonardo, and go straight to school to my business class. I have to go to the studio to practice for the part I’m auditioning for this week, in exactly fourteen days. Conveniently, I’m getting my degree in dance and business because I can come to the studio whenever I want to practice, which needs to be right after my class. My goal is to teach little ballerinas one day, and hopefully, I get to do that much with my life since I can’t be a professional dancer due to Leo.
Once at school, I make sure to sit in the very middle row, away from prying eyes, so I can pay attention and not have anxiety about the teacher staring right at me. I open my notebook to take notes onLeadership and Communication in an Organization, but in reality, I’m not even listening. Not when Nikolai is staring at me from across the room.
I can’t believe Leo says I have a drug problem. I don’t use coke on the regular, just at parties. It’s a weekend thing, if that. It helps me have energy for a short amount of time. The high barely even lasts. How the hell is it a problem if it’s occasional?
You did it at the engagement party.
Nik wasn’t judging.
Nik.
Great, now I’m thinking about him again. I don’t know why I do this to myself, especially knowing I will not see or talk to him again. I hate to say it, but it almost hurts to do it. I won’t say goodbye or give explanations, being that I know he won’t hear them. Instead, I will have to avoid him at all costs and pretend he doesn’t exist. I know damn well that will only last for so long, though.
I saw the possessive look in his eyes while I rode him, he couldn’t get enough of me. It’s like he needed to breathe all of me in, and that still wasn’t good enough. Unfortunately, I loved every second of it, him,us. Despite all the things I know, he can be very sweet. I want to go to his beach again, the one he took me to. Our new secret spot. This time with proper attire and to fuck in the sand and have it stuck in places it doesn’t belong in, but I can’t. I won’t. I’d be too far in if I did that, and it wouldn’t be justified by me wanting to lure him in for Leo anymore. At that point, it would be personal about me. I refuse to betray my brother in that way.
I snap out of my trance just to see everyone getting up and leaving the classroom. I gather my notebook and pens, close the empty page, and put it back in my bag, then go down the steps to leave the classroom.
“Ms. DeLuca,” the professor, Mrs. Holmes, calls for me. “Someone left this for you.”
I stop in my tracks and turn around, going to her desk, where she’s grabbing something from the floor. She hands me a special edition of ‘The Bell Jar’ by Sylvia Plath and a vase of white peonies mixed with pink peony tulips as well as chocolate-covered strawberries. I chuckle at the jab, knowing damn well he’s making fun of me for not drinking my own shake yet not pressuring me any more than taking one sip. That was the best sip of my life too. Now he gets me my favorite fruit with chocolate—also my favorite.
“Thank you,” I tell the professor. “For holding it for me.”
“No problem.” She nods as I walk away, “Oh, and Ms. Deluca?” I glance at her once more. “Whoever did this for you must really like you.”
My stomach drops at that statement, but I still manage to smile and nod. Let’s just hope this doesn’t get back to my father. The professors are loyal to The Elite, and it could easily be leaked to them.
I walk out of the classroom with my arms full of these gifts that I don’t even know what to do with. The bookshelves in my room only hold poetry books. From Sylvia Plath to the asshole husband Ted Hughes to Edgar Allan Poe, to random ones. I have a lot of poetry books. This one is actually considered a full-length novel, but since it’s Sylvia Plath, of course, I’ve read it. And Nikolai remembered it’s my favorite.
Once at my house, I put my new vase of flowers on my dresser, the special edition on my nightstand, and eat the chocolate-covered strawberries. I groan when I finish them, sitting on my bed to contemplate what to do next. The urge to go out tonight hits me, but I need to go to the studio first.
The lead role in Swan Lake is vital to me; unfortunately, I have some fierce competition. Annie is definitely at the top of the list. I’m hoping there’s no strain between us if either of us gets selected for the role.
I pull out my phone and call Annie, “Hey, slut.” I tell her when she picks up the phone and she chuckles on the other line. “What do you say we go to Platte tonight?” That’s one of the clubs in town.
“You know we’re always down.” She replies, speaking for the rest of our roommates, knowing damn well Giulia will need to be forcibly carried or dragged in order to get her there.
“Alright, I’ll see you all there,” I say as I pack my bag. “I’m driving separately.”
“I bet you are.”
This bitch thinks I’m with Nikolai. No, I’m just dedicated and want this too bad to slack. I can’t afford to not practice every single day. I. Will. Have. This. Role.
