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She reached into her bag to pull out a jar. “This is for the aches and pains. I was going to say you pissed me off, but I hope you dance like that at the gala. When you shine, we all do. I’d rather be backup to a great dancer than a second-rate leader. But watch out. Next time you will have to fight me for a spot.”
There were a few nods from everyone as they gathered their things, leaving one by one. When they were done, I collapsed on the floor.
Only a few more days, and this would be all over.
“Your mother was a dancer for the American Ballet Theatre?”
Rolling over, I saw the brace on Violet’s leg before I saw her face. Mentally, I groaned, getting back up. I can’t catch a break today.
“Yes, she was,” I muttered, taking my bag.
“What was her name?”
“Why does it matter?” I tried to move past her, but she clenched on to my arm.
“Who are you?” She glared at me. “You come in out of the blue. You have Theo wrapped around your finger, and now you’ve stolen my spot.”
Ripping my arm from her, I took a step away. “I didn’t steal anything. Your knee is ruined, and you can’t dance. I’m sorry. It sucks, but I didn’t do that to you.”
“And you got close to Theo so you could dance, right? You planned it from the start—”
“I know you and Theo once had relationship, but I didn’t ruin that for you either.”
Her jaw clenched. She pulled back her hand to slap me, but I snatched it.
“What, are we in a soap opera? You go around slapping people now? Get over yourself, Violet. The world does not revolve around you.” Dropping her hand, I left to get away from her.
“Something about you isn’t right, and I’m going to find out—”
“Goodbye, Violet!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Calm
Felicity
11:10 p.m.
I shot out of bed, running straight to the bathroom. Once again I was on my knees, my face in the toilet, puking. Once again my head felt like it was going to explode, and I was coated in sweat.
“Felicity?” Mark sat beside me. “The gala is in less than twenty-four hours. You need to get real sleep and eating something more than nuts.”
“Between my nightmares and my nerves, I don’t know how.” I picked myself up off the floor. Looking into the mirror, all I could see were the bags under my eyes and how horrible my skin looked.
“Maybe you should go to—”
“No doctors.”
“I wasn’t going to say the doctor. I know how you feel about them. I was going to say Theo.”
Not replying, I take my toothbrush.
“You were muttering something about him in your sleep. You won’t talk to Cleo or me. You need someone.”
Reaching for the mouthwash, I poured it into the cup.
“Especially someone who texts you to make sure you’re all right, even when you’ve shot them down.”
