Page 32 of Healing Eleanor

I dip my chin in response. It’s apparently the wrong choice, because her smile falters just a little. Guilt flares in my chest anyway. Am I being rude? Maybe. But just because Scarlett’s being kind now doesn’t mean it won’t come back to bite me later. I’ve learned to be cautious. She should understand that.

“Do you have the address?” she asks, her smile dutifully fading.

I nod again and type it into the GPS, already bracing myself for the long drive.

For the first ten minutes, the car is silent. The city blurs past the windows, and I stare out at the awakening sky, hands clasped in my lap, nerves creeping higher into my throat.

“How did you sleep?” Scarlett asks, keeping her eyes on the road.

I let out a soft sigh. “Not great.”

“I figured.” She glances over briefly. “You’re way quieter than usual.” She worries her bottom lip, then gives a small shrug. “And… It’s a big day. I’m sure the nerves aren’t helping.”

I give a small nod, staring out the window. “It just feels like everything is riding on this. Like if I don’t get it, that’s it… That’s the end of the road.”

She doesn’t even understand the worst of it. If I don’t nail this audition today, I have no idea what I’ll do with my life. I’m not smart like her or Edward. I could never be a nurse. Or a judge, for that matter.

Ballet is the only thing I’ve ever been good at. And without it, all I have left is Forma, and that’s not exactly something to brag about.

“It’s not,” she says gently. “But I get why it feels that way.” She glances at me, drawing in a steady breath. “You can’t let Mom get in your head, El.”

I recoil, thrown by the fact that she isn’t defending Mom for once.

“Easy for you to say.” I scoff. “She won’t disown you for quitting nursing. But she would obliterate me if I quit ballet.” My voice drops. “Because at the end of the day… what am I without it?”

Scarlett goes quiet, likely searching for an answer she won’t find.

“Exactly,” I state flatly.

She stays silent a few seconds longer before finally speaking. “I think you have so much to offer the world, Eleanor,” she voices carefully. “But you’ll never find it if you keep looking through rose-colored glasses.”

I turn toward her, brow arched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She keeps her eyes on the road. “I know how badly you want this. I do. But you’ve never explored anything outside of ballet. Not boys. Not school. Not even getting into trouble.” She exhales. “Your whole life has been consumed by it, and I just… I don’t want you to fail and be left with nothing.”

Something sharp twists in my chest. I know she means it sincerely, and that somehow makes it worse.

“You know, Scarlett, if I wanted Mom to bring me, I would’ve asked her,” I say, slouching back in my seat.

“El,” she sighs.

But I cut her off before she can continue. “I get it, Scarlett. There’s no need to explain yourself.”

The rest of the drive passes in near silence. I use it to focus on the audition ahead, on the steps and combinations I’ve drilled into my body for years, rather than picking apart my life with Scarlett as the judge and jury.

By the time we pull into the small parking lot beside Hollingford Ballet Company’s old brick building, the sun finally appears through the clouds.

I stare up at the entrance. Clean brick. Polished glass. Banners displaying elegant dancers suspended mid-air. My heart thumps wildly in my chest.

“This is it,” Scarlett says, putting the car in park.

I school my features. “Yeah.”

“Call me when you’re done. I’ll be nearby to pick you up.”

I don’t know what to say. So instead, I open the door, reach into the backseat for my bag, and step out toward what could either make or break my future.

As I walk toward the doors, everything inside me tightens. I inhale a deep breath and step inside.