Chapter 40

Celeste

Amid the hustle and bustle of school life, a looming dance competition, and the myriad of demands that came with it, there was Sabrina and her incessant errands.

If anyone asked me to describe my life at that time, it would be one chaotic swirl with a dance spotlight in the center and Sabrina’s demanding voice echoing in the background.

My thoughts, outside of school and Sabrina’s increasingly taxing errands, were consumed by the upcoming competition. For what felt like the first time in a long time, I didn’t think about Matt or even Jack. Practice hours had doubled, and every spare moment found me either in front of a mirror, perfecting a move, or in the library, grabbing a moment of respite.

However, Sabrina’s demands were getting more incessant. It started out with simple requests: pick up dry cleaning, call the maintenance person for Sabrina’s apartment, grab her coffee on the way to class. However, it quickly became more and more demanding, and it was bordering on verbally abusive.

“Why haven't you gotten me my lunch yet? I told you, chicken salad, not turkey!”

“Celeste, you’re such an idiot! This is my history textbook, not my calculus textbook!”

“Seriously? There’s still a stain on my car seat! Clean the whole car again!”

It felt like a relentless game, and I was the unwilling pawn. I didn’t know exactly why she was getting more aggressive, but I knew two things: for starters, she was clearly taking something out on me. Secondly, it was all bound to come to a head at some point.

How much longer could I keep being her errand girl before she eventually spilled my secret?

One day, as I was hurrying through the corridors with an armful of Sabrina’s books, Fiona slid up next to me. “Are you her personal assistant now?” she asked, half-joking, half-serious as she nodded her head toward the pile of books.

“It sure feels like it,” I replied, exasperated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. But I signed up for this, all for the sake of…”

“I know,” Fiona said with disdain in her voice. She took some of the books off of the stack, easing my burden. “But just know that when you’ve eventually had enough, I’ll be here to weather the storm with you. Remember my proposition.”

A thankful smile spread across my face. “Thanks, Fi. I really needed to hear that.”

A few weeks ago, Fiona had suggested that I leave Jack behind and move in with her. But I couldn’t get out from under his thumb; not yet. I still needed money, a job, safety. It just wasn’t plausible yet, and besides; I still had hope that my brother would relax eventually.

I still had a feeling that there was just something he wasn’t telling me, and maybe if I could get it out of him, he would loosen up.

The day of the competition felt like a dream. The gymnasium was a sea of color, motion, and anticipation. Everywhere I looked, dancers donned in identical outfits were putting on masks, obscuring their identities and lending an air of mystery to the event.

As I stretched alongside my teammates, Fiona approached, her face stretched by an excited grin. “Ready to set the stage on fire?” she asked, wrapping me in a brief but tight embrace.

“I think so,” I replied, my voice somehow sounding more confident than I felt.

Finally, it was time to begin.

The lights of the gymnasium dimmed, and the opening notes of the song wafted through the space, serene yet filled with promise. The dance team moved as one, a harmonious swirl of fluid movements that spoke of countless hours of practice and synchronization.

After a series of group formations, the music took on a softer tone. This was my moment. As the dancers parted, I found myself standing alone at the center of the stage, bathed in a single spotlight. The weight of the audience's gaze was palpable, their expectations hanging in the air.

I felt naked as I stood there, dressed in my leotard and nothing else. As I looked up at the crowd through my mask, I found myself frozen in time, my eyes scanning the darkened sea of faces that lay before me. Was Matt out there? Was he watching?

The melody began its gentle rise, signaling the start of my solo. As though on instinct, my movements mirrored the song’s progression—a mix of elegant ballet moves punctuated with a contemporary flair.

Every twist, turn, and leap felt like an extension of the music itself, my body serving as the instrument through which the song expressed its emotions.

But as the crescendo approached, so did the move I had been dreading—the fouetté en tournant. In practice, I had struggled with this, often losing balance or not achieving the required rotations.

The whispers of doubt began to creep into my mind as the move approached. What if I faltered? What if, in this crucial moment, I failed?

The music soared, and it was time. Taking a deep breath, I launched into the fouetté.

One rotation, two, three... The world around me blurred, the spotlight becoming a dizzying halo of light. My body was both weightless and grounded, each spin a test of balance and will.

Just when I felt the familiar pull of uncertainty, the music provided a lifeline. Drawing strength from its notes, I pushed through, completing the series of turns with a final, triumphant spin. As I struck the closing pose, the gymnasium burst into thunderous applause.

The cheers were deafening, a rush of appreciation that enveloped me. For a moment, all doubts vanished, replaced by the sheer joy of the dance and the knowledge that I had overcome my personal challenges. The team quickly surrounded me, their faces a blend of pride and elation, as we transitioned into the final segment of our routine.

With every subsequent step, I danced with renewed vigor, spurred on by the crowd’s overwhelming support. Tears flooded my vision, but not tears of angst or sorrow. They were tears of joy, of a battle won.

It was a night to remember, not just for the success of the performance, but for the personal victory it represented.

Yet, as we made our exit, I spotted Matt rushing toward one of the girls on our team. My heart skipped a beat. Why was he here? The necklace he held up glittered under the overhead lights—it was unmistakable.

He grabbed her shoulder. The girl spun around at his touch, tearing her mask off.

“What do you think you're doing?” she snapped, yanking her arm away. “Don’t touch me, perv!”

“I thought— I was looking for someone,” Matt stammered, clearly taken aback.

The girl, probably feeling his genuine distress, sighed. “You probably confused me with someone else. Just be careful next time. Don’t go grabbing girls like that!”

To say I was relieved would be an understatement. This was my chance! The idea of Matt identifying me amidst a sea of masked dancers had always filled me with dread.

But the necklace, the unanswered questions—I couldn’t risk it. What if Matt recognized me? What if he figured out that something was off when he noticed the new color in my eyes? Hell, what if Sabrina saw us and revealed my secret?

Keeping my head down, I began to wade through the sea of people, away from Matt before he could spot me.

“Celeste? Did you see that?” Fiona whispered, catching up to me.

I nodded, my heart still racing. “Yes. I think it’s time for a strategic exit.”

Fiona stopped in her tracks, her shoulders slumping. “You're running away?” she asked. The tone in her voice held me back for a second, but I shook my head, knowing that it had to be done.

“Just for now,” I replied, throwing a glance over my shoulder at Matt. He was scanning the crowd, looking for me. “I can’t risk it. Not now. I’ll see you tomorrow, Fi.”

Without waiting for her response, I turned on my heel and dashed out of the gymnasium, the quiet hallways a stark contrast to the bustle of the event inside.

To be continued.

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