Red Pointe Shoes

Chapter 21

A/N Sorry for the wait, I had exams, but they're over now. ^^

Chapter Twenty One

The door clicks shut. I stare at the painted panelling and wonder if it had all been my imagination. Should I go after her? Call her back saying, "Hey, Loyer just gave me this really weird look, so I think it's safer for you to never see him again." Right, that'll go down well. Maybe I'm just overreacting, maybe I'm being paranoid. Or maybe, James Loyer is planning to exact revenge through my best friend. That's not possible, what are the chances of that? I mean, it's not like I'm the stupid heroine in some teen flick, am I? No one goes that far for revenge nowadays. A memory of his poster surfaces, and I suddenly wonder how far he's willing to go. Just to settle my nerves, I wrack my mind for an excuse and texts Nat: Room's a bit messy. Can I clean up your side too? My phone beeps after a few seconds.

Sure, you MAY. ;)

I roll my eyes at her and get to work. It was an excuse at first, but our room is kind of messy. Besides, it will give me something to do so I can get my mind off Loyer for a while. I finish up my side, tucking away my blanket and restacking my books. Old red pointe shoes, the ones I've worn out but can't bear to throw away, have been packed neatly inside a box and shoved under my bed. Just as I'm making sure that there are no spiders lurking under the bed frame, I catch sight of a box that's tucked away under Nat's desk. Normally, I wouldn't have touched it, but it was filled with white, new envelopes that I had never once seen in our mail. Feeling like a jealous girlfriend I grimly walk over to the box and pull it out. The envelopes are dated in Nat's handwriting, pencilled in at the corner. 

"Sorry," Apologising to thin air, I slide open the envelope and pull out the letter: 

Sentential,

That was a very underhanded move you pulled there in the Finals. That's not going to help your standing as a fighter, isn't it? We wouldn't want that to happen. This Thursday, 10' o clock at the Underground.

Dante.

A buzzing fills my ears, blocking out the noises of the world around me. My knees buckle and fold as I sit back against the wall, trying to ignore the spiralling sensation that churns my gut. How? I'd been so careful, making sure no one was around as I made my commute to and from the Underground- heck, I even wore a wig! Disbelieving, I numbly scan the words again. It seems innocent enough, almost to the point of sounding concerned, but I can almost hear the mockery that lies behind the words. Robotically, my hands reach for the next one:

Sentenial,

Enough of the hiding. You're a coward, you know that? You ran from my last challenge, are you going to run from this one too? If you do, rest assured people are going to start seeing you in a less glorious light. Tuesday, 11.30.

Dante

The next few ones are the same, each containing a thinly veiled insult and another time for a rematch- A rematch that I've failed to attend. How did Nat get her hands on these? Did she know of my involvment in the Underground way before yesterday? Why didn't she say anything to me? The letters flit to the ground and lie there unheeded as I scramble for my phone, keying in Nat's number with shaky hands. The dial tone reaches my ear as I hold the phone, praying for her to pick up. I cannot bring myself to care that she's on a date right now, in light of all this. 

"Hi! You've reached me, but I can't pick up right now, so leave a message after the beep!" 

Slamming the phone to my bed in frustration, I get up, shove my feet into a pair of shoes before running out of the room, slamming the door behind me. How long has she been with him? It must be close to an hour now. Nat said they were walking to Abby's, and that wouldn't take longer than ten minutes. I could call Abby right now to check, but then I remember that I've left my phone back in the room. Cursing madly, I rush out of the building, ignoring how I must look in a baggy old shirt and faded bermuda shorts. There's a boy lounging around with his friends, and I alter my course in their direction. "Can I use your phone?"

"What?" He asks, startled and suspicisous. "What do you need it for?"

"It's an emergency," I snap, "now could you lend me your phone?" With a glare, he hands it over and I dial Abby's number. She picks up after a few rings, sounding decidedly worried. "Abby? Yes, it's me. Is Nat there yet? No? Oh- thanks." Disconnecting, I pass the phone back to him before readying to leave. A hand on my shoulder stops me, it's the boy. Then I realise why he seems so familiar- Nat spilled his chips yesterday.

"Hey, if this has got anything to do with your friend, I saw them going down the fourth lane off the main road." He purses his lips grimly, "Loyer never goes for the dancers, so be careful." I barely take a moment to thank him before sprinting off, following his direction. The city around our school is mostly comprised of clothing shops and diners like Abby's, so at dinner time- now, it's fairly crowded with people. The fourth lane down the main road is actually nothing more than a small alley that connects to the others- the backroads where the diners dispose of their waste and whatnot. No streetlamps illuminate the maze, and the light from the closest street lamps cannot combat the pervasive shadows. It seems like the place a dramatic guy like Loyer would go. 

Where are they? I strain my ears for any signs of their presence, but the noise from the main road muffles out softer sounds. Then I hear it- a faint cry, somewhere from my upper left. The lighting grows dimmer as I venture further into the labyrinthian network of alleys, my steps reduce to a slow and soft tread. Even though I'm rushing, I know it's unwise to charge in head on like a headless bull. It seemed almost impossible just now to locate two people in an unknown location, but now it's easy, because I can hear Nat's voice- cursing at Loyer like a drunken sailor. I speed up my pace, anger and adrenaline fueling my movements. Then abruptly, there's a sound of a scuffle and she is cut off. 

They're just around the corner, and from my vantage point, I can see that Loyer has Nat in a sleeper hold, and she's clawing desperately at his arm to get away. "Why not just admit it?" He yells, "Huh, Sentenial? You can get out of this pretty easily, can you? Or are you not the fighter everyone thinks your are?" Nat's face's turning red, and her eyelids were struggling to stay open. I can't wait anymore. There is no shout, no angry proclamation- I charge out at him and wrench my bent leg between the two, extending it in a front thrust kick into his gut that shoves him away from her. Nat falls to the ground, huddled in a ball with her chest bent over her knees. There's an angry shout from behind me and Loyer comes at us with a fist curled at his waist, ready to strike. 

Grabbing Nat, I quickly yank us to the side, where I deposit her against the wall. Then I turn to face him. 

"Who the heck are you?" He demands, eyes glittering in fury.

"My name," I fix him with a steely stare, straightening my shoulders, "is Sentenial."