A Stormy Night Pt. 11

Tonight's the night, and I'm more than shit-scared!

I can hear everyone who's participating in the whole thing whooshing and whirling about all around me, doing inspections or last-minute repairs and solutions or hustling the younger classes to and from the stage or practicing one last time or going over the schedule—all to perfect everything so that the show runs smoothly. The nine girls I'm dancing with chat with one another whilst putting the finishing touches to their makeup, their liveliness and anticipation radiating from them in forceful waves, filling the entire room. But I'm just here, sitting in front of my own tiny vanity table, staring at the reflection of a girl who resembles me but am still actually unsure if it is me.

Adorning a coral pink leotard, tights and romantic tutu that all have elegant designs of off-white blossoms and thousands of enchanting glitters embedded into the material, off-white pointe shoes, a special lotion we wear to keep sweat at bay whilst also giving the skin a gleaming sleekness, a rosy blush that accentuates my cheeks, a sophisticated French twist kept in place by hairpins with pearl-like studs on them dotting my brown hair with white, dark eyeliner and silvery eyeshadow highlighting the blue in my eyes as they pop out more than usual, black mascara causing my eyelashes to look long and curled flawlessly, a cerise lip gloss that my lips seem to adore, and a metallic silver coronet with bright red flowers blooming all around it that completes the surreal appearance of a fairytale being.

Despite me looking spectacular as hell, I've been incapacitated by an earthquake of self-doubt. This is the recital where three trusted instructors from the most prestigious ballet academy in the country have come to assess us and possibly give us a chance to attend it with the aids of scholarships. Meaning that if I fuck up one thing—just one—tonight of all nights, it's all over. So yeah, I think I'm entitled to be more than crazy worried about this.

I try to take a deep breath in but only achieve inhaling a tenth of that as it enters my lungs as a shaky gasp so then my anxieties only worsen and I suddenly feel nauseated as my stomach does weird fluttering dances. Only when a gentle hand rests on my shoulder and I look up to see Jen's encouraging expression do I begin to calm down, not much, but just enough for me to be able to face what's coming.

"Hey, stop worrying," she says with a positive smile, also dressed in a similar attire but hers being a pale blue instead. "You'll be fine."

"Oh god, I hope so," I say, attempting at taking another lungful of air, this time succeeding.

"Sandra, you'll be great as usual. But if the rare exact opposite happens, you can count on me being there to steal the show from you."

Laughter filled with relief bursts out of me, freeing me from more of the panicky energy that's zigzagging around in my chest, and I say with a huge appreciative smile, "Thank you, Jen. For always being there for me."

Returning the grin, she says, "You're welcome, Sandra."

She gives me a tight hug from behind, and after a couple of seconds with us hugging like proper best friends she decides to ruin the moment by aiming to kiss me on the cheek with exaggerated noises.

"Are you fucking serious, Jen?!" I exclaim, giggling as I struggle to wriggle myself free.

"No. Can't you tell?" she jokes then laughs just before the ten-minute call sounds for us.

Standing, we troop out of the dressing room and head for the theater's backstage. As I'm talking to Jen and the other co-dancers, my eyes spot a group of people a little bit far away in the corner of my eye. When I turn to look at them I see that one of them is Mrs. Grayson, who I had expected to come. She smiles and waves at me to come just as my eyes shift slightly to the right to view the couple who are with her, and I instantly freeze.

One of them is a woman with dirty blonde hair styled into a sleek chignon wearing a gorgeous indigo wraparound dress that captures her body finely, and her face glows with kindness and warmth. The man beside her is tall and lean, an expensive suit giving him an aura of importance and authority, and has a neat beard and dark brown hair that has been slicked back. Even from this distance I can see his eyes, which are the same sapphire color as mine, and I start to run in their direction.

"Mom! Dad!" I cry out when I reach them, flinging my arms around them both.

"Hey, Sugarplum," Dad chuckles as they both pull me in for a great, big, heartwarming bear hug.

"I can't believe you're really here!"

"Well, a certain someone hinted to us that it would be best if we were here," Mom explains as she gives Mrs. Grayson a knowing look.

I face her and she gives a small smile as she says, "I figured that them being here would help you a lot."

I move to embrace her, colossal gratitude surging through my heart at the thoughtful gesture. I whisper quietly, "Thank you. You're just amazing."

"You're welcome, hon."

"Sandra, sweetie," Mom starts, taking my hand in hers. "You are much more important to us than our business. We don't want you to ever doubt that."

That only causes tears to spring into my eyes, and I have to fight a great war against them in making sure that I don't ruin the makeup.

"Thank you so much," I say in a choked voice, hugging them even tighter than before.

With these people here, who were so ready to drop everything they were doing to just show their support for me no matter what obstacle presented itself on the way, I'm once again reminded of how deeply I'm loved. Boundless joy vaults through the roof at that fact, kicking out all that nervous bullshit I was struggling with earlier on. My heart constricts painfully, and just when I think I'm about to lose to the force of my cries Mrs. Kingsley calls out to me, a lot less spitefully than normal since my parents are here but still managing to ruin yet another beautiful moment for me, and I have to let them go.

"Thank you for this," I softly say, holding only their hands now.

"Of course, dear," Mom says with an enriching grin. "Now go show them what you can do."

With another smile and quick hug, I run onto the stage, my whole body feeling as if it's in the clouds now. I grin like an idiot to myself as I take my place behind the red thick closed curtains amongst the others, immense confidence and happiness springing deep within my bones from just knowing that there are people who will always value me with every bit of their hearts regardless of what happens.

And now, all I have to do is show them how much I appreciate it.

Every single distraction gradually dies down in my mind as I shut my eyes: shuffling feet, squeaking pulleys, taps, knocks, the unseen audience's whispering. In the end, all that is audible is my controlled breathing and calm heartbeat, and I take up first position, ready to begin. Beyond my closed eyelids I sense the curtains being pulled to the sides, the bright light from various spotlights immediately seeking then focusing on us, calling all attention to our still bodies. Slowly, I open my eyes, almost finding my parents and Mrs. Grayson straightaway in the fourth row, flashing wordless cheers at me with their wide beaming looks, and I have to fight the urge to smile back. I drop my eyes to the ground, waiting for the first note of the song to commence, and when it does my entire form vibrates as I'm transported to a land of marvel and optimism.

Everyone excluding me moves in synchronized flowing movements, twirling around my unmoving body in sensuous patterns, executing every move perfectly, and I internally praise them for their incredible talents, passion and hard work. When the part comes where the music dies down for a single second some girls drop to their knees and others line up at either side of me and we all begin to dance together like single water droplets that merge into a river, our motions gentle, smooth and controlled.

Then everything changes when silence ensues and the adagio music swells, signaling the start of the real performance.

I step forward just as a yellow beam of light catches me and then begin to execute my moves, once again alone with just the sensational music, my limbs programmed to know what to do without me thinking about it, every movement natural and free. Pirouette, plié, assemblé, grande jeté; every single move drifts out of me effortlessly and I command the stage, everyone spinning around me like petals caught in a typhoon. This is my night. No one can steal it away from me, not even with the force of the earth on their side.

Because nothing can be more powerful than my sun-level intense bursting emotions at this very moment.

The music ends, but once again it's my body that makes me aware of that as I gently whirl on the pointe of one shoe and stop in the fifth position right before the noise of clapping hands momentarily deafens me as it booms around the spacious theater tenfold. I gaze at the audience and see everyone rise to their feet as they give a standing ovation. A wide grin spreads across my face at the proud faces of my parents and Mrs. Grayson as well as the commending looks of the judges. I managed to do everything I could without a single hitch, and despite the recital being over my heart is still hammering away from the adrenaline rush.

All the dancers stand side by side to form a long line and then we hold hands before doing a curtsy. The audience cheers even louder, and we have to do one more curtsy before the curtains start to fall closed, cutting us off from the still-applauding audience. As soon as that happens we all start to squeal, more than delighted with ourselves for our perfectly executed dance and positive that we have a pretty good chance that we'll get into the academy.

"If we don't get in, I'll die," Jen says as we all go off the stage to where her mother is standing, miraculously not looking disappointed in us for once.

"Because of your mom, right?" I whisper jokingly, causing her to dig her elbow into my ribs a bit too painfully yet I still giggle.

We stand before Mrs. Kingsley who doesn't give anything away as we silently await the news. A minute later one of the judges heads in our direction and then stops beside her, regarding us all with a cool expression. In that moment all those shitty nerves flood back in, shaking me to the core, and when I see the same thing happening to the others as if it's contagious I know I'm not the only one dying to know what will happen next.

"So this is the group..." he starts slowly, pausing a little to make sure we writhe in agony from the fucking intense suspense some more. "...that we shall have the pleasure of teaching in the near future."

In a flash, vast relief, shock and elation explode in the area like a nuclear bomb as the screams of ten girls silence the entire world. We bound up and down and hug each other, the wonderful knowledge of our hard work finally paying off more than satisfying in the greatest way possible.

Yes, yes, yes! Fuck yes! I've finally taken the huge leap towards my lifelong dream and now my future is in arm's reach.

"I would love to give you all the details," he continues, a great smile lighting up his experienced face. "But I'm sure that you all would love to tell your families the great news so we will contact you as soon as possible. You have all done well and deserve to celebrate your success. Enjoy the rest of the evening."

With that he leaves us with a friendly farewell wave and we all start to scream again, unable to contain our thrill yet again. But then Mrs. Kingsley shouts at us to be quiet, once again burning up every drop of happiness she finds in us.

"Okay, ladies. Calm yourselves," she says sternly and we hang our heads, our chance to express ourselves freely snuffed out. "I'm sure your families are the ones who really want to hear your screams, so you better look for them right now."

The way flabbergasted is the only thing we can all show when she says that. Did she really just trick us into thinking that we aren't in trouble? Really?

"You all heard me. Go," she urges on. We all smile at her genuinely for the first time, and begin to rush past her to hunt down our waiting families. "Cassandra."

I freeze just as I'm about to pass her, tensing as I expect some terrible comment from her. I slowly turn to face her, and when I see the sincere pride that shines in her eyes I almost experience a heart attack.

"You outdid yourself tonight," she says, giving a small but powerful smile. "A great future is lying ahead of you."

Hearing those words from her of all people just... I don't know. It's fucking revolutionary and historic I guess. The world feels like it just vaulted from the sudden change of attitude she's exhibiting towards me, marking what should be one of the greatest moments of my life.

And then an unexpected realization materializes in my mind: she wasn't being hard on me because she didn't think I deserved it any more than her daughter did. It's because she only wanted me to prosper no matter what opposing pressure came.

For that, I'm now strangely eternally grateful to her.

"Thank you," I say softly, giving her a smile that speaks volumes before leaving her and Jen.

Moments later I find my parents and Mrs. Grayson, and since they obviously heard the good news from the other girls they are more than ready to present their congratulations to me.

"I knew you would get in!" Mrs. Grayson exclaims whilst she and my mom give me a huge bear hug at the same time.

"With the way she danced it would've been impossible for the judges to do the opposite," Dad says, the biggest smile I've ever seen him have plastered on his face as he also wraps his arms around me, and I blush crimson. "My little Sugarplum's a star."

"Dad..." I admonish. The way I'm embarrassed but joyful at the same time.

"I'm just saying!"

I giggle. I can never get used to their affection and care for me.

"I'll be back in ten," I say, quickly walking towards the dressing room.

As I pass some of the others with their families they congratulate me and I return them, more than elated to see happy smiles all around. This night ended way better than I had hoped, and with a celebratory dinner afterwards everything will be nothing but perf—

I stop dead in my tracks. Straight ahead is the vanity table that I was using earlier on. Everything is exactly as I left it; well, I think everything is exactly as I left it since the humongous bouquet of flowers basically the size of the table's mirror is making it quite hard for me to tell.

The other girls awe and pester me about who it's from. At first, I guess that it's Jake making an exaggerated, over-the-top gesture of his support but then I look closer at the types of flowers they are and immediately rule it out. A typical guy would buy his love interest red roses by nature, believing it's the best way to swoon her. A man who actually took time to know her on the other hand would buy her favorites, no matter how expensive or rare they are. In my case my favorites are California poppies, which are a vivid golden orange and have petals that form a sort of teacup. This specific color always lifts me off my feet and mesmerizes me, but in this very moment I feel like I'm sinking and darkness is crowding in around me. Only four people in the entire goddamn world know that they're my favorites: my mom, Mrs. Grayson, Jennifer, and certainly not my dad.

Shawn.

That revelation snatches all the air out of me and I abruptly feel dizzy, as if I'm being told to do endless pirouettes on the edge of the tallest skyscraper, each spin becoming more puzzling and deadlier than the one before it until I feel myself start to tip over.

But a hand suddenly clamps down on my arm, tugging me back to safety, and when I whip my head around I see that it's Jen.

"Hey, you okay?" she asks, concern written all over her face.

I look back at the flowers which I see are in a priceless-looking crystal vase, and she follows my gaze before instantaneous understanding floods her brain.

"Oh," she just says.

I turn back to her and this time I'm able to move my mouth. "Why would he do this? Why would he just reappear after what happened and buy these flowers for me? Why—"

Jen shushes me gently but forcefully, and I fall silent without hesitation. She says under her breath, "You can't freak out right now, okay? People are watching and they'll know something's up, which is the last thing you need. Calm down, get changed, take the flowers as if you were expecting them from Jake, and enjoy your night like you should then tomorrow we'll kill the asshole. Alright?"

Her words magically help me to calm down. Okay, first step down, now for the other four. Step two is easy enough. All I need to do is change clothes, remove the pins and crown from my hair but leave the makeup on since that will take forever to remove. The third however is where I start to stumble, and I don't just mean emotionally. I bet that Shawn must've purposefully wanted me to struggle with lifting and carrying the bouquet since the combined weight of the vase, water inside it and the flowers is a little difficult to handle. What a total jackass! Even though the gesture is really more than touching—shit! He's getting to me again! No, no, hell no!

The fourth step is of course the hardest (since murdering him shouldn't be a problem for me, right?), needing to act just the right amount of shy and flattered when I return to my parents and Mrs. Grayson as if they are from a crush that I would rather not talk about. Surprisingly, they buy it for the mean time. I mean, my dad obviously starts acting protective and pointing out how desperate the guy is by basically buying the whole damn flower shop but my mom and Mrs. Grayson manage to convince him that it isn't that serious at least for the time being, is in fact super sweet to my utter horror.

The way I just dived back into lying to them all over again because of him. Fuck it!

We go out for dinner at a well-established seafood restaurant and basically order the whole menu as we dine, even though I fail to be able to fully taste the sumptuous-looking food, trying hard to listen to the conversation occurring and join in whenever I manage to forget about all those tumultuous emotions and thoughts banging around inside me. When we finish we head back home, dropping off Mrs. Grayson at her house on the way and chat some more, yet I can't really enjoy catching up with my parents. As soon as we reach home I announce that I need to go to bed since I'm exhausted and then hastily say goodnight before virtually soaring up the stairs to my room. Only when I manage to shut the door with my hip since my hands are preoccupied with the monstrous bouquet and set it down on my dresser do I start to break down again.

Heartbreak, all over again, as if it was a predator lying patiently in wait for its prey, like vinegar that was just waiting to be poured into an open wound, like a geyser that was just waiting to burst free from the ground. It slams into my chest hard, making it impossible to drag in a breath, then it seeps into my bloodstream, causing a deathly chilliness to embrace me, then it pierces through my bones to the marrow, making me weak and drop to my knees, and then it clouds around my mind like a ghost, haunting me with all the terrible thoughts and feelings I had tried so hard to get rid of.

Why is he back? I know that he moved away because I unwisely drove by his house this one time to convince myself that he really was gone. So why is he here? For my recital? No. I can't choose to believe that after all he did and said to me he suddenly thought it was a good idea to come for that. Maybe he had some unfinished business he needed to resolve, but why would he have needed to buy those fucking gorgeous flowers for me then? None of this makes any damn sense! Did he really ruin my life again by crashing back into it one more time just for the sake of it? Has he truly become that much of an asshole?