Page 4 of Power Play

“I’m fine.”

“You walked in here looking like you were about to throw up.”

“I needed water.”

“The fountain is outside.”

I unlocked the stall before she could continue interrogating me through the door. Ashley leaned against the sink, still breathing hard from rehearsal. She was a junior and moved with a precision I studied whenever I thought she wasn’t watching. Her turns were clean, her grades were better than mine, and she never looked as though she’d forgotten why she entered a room.

She folded her arms. “What happened?”

“I missed a transition.”

“I was there.”

“Then the mystery has been solved.”

Her mouth moved as though she wanted to smile, but concern held it back. “Coach has corrected you all week.”

“I know.”

“Are you sleeping?”

“Some.”

“How much is some?”

“I had schoolwork.”

“You always have schoolwork.”

“My father checks my grades every day.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “That sounds exhausting.”

“He’s involved.”

“He’s terrifying.”

“He’s successful.”

“Those aren’t the same thing.”

I moved to the mirror and checked the mascara beneath my lashes. The girl staring back looked pale and frightened. Her mother thought her hips required discipline. Her father thought two hours of studying proved she lacked commitment. Her coach thought one missed transition meant she’d failed the entire line.

I turned sideways.

The skirt pulled differently from that angle. My fingers moved toward the waistband before I caught myself and flattened my hand against the counter.

“What are you doing?” Ashley asked.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve turned around three times.”

“I’m checking the uniform.”

“It fits.”