Love, Loathing, and Limelight

Chapter Sixteen

On day one of rewriting my senior summer, I woke up early as always, with the sunlight stretching over my room. I hopped right out of bed and began getting ready like they do in the movies. I hit the gym, then I practiced for hours in my dance room, and when Megan came home that night, I had dinner ready and was looking over my course curriculums for the year. I had gotten a surprising amount of stuff done that day. I had compulsively cleaned the entire apartment to rewrite the last couple of months, and at any given moment of the day, I told myself that he never happened and I never knew him.

"Hey," Megan said as she walked in the door. "Wow, this place looks great," she said, surprised.

"Oh, thanks," I said.

"How was your weekend?" she asked.

"It was great," I said, continuing my work.

"So I see you went to that concert."

"No," I said instantly, turning away from my computer. "Why would I go to that concert?" She looked at me hesitantly. Why does she know? How does she know? What will I have to do to cover it up? In the moment of tension, I pinched my arm. She looked at me reluctantly and slowly held up the concert ticket she had found on the counter. A deep gust of breath escaped me. "Oh," I said. "Yeah, I did go."

"You seem a little off," she said as she set her stuff down and settled in. "What did you eat this morning?" she asked, now interrogating me.

"Eggs, yogurt, and fruit."

"Did you go to the gym today?"

"Of course," I said.

"Did you dance today?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Hmm," she said, staring daggers at me. "Ok then." She took her stuff to her room and left me alone to do my work.

That night I went through my phone and deleted everything. Pictures, texts, the phone number, anything to imply that it happened, which it didn't.

Going to the sectional Wednesday rehearsal was the best part of my week. Getting lunch with Chris and Ari on Fridays was something that I enjoyed. I was doing anything to return to normalcy, and honestly, I was doing great. I'd been researching careers and came up with an official plan. I had applied to the local university and planned to get a degree in teaching and study dance. I was dancing practically every second of every day, and I even took on a last-minute online summer class to get more credits out of the way. Mr. Lee had connections to get me internships and a guaranteed job after graduation. I'd never been more alive now that my future was back on track, and I knew nothing could stop me.

I was walking a freshman through his solo at midweek rehearsal when the door quietly crept open, and Mr. Lee walked in.

"Miss Connor, can I see you for a second, please?"

"Sure," I answered. I looked around for a captain who wasn't already helping somebody else, and I found Chris. "Hey Chris, can you help him with his solo?" I asked.

"Of course," he said as he hurried over to the freshman. I hopped off the stage to see Mr. Lee at the door.

"What's up?" I asked. I prepared myself for anything he was going to say. I was hoping it'd be more news about a possible internship he had mentioned or a dance competition. He often picks me to represent the school in contests. I pinched that same spot on my arm.

He was holding some papers with charts on them- the student performance charts. "I want to talk about your performance so far this year." I knew it. I've been given awards for my performance progression before. Something good was coming. I knew it. With all the effort I've put in, it has to be paying off somehow. "You've been progressing at a miraculous yet steady rate since your freshman year," he said. "It seems like now you've suddenly plateaued." My hopeful expression dropped.

"That doesn't make any sense," I told him. "I have been the most diligent I have ever been in my life lately. I am getting up earlier, staying out later, I'm dancing more, I'm in the gym longer, I'm eating healthier. Tell me how that adds up to a plateau?"

"In my experience, you're either pushing yourself so much that you're stressed or missing something you used to have. What's your muse, Sara?" he asked me.

"My what?"

"Your muse. It's what inspires you. For some people, it's a person who motivates them. What's yours?"

"I-I don't know. I guess mine is my future," I said.

"What do you mean?" he asked me.

"Thinking about where I'm going to be in ten years it's what keeps me going." He took a long pause.

"Has anything happened to the image of your future lately?" he asked me, and I thought of one person, then lied right to his face. He didn't buy it for a second, and I could see it all over his face.

"Sara!" Chris called out from the stage. "You're a better teacher than me." Mr. Lee gave me the approval to go back to instructing. I slowly started walking back to the stage. Plateaued performance? No. Absolutely not. Screw the charts. They're wrong. Screw Mr. Lee. My future is solid. Everybody else is wrong because I am never wrong. I took a breath, and as I did the spin, I did something I had never done. Not in my three years at LTA, not in my twelve years of ballet. I lost my balance, and my whole body hit the floor. I fell for the first time.

A loud thud boomed throughout the entire auditorium. I stared at the wooden planks inches away from my face. I couldn't see, but I could feel the stares of everybody in the room. I could feel Chris's eyes bulge out of his head. He had never seen this and never expected to. Even Hallie and Madame stopped their conversation so they could look at me. Nobody knew what to do.

My eyes were bulging out of their sockets. My lip was quivering. I took deep breaths, and it finally happened. I lost it. I couldn't hear anything until I stood up slowly. I started to walk off stage, and then I started running. I heard Chris call out my name and chase after me as I ran down the stage's stairs. I didn't even grab my bag and squeezed past Mr. Lee out the door, trying not to cry. Chris wasn't far behind me. Chris was calling my name, and he wasn't going to stop running after me. The door to the parking lot was propped open with a brick, and I could see it was pouring rain which meant it was too dangerous to take the bike home.

I didn't hesitate. I ran right into the storm. Chris didn't stop either. He kept chasing me. He kept calling my name. He didn't stop until I was off-campus, and even then, he stood on the edge of the parking lot that overlooked the road and called out my name.

I had left my bag at school. I ran on a backroad, a one-way road, in the pouring rain, in tights and a leotard. I could hardly see anything, but I knew the way home. As I came to an intersection on the backroad, the stop sign was on my side, but I didn't stop. I hadn't stopped since I started. I didn't hesitate to run right out into the road and heard a blaring car horn. I jumped back, pinching my arm, and watched the car drive by, soaking me as the tire ran through a puddle. Did that just happen? Did I almost just die? I kept running until I got home. I banged on the door for Megan to let me in. I ran right to my room and threw myself on my bed. I was still soaking wet.

I don't understand. I had worked so hard to make sure I had a solid life. I had done everything possible to get my life back on track, and I couldn't help but think that Noah had something to do with it. Could he? He came into my life and changed everything, but I changed it back. So no. There's no way it's him. He doesn't get to continue to impact my life. I'm not letting that happen.

*Hello, lovelies! Hope you are doing well. What do you think is going through Sara's mind? Why is she losing her focus? What happened to Noah? LMK and don't forget to vote! Or don't. Live your life. Have a good day! :) <3*