She turned to me with her brows drawn together likeI’d just grown a second head. “What? No.” She took a step toward me, her ponytail swinging over her shoulder. “You’re not a dancer because you’re not cut out for it.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I’m not built for it. You and my mother and everyone else has been telling me that for years. I get it.”
“Clearly you don’t,” she snapped. “I didn’t say you weren’t built for it. I said you weren’t cut out for it. There’s a difference.”
I didn’t want to listen to her. I didn’t need to hear this, and yet…a little part of me was curious.
She sighed loudly, not trying to hide her exasperation. “Your body is…whatever. It’s fine. But if you’re going to quit at the first sign of an obstacle? Then clearly you’re not cut out for the life of a dancer.”
I stared at her. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? “Youare saying that my body is ‘fine.’” I’d used air quotes and she arched her brows as she looked at my hands in the air.
She shrugged. “Yeah, I mean it’s not ideal, but people have made it in the dance world with worse handicaps thanhips.”
My mouth was definitely hanging open now. “You…you—” I drew in a deep breath and tried again. “You’ve been telling me I’m too fat foryears.”
Bianca shrugged. Sheshrugged. “So? Kids at my old school called me skeletor all of junior high, you don’thear me moaning about it.”
I gaped at her but her expression was bland, like she honestly didn’t get what the big deal was.
“You’re cruel to me?—”
“No, I’m honest with you,” she said simply. Throughout all of this her voice never rose and her cheeks never flushed. She looked so unperturbed, so unflustered. It made me want to pull her hair until she screamed.
“People will call you fat,” she said over her shoulder as she fiddled with the knobs on the stereo. “Especially in the ballet world which is crazy, I mean, let’s face it, there will always be someone skinnier or better than you” She stood up and brushed her hands on her tights, like this was a common place in dance. She was prepared for it, why wasn’t I?. “And some people will call me skinny, and they’ll call Eve short and they’ll call Tilly stupid and…” She threw her hands up in disgust. “What are you going to do? Run away every time your feelings get hurt?”
I blinked at that because I had no answer.
She seemed to know it, too, because she went over to her bag and started rustling through it like we were done and she was ready to move on.
Except we weren’t. I wasn’t close to being done. I felt like everything I thought about myself, my future, had already been set in stone. Hearing I could change fate—from Bianca, no less—was, unsettling.
“I don’t—” I started, not even sure what I wanted to say. “I didn’t mean to?—”
She mercifully cutme off with a loud, exasperated sigh. “Do us both a favor and save the heart-to-hearts for your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said automatically. The moment I did, it all came rushing back. The sadness. The hurt. The confusion.
“Well, that’s your own dumb fault.” Yup, that was Bianca. Always the sweetheart.
I started to walk away. “It’s not that simple.” She didn’t know everything, even if she believed otherwise. Sure, I could accept my weight with some work, but none of that mattered if the school was shut down.
But no matter how much I wanted to throw that in her face, I couldn’t. I had to bite my tongue and just let her think the only issue standing between me and dancing was my weight.
“Uh huh,” she muttered. “Whatever you say.”
I should walk away. I should just leave and ignore her and?—
“He could have anyone he wanted.” I hated my stupid mouth for blurting it out like that. As if Bianca didn’t already think I was pathetic.
She turned slowly to face me, crossing her arms like she was settling in for another unwanted conversation. Everything about her demeanor was patronizing and annoying and…honest.
At least she was honest with me.
Olivia and Ethan—they see what they want to see.They cared about me too much to give the harsh truth. And right now, that was what I wanted.
I pursed my lips and started again. “He can have any girl he wants?—”
“But he wants you.” She finished my sentence with a shrug. Like it was so obvious. Like it wasn’t totally crazy.
