Red Pointe Shoes

Chapter 20

A/N: Quicker update as an apology for the long wait. ^^ It's short though, but my mid years are next week so.. :C

Chapter Twenty

"I don't want to be mad at you anymore."

My head jerks up from the transcript on my table, and my gaze lands on the girl who stands at the door. Her black hair is up in its usual bun, and the strands are falling out like always. Pale pink lips curl into a familiar wry smile as she steps forward, almost hesitantly. I meet her eyes, almost hopefully, happily, but as soon as our eyes touch, my heart sinks. Though her mouth smiles and her arms open for an embrace, there's still something else in her eyes. "So I'm not going to be mad at you."

"Not even scared of me?" I probe, watching her eyes carefully. They flicker as she shakes her head, betraying every word that leaves her mouth;

"Hey, if you wanted to kill me, you'd have done it by now."

Laughing, I pull back from the hug. Then there is a silence, a deep hollow silence even though we start to talk about normal things. We giggle and whisper, acting like we've been separated for a good thirty years. Eventually Nat moves to perch on her bed, and I follow to mine. "Did you know, Linda thought you were sleeping with Evan?" 

"That's stupid!" Nat snorts, slapping her thigh. "Everyone knows that Evan has a thing for Dylan." Dylan is another dancer of ours, a regular of pax de deux class. Evan hates Dylan, because in his words, Dylan is a 'bloody showpony'. I shake my head at the theories Nat can come up with. 

"You're as bad as them!" I accuse, smacking her lightly with my pillow. "That's so untrue, it's plain to see that Evan loves Linda." She snorts, shaking her head at my similar idiocy. "Anyway," My voice drops as I still myself, leaning forward like I'm about to fly off into a round of grand jetes, "have you heard from Evan?" Something akin to pity enters her eyes as she shakes her head, tossing the loose strands of hair back and forth.

"Nope, none at all." My stomach drops, but I swallow the disappointment and shrug. "Anyway, I need to shower now, I've got a date for later." Perking up slightly, I demand a name, but she laughs me off with a cryptic "You'll see". I've got nothing better to do for the rest of the evening so I decide to wait around and take a look at Nat's new boyfriend. For a moment I'm peeved that this is the first I've heard of it, but considering the thing's I've kept, this is still okay. About half an hour passes, and the bathroom door opens dramatically, slamming against the wall. 

"Oops?" Nat stands behind it, cringing with an arm half reaching out, "It slipped." I take a moment to admire my friend, who looks simply marvelous even though she's standing like an awkward puppy. Her dress is made out of two layers- a slip of ocean blue satin, and a delicate arrangement of silver grey chiffon falls over it like a frothy wave. "How do I look?"

"Like the Atlantic. Where are you going?"

She takes a moment to glare at me before replying with a wink, "Abby's."

"Poor boy," I whistle, just in time to coincide with the knocking on the door. "Anyway, the faster you go, the less he has to suffer. Go have fun!" Before she can find time to dig up a suitable insult, I'm yanking on the door handle to reveal her date. The first thing I see of him isn't his face- it's his neck. 

I seem to have forgotten to mention something over the course of this story- another reason I hate James Loyer is because he is ridiculously tall. I'm counted as tall for a ballerina, and it's obvious I tower over poor Evan on pointe, so when someone like James Loyer is taller than me- it really just rubs me the wrong way. Do you understand? 

Looking into the pores of his Adam's apple, which is bobbing slightly now with amused chuckles, I have a sudden urge to punch it. "Nat," I mutter rebelliously, feeling cheated and betrayed at the same time, "he's not a dancer." It sounds awfully prejudiced of me, but anything more would tip him off, and that's definitely a no-no. She catches my eye and shakes her head, like a mother would at a child who doesn't understand. 

"Does your friend have a problem with me?" Loyer asks, his voice unfailingly smooth and charming. Nat smiles in response and links her arm through his. 

"No, she's just a little culture shocked." She laughes and reaches in to ruffle my hair, "I'll be safe, okay Ave?" It's a simple question, but the weight of it resonates in my ears. Her eyes are asking my permission, and at this moment I know that if I refuse or beg her to stay, she surely will. A ringing begins in my ears- who am I to dictate her life for her? Her choices? Numbly, I shake my head. My friend has decided to trust me again, so I should return the favour. Her shoulders relax and she gives me a radiant smile. "Bye!"

The door starts to swing shut, and before it does, Loyer gives me one small look of certain triumph.