Page 16 of Healing Eleanor

“Soren… well, he—” I stumbled. “He asked me to sleep with him in exchange for becoming principal.”

“Did you say yes?” she asked, calm and steady.

“No, I didn’t say yes.” I scoffed. “I didn’t even get the chance to say no. He sent me back to rehearsals before I could respond. Someone overheard—”

“Why would you say no, Eleanor?” she exploded. “You’ve been working toward this your entire life! You should’ve taken the opportunity.”

Time warped into a glassy, unmoving frame. “Wait—what? You wanted me to say yes?”

The question sat between us like a lit match. However she answered it would either douse or spark the flame.

She lowered her voice, almost to a whisper. “You should have said yes. You take the opportunities you’re given and run with them. What, do you think every ballerina earns her place in an honorable way?” Her laugh was short and bitter. “These things require sacrifice,” she hissed, “and you failed.”

I tried to tell myself she was joking. That she didn’t actually expect me to pimp myself out for a bigger paycheck.

“Did you not hear me say someone overheard? She went to Margaux. It wouldn’t have mattered—”

“Oh, it would’ve mattered,” she said. “If you’d agreed, he could’ve fixed it. You think you’re the first dancer he’s approached? Please.”

I offered no response. There was never a time I’d won an argument with her.

She exhaled sharply. “You better hope another company takes you, Eleanor. It’s not just about talent anymore. You need to be perfect—fit, driven, tireless. You can’t stop dancing just because you’re out of work.” She paused, letting her words burrow deep within me. “And I don’t need to tell you how disappointed I am. I can only hope you find somewhere willing to take you. Though most companies…” Her voice turned to ice, “…don’t take in stray dogs, let alone hire an overweight ballerina.”

Then the line went dead. I stared at my phone, her final words ricocheting through my thoughts.

No one will hire an overweight ballerina.

Little did she know that I wasn’t giving up, I was determined to find a new company, and lose the weight I needed to become noticeable.

She could either sit back and watch me, or swallow her pride when I shined. Either way, I was going to be everything she thought I wasn’t capable of being.

I get up from my bed and wander into the living room. My laptop waits patiently on the coffee table. I scoop it up, sink into the couch, and pull a blanket over me, settling in with a quiet exhale.

I search every ballet company within reach. From those just a few miles away to ones hours outside the city. I scroll through websites and scan the audition pages. I don’t care how far I have to go within the state of New York.

After searching for half an hour, I finally find a company accepting applications. Hudson Edge Ballet Company isn’t far from where I live. It’s perfect.

I hastily open my email to send my inquiry.

My mouse hovers over the send button, and my stomach dances with butterflies. I read my email twice and I make sure all my attached links and information are there. I hit send.

There’s no going back now.

You have got to be kidding me.

Weeks of carefully planned scheduling—gone. Training slots vanish like they never existed.

Normally, I’m not too upset over a co-worker making this kind of mistake, but it takes me hours to fix it. Hours I don’t have. Which means I missed two conditioning sessions.

And to make matters worse, Julian—of all people—decides to walk in.

He saunters into the gym like he owns it. His sweats are perfectly slouched, his hair artfully gelled. Seriously, who gels their hair for training? And his stupid duffel bag, monogrammed in gold, as if he’d ever forget who it belongs to.

I duck behind the computer, hoping he won’t notice me, but it’s too late. The weasel’s eyes catch mine.

“Montgomery,” he exclaims, walking up to the front desk.

I keep my head low behind the computer, hoping he’ll just walk past and leave me alone. But alas, my day’s destined to get worse.