Page 46 of Healing Eleanor

I clench my fists, fingers curling tight into the thin fabric of my shirt.

And somehow, it all leads back to her.

There are many versions of Sofia, just like there are many versions of most dancers. There’s the one she shows to Margaux, the coaches, and the company—gracious, poised, impossibly sweet. And then there’s the one she keeps hidden beneath a façade of grace—condescending, competitive, and cruel.

Two sides of the same coin. And I didn’t see it coming.

Maybe she saw me as a threat all along.

Every dancer feels some form of competition with the others, but Sofia hid hers so well. There’s no other reason she’d tell on me if it wasn’t for her own gain.

Fatigue sweeps over me the second I step into the apartment. I place my keys on the hook, and I wander into the kitchen to pour myself the biggest glass of ice water I can manage. I chug the water, and place the empty glass in the sink. The thought of making dinner is too much of a task, so I grab a protein bar from the cabinet.

After a quick shower, I change into a pair of pajamas and plop onto my bed, grabbing my journal from my nightstand.

Starting weight: 135.8 lbs

Current weight: 124.4 lbs

Goal: 115 lbs

Date: 8/30/25

Food log:

Breakfast:

Black coffee (no cream): 0 cals

Egg whites (2): 34 cals

Spinach (½ cup): 5 cals

Cherry tomatoes (½ cup): 17 cals

Lunch:

Green tea: 0 cals

Tuna - in water (2 oz): 60 cals

Romaine leaves (2): 10 cals

Cucumber slices (½ cup): 8 cals

Lentil soup (¾ cup): 160 cals

Dinner:

Protein bar: 120 cals

Total calories: 414 cals

It’s been nine days, and I still haven’t heard back from Hollingford. I’m trying not to worry, but my stomach is in knots. After my second run of the day, Mom called… hounding me for answers, then demanding I go to a celebratory dinner for Edward. It’s not that I don’t want to go… I just don’t want the humiliation that comes with it. Basically, Mom micromanaging me in front of my siblings, again. Just once, it would be nice if she approved of my choices.

On my walk home, I saw a couple holding hands. The girl laughed into her boyfriend’s shoulder like he’d just told her the funniest joke in the world, and it made me want to throw up. I thought of all the effort I’ve put into making people like me. But here I am with no real friends, no one to call mine. Just me. Myself. I. And I can’t help but feel sick of it.

Tomorrow is a new day. Maybe Hollingford will call. For my sake, I hope they do.