By the end of lunch, Mike and Talia had gotten the group down to around twenty, depending on who could get permission. Rugby season had just started, so a lot of the guys couldn’t come this time. The basketball team had just finished their championship tournament, so I was going to get a chance to meet some of those guys. I thought about the guy Sean told me about and laughed; he probably wasn’t invited.
On my way to Yearbook with Mckayla, I stopped in my tracks. Dread filled me as I remembered I couldn’t go this weekend.
Mckayla turned back to me as I threw my head back and groaned. “What’s wrong with you?” She took another step toward me, blocking people to prevent them from running into me.
“Dance. I completely forgot about that. I have practice with the company team; there’s no way I can miss it.”
She raised a brow. “Then how is Cassie going? She wouldn’t miss practice either.”
I snapped my head back. “What do you mean?”
“Cassie is coming. She already gave Talia her money to reserve her spot. Text her and find out what’s going on.”
I had my phone out before she’d finished talking. I sent a quick message asking Cassie if I was missing something. We continued to class, and as we sat down my phone buzzed.
I read the message and laughed. I really needed to stop stressing so much. Maybe then I could remember things and not walk around in la-la land.
I held my phone out so Mckayla could read it discreetly as Mrs. Gonzalez read through the roll, marking those of us that bothered to show up for this “class.”
“So you don’t have practice? Why didn’t you know that?”
“Probably because I’ve been spacey lately. We have a double practice on Thursday to make up for it. That’s going to kill me, but at least I can go this weekend!”
“You definitely need a vacation. Let’s go grab a camera and get out of here.”
Maybe I needed to take up yoga to calm down. As if I had time for that.
I followed Mckayla out of class, and we meandered pointlessly around campus chatting about the trip.
We were walking past the gym when an obnoxious catcall came from behind us. I didn’t want to turn around, but Mckayla was already walking back. I rolled my eyes and turned to see Tucker standing with one of his teammates.
“Hello, ladies. You’re both looking fine today.” He winked as my stomach turned. I couldn’t believe I’d thought he was attractive at the airport.
Mckayla laughed it off. She was used to his teasing and had once promised me he was harmless. “Hi, Tucker. Andy, what are you doing hanging out with this loser? You’re better than this.”
The guys laughed. They probably enjoyed getting any attention from a girl as gorgeous as her. She reached out and pulled on my arm, bringing me closer to the group.
“Andy, have you met my cousin? Aubrey, this is Andy. Don’t judge him based on his choice in friends.”
I met his gaze and smiled. He was taller than Tucker and had short brown hair. He was cute in the typical athlete way. I think height will do that to any guy.
“Hi, Andy.”
“Nice to finally meet the infamous Aubrey. I’ve heard a lot about you. Sorry for not introducing myself earlier.” He looked down at me with a friendly smile.
Tucker stepped forward, interrupting. “We’ve been pretty busy winning the championships, but now we have more time to play.” He winked at me again. Gross.
Andy shook his head as if similarly disappointed in his friend. “We’re coming this weekend, so maybe we can hang out there.” He didn’t direct the comment specifically to me, so I just smiled.
Luckily, Mckayla responded. “Yeah, of course. This is Aubrey’s chance to meet everyone. We’ll see you guys later.”
We turned and walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to make commitments to people I didn’t know. I wanted to hang out with my friends this weekend, not worry about making introductions. Dang the cost of meeting new people.
We walked back into class moments before the bell rang. Once again, Mrs. Gonzalez barely acknowledged us or asked where we’d been.
I was dreading Chemistry. Just a few weeks ago it had been my favorite class of the day, but that was before Luke dumped me. Now it was an hour of trying not to look at him and pretending there wasn’t an awkward tension between us.
It wasn’t fair to assume, especially since he was the one that ended things, but I felt like he hated me. One of the girls in my dance class told me he had gone out with her friend the week after formal, so it wasn’t like he was hung up on me. Apparently it was my fault that someone broke into my apartment and reminded me of my past stalker. Yep, I would totally plan that. The attention I got that night was definitely worth the lack of sleep and shattered sense of security I’d had since then.
I looked down at my notebook and frowned. We might have only gone out a few times, but I’d always had fun with him. Things felt so natural between us. I would never tell the girls, but I missed him. And his smile.
I didn’t need to ask to know that he wasn’t invited. Things between him and Mike had grown worse for a little while, but now they didn’t even bother glaring each other down like they used to. They simply don’t exist to each other.
I tried to pay attention to Mr. Steen, but a few minutes into his lecture I let my mind wander. I thought about the note and tried for the billionth time to figure who could have put it in my room and why. Just like every other time, I came up with nothing.
The final bell rang and I gathered my things and pushed out the door before Luke could stand up. Interacting with him wasn’t something I could handle today.
I made it to my car quickly and slipped behind the wheel before the rest of the students made it to the lot. Dance was the perfect distraction, and I wanted to get there as quickly as possible. Well, that and I didn’t want to have to talk to anyone. I needed a few moments to compose myself and shake off the feelings that lingered after every time I saw Luke.
Chapter 3
Despite competition season being right around the corner, the studio was peaceful. Well, what I considered peaceful. There was a mixture of music floating in the air as I made my way to the back room. I stole a peek into the first class I passed.
Toddlers dressed in light pink leotards were spinning at random intervals. It was adorable to watch them try to master the beginning steps, and the instructor looked like she was doing her best not to laugh.
I continued on with a smile on my face. This world was so much easier to navigate. There were no boys that had broken my heart. Nothing to make Brandon stress over me. Here I was free to let go of my day and be around people that felt the same way.
The changing rooms were all open since I’d gotten here early, so I took my pick and dressed out for my first class. I had turned on the music and begun stretching before the other girls started congregating in the room. Cassie sat next to me on the ground and began stretching as well.
“You’re here early. You’re usually rushing in right before class starts.” She smiled like she was joking, but she was right.
“I snuck out of the lot without seeing anyone.”
She laughed quietly. “Ah, so Mike didn’t stop you and ask you if you were okay, safe, happy, warm . . .”
I couldn’t help but stop her by sticking my tongue out. “Whatever.”
We both laughed, but stopped when our instructor walked in. Miss Amy was strict and did not allow any sort of distraction in her class, including laughing or enjoying life in any form. The only thing that made me tolerate her was her choreography.
With competitions starting soon, there was no room for error. Our ballet routine was immensely difficult, but when all the girls were on time it could be flawless. We had been warned at our last class that today was going to be grueling.
We ran through our stretches and warm-ups before Miss Amy stopped the music. “In position. Now.”
She didn’t have to yell to get our attent
ion. We scrambled into our opening formation, and waited. She slowly made her away around the group, analyzing every detail of every girl. She didn’t speak as she tapped various body parts with her wooden pointer. I sometimes thought she could use that as a weapon if she wanted. Like an old schoolteacher.
Once we were all in perfect form, she leaned back on the barre, facing us. She stared us down for a few uncomfortable seconds, then began tapping out counts. At the beginning of the second eight count, we began to move as one.
We made it through two full eight counts before she stopped us. This was going to be a long class.
“Are you girls even trying?”
A couple of the girls dropped their heads, knowing they had messed up. It was too soon into practice to get down. If they gave up now, we would never make it through the full routine, and we would pay for it later.
“I feel like I’m watching the toddlers down the hall.” Well, that was unnecessarily harsh. “Move back to the opening formation.”
Without uttering a sound, we backtracked into the positions we had just left.
“If you are all ready to begin, let’s try this again. This will be perfected at the end of this class, or you will all be coming in on your Saturday off.” A few of the girls around me gasped. My eyes shot up and met Cassie’s. She looked just as shocked as I felt. We would miss the trip if we couldn’t get this together.
“Again. Five-six-seven-eight . . .”
This time I could feel the girls around me straining to get every move right. We made it more than halfway through the routine before we were stopped.
“Again.”
We hurried back to the starting formation and waited to be counted in.
This pattern continued for over thirty minutes. We were already over the class time, but with no class after ours, Miss Amy felt she could keep us as long as necessary.
“Are you all trying to frustrate me?”
I turned my back to her with my hands on my hips and rolled my eyes. She might have choreographed this, but she wasn’t the one sweating like a beast and repeating the same steps over and over again. We had only made it through the full routine twice, and neither had met her approval.
I looked around at the other girls and saw they looked as tired as I was. Cassie’s curly hair had escaped her bun and was sticking to her face and neck. Despite her petite size, she looked ready to fight our willowy instructor.
Miss Amy stood at the front of the room, shaking her head. “It’s like you all want to lose. I don’t see one ounce of determination or fight in any of you.”
I could feel the anger rolling off the entire group. This might be an effective method if we were doing an emotional contemporary dance, or maybe hip hop, but she was just throwing us all off. How could she expect us to be poised when we were shaking with rage?
“I will give you all one more chance. We will do it once more through counts, then with the music.” Finally! “If you can pull it together through that, I will let you go.”
I took a deep breath and held it as I walked back. Slowly, I released it as I rolled my shoulders trying to relax. I wanted to encourage the girls around me, but I knew better than to speak in Miss Amy’s class. We would all be doing wall sits until the studio closed.
The run-through went without mistake, and we reassembled to do it again with the music. If only telepathy would work in this moment. One more time, ladies!
The classical music flowed through the speakers, and Miss Amy counted us in with a glare on her face.
I had to remind myself to breathe because I was so nervous. I just wanted to go home and soak in my tub for the rest of the night, and only three minutes of dancing separated me from that dream.
The music faded out, and I realized we had finished without being interrupted. Either we did it well enough, or so bad she was speechless. I took a glance around and saw the others anxiously waited for the verdict.
“That was fine. You may leave.”
She said it completely devoid of emotion, but that was the most encouragement we could expect. We stood silent for a moment before cheers broke out. One girl collapsed to the ground, sobbing. I joined in one gross, sweaty group hug before breaking away. I grabbed my bag and didn’t bother with changing. I had my sights set on getting home, and not even putting on sweats could slow me down.
☼ ☼ ☼
I froze in the doorway into my home. I could hear someone shuffling through the kitchen. It was early evening. There was no way Brandon would be home already, what with the project he was working on. I dropped my bags outside of the door and slipped off my sandals, grabbed my phone with one hand, and eased the door open with the other.
Making as little sound as possible, I snuck farther in. With my back against the wall at the end of the entry hall, I peeked around the corner. There wasn’t anyone in the kitchen, but a flash of movement caught my attention. It was at the entrance of my room.
My heart pounded within my chest. I pushed my hand against it, trying to calm down. I took a deep breath and held it as I strode silently through the kitchen. Luckily, ballet had made me light on my feet and aware of the noise I made.
At the other end of the room I paused, waiting to hear anything from my room. Nothing.
Was this the same person that left the note? Glancing around the kitchen, I spotted a large knife sticking out of the block. I grabbed it and pressed myself back against the counter. Looking down, I remembered the phone in my hand. I contemplated calling 911, but decided against it. You could only cry wolf so many times before you’re deemed delusional; I knew that from experience.
Counting to three, I prepared myself to enter my room. On three, I turned and slipped in. I padded my way across the carpet, looking around. Nothing was out of place, and no one was there. I looked behind and cursed myself for standing in the open.
I hurried back to the door and looked to my right. There were two more options: my bathroom or my closet. Squeezing the knife for courage I reached out for the knob closest to me. Slowly, painfully slow, I turned it. There was one creak. I paused, looking around to see if there was any movement. When it proved quiet, I twisted ever so slowly.
Suddenly there was a slam from the bathroom. I dropped the doorknob and brought the knife up with both hands, keeping it in front of my body.
I heard quiet footsteps coming from the bathroom. I turned toward the noise and froze. Panic flooded in. This was it. Silently, I crossed one leg over the other, moving closer to the door. Just when I was ready to turn into the room, a body slammed into me.
I fell back to the ground, landing hard. The knife flew from my hands, landing too far away for me to reach. Spots filled my vision from hitting my head. Dread filled me as I lay on the ground, helpless.
Before I could scream, two hands grasped my arms.
“Aubrey!”
I shook my head, trying to clear my vision. I twisted, trying to escape my captor. Just as I brought my knee up, one of the hands dropped from my arm and wiped away the tears falling from my eyes. I looked up and saw concerned blue eyes. It was not the face of evil, or Morgan. It was Carter.
“Aubrey, calm down!”
My body, now filled with relief, shook. My insides trembled as I lost control of my body. I collapsed back onto the ground despite Carter’s efforts to hold me up.
He held my head in one hand and brushed tears away with the other.
“Breathe, Bree. I need you to breathe.”
I tried to focus on his words, but images flashed in my mind of being attacked in the dark. Feeling a hand grab me and a needle slip into me.
I could feel myself slipping away. From somewhere in the distance I heard Carter swear. The hand that had been soothing away the tears was gone.
There was a mumbled conversation. He sounded angry, or was it concern? It no longer mattered as I let the darkness take over.
☼ ☼ ☼
I opened my eyes and found myself staring at the ceiling. I tried to sit up, bu
t strong hands held me down. I looked to where they came from and saw an EMT kneeling next to me.
“Aubrey, I need you to stay lying down for a few minutes, okay?” Despite his strength, he had a very gentle voice. I was too tired to fight back anyway, so I remained still and continued my inventory of the room.
We were in my bedroom, and I was lying on the ground. Odd. That didn’t explain why an EMT was holding me down. I turned my head, looking for someone familiar. Finally, my eyes connected with Brandon. He was home? It was too early, wasn’t it?
I felt my heart speed up. What was wrong? He wouldn’t be home unless something bad happened. I tried to remember what happened, but I only had glimpses of the day. Waking up with the girls. School. Dance. Then nothing.
Finally, the EMT that was looking me over sat back. “Aubrey, can you tell me what happened?”
He was the one that showed up here, shouldn’t he tell me?
“I remember dance.”
“Nothing after that?”
I tried to sit up, and this time no one stopped me. Once I was up, I looked down. I was only wearing my leotard and tights. Lovely.
“Um, no. Dance went late because we couldn’t get the routine right.”
He nodded. “You don’t remember coming home?”
I shook my head.
Brandon made his way to my side and sat down. He handed me a sweatshirt, which I slipped on gratefully. “You must have hit your head pretty hard.” He turned back to the EMT. “Should we take her to the hospital?”
Before I could refuse, the EMT shook his head. “Her vitals are fine. She might have a slight concussion, but she should be just fine. Give her time to relax.” He stood and began collecting his things as his partner continued writing on a pad.
Brandon stood and offered me both hands. I held on as he pulled me up and lifted me. He carried me to my bed and then set me down before turning and leading the others out of my room.
I watched as they retreated, then fell back into my pillows. What had happened? I had a killer headache and my back hurt. Was that just from dance? Was I just overly exhausted? There was no way Brandon would let me go this weekend after this episode.
Live Again Page 2