“One minute,” she said as she fell into step with me. “And I’m only going so I can give Bianca a piece of my mind. I don’t know who she thinks she is talking to my best friend like that.”
“Just ignore her,” I said. “That’s what I do.”
Olivia huffed. “Yeah,but you have to take the high road since your mom runs this place. I mean, heaven forbid you incur the wrath of the school’s biggest donor.”
“Exactly.” My mom never outright said it but it was understood that we both had a job at this school. Hers was to run it, and mine was to keep my head down and make life easier for everyone around here. That meant chipping in with cleanup and laundry duties, helping with some office work, and—most importantly—not making enemies out of the spoiled brats this school relied on for money.
My mom and I might have had our issues, but we were still a team. After my dad left and it was just the two of us, we became more like partners in a lot of ways. Which was why it was still nagging at me that she’d been stressing over something lately and not telling me about it.
“You know, half the time, I don’t even know what she’s doing here,” Olivia grumbled, interrupting my thoughts.
I looked over at her in surprise. “Who…Bianca? She’s the most ambitious dancer in the school.”
Olivia shrugged. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that she’s always so miserable.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I don’t know…maybe she’s just a miserable person.”
As I said it, my mind called up an image of Ethan as he’d talked about his dad and all the pressure he was under at home. For a second there, I’d genuinely felt for the guy. No matter what his motives in calling me beautiful…I didn’t doubt that he’d been honest about everything else.
All he wanted was to play music. And if anyone couldunderstand needing that kind of outlet, it was me. I let out a long exhale as I realized, I didn’t really have a choice. If Ethan needed a place to play, I’d help him.
Oblivious to where my thoughts had gone, Olivia launched into a tirade about how Bianca was going to get a massive wake-up call one day once karma kicked in.
I hoped she was right, but I wasn’t banking on it.
I reached out and threaded my arm through Olivia’s as we drew close to the dance studios. I was grateful for her support. She always seemed to know exactly what I needed. When I needed a wing-woman, she would always step up to the plate.
I pushed open the large doors that separated the school from the academy. I could hear giggling and whispers as I made my way down the hall to Mom’s office. All the dancers were clustered in front of the bulletin board—Bianca was at the center of them.
We stopped on the outskirts of the semicircle, but I couldn’t make out what they were all staring at. Thankfully, Eve had wiggled her way out of the crowd and I flagged her down.
“What did Mom post?” I asked.
Eve’s eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed. Excitement flitted around in her gaze as she studied me. “Apparently, some scouts from Juilliard are coming to pick a dancer to perform with the company this fall.” Her voice was breathy and she hung onto me like she wouldfloat away if she let go.
I almost laughed out loud. The thought of me being an anchor—hit home a little too hard.
“So…” Olivia asked as she leaned in.
One of the taller girls in front of me shifted and I could read the announcement for myself. “So, everyone in the academy is going to get a chance to perform in front of the most prestigious dance school in the country,” I whispered.
Eve squealed as she tightened her grip on my arm. “This is just what I need. An opportunity like this will only solidify my chances for a scholarship next year.” She looked to me and Olivia, her expression was filled with hope, but her eyes held a hint of desperation. “Right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”
“For sure,” Olivia added, her voice filled with encouragement.
Eve wasn't like Bianca. Or Olivia, for that matter. Eve’s family didn’t have the funds to send her here. To buy her way in. Every semester, she had to prove her worth to the school or they would pull her funding.
I couldn't imagine the kind of stress she was under. If I met the requirements to be a ballerina, I was a shoo-in. Mom wouldn’t settle for anything less.
“Are you going to try?” Olivia asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
I glanced over at her, confused about what she was asking. “Am I going to try what?” I asked as I tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Try out. It’s for everyone, right? I mean, why not you?”
My cheeks heated as a few of the younger dancers that were within earshot glanced over at us. I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me as I felt their gaze drop to my body—that was covered in Alfredo sauce.
