His Tiny Dancer [COMPLETED]

XIX

~Wednesday January 12th~

Trigger Warning: the following warning contains spoilers to what happens in this chapter, but this may be important for you to read. This chapter, and some future ones as well, discusses eating disorders. If you don't feel comfortable reading about that in any kind of detail (it's not graphic at all), skip this chapter.

I wave goodbye to Melody and Noah after her class, Noah and I's eye contact lingering for an extra second before he turns to walk Melody to the car. A content smile on my face, I sit down next to my dance bag to untie my tap shoes and put on my ballet shoes. Andrea sits on the bench a couple feet away from me, scrolling through her phone, but she looks up momentarily to greet me. Once I've finished with my shoes I move to unscrew my water bottle for a drink, but get distracted by a coughing and sputtering sound coming from the bathroom door across from Andrea. When I look up, I find Andrea also looking up from her phone, having heard the noise as well.

"It sounds like someone's getting sick," Andrea speaks my thoughts.

"Do you know who's in there?" I ask, thinking she might have seen who went in while I was in class.

"No, it was already occupied when I got here. I should go get a teacher," she responds.

"Whoever it is needs to go home, it could be contagious. I'll try to see who it is."

"Okay, I'll be right back," Andrea replies, standing up. I stand as well and knock on the wooden door.

"Umm, who's in here? Are you okay?" At first I hear no response besides the flushing of a toilet, then I hear someone clear their throat.

"Be out in a sec," she responds. I hear the sink running, then the paper towels ripping, before the lock is turned and Riley opens the door, stepping out.

"Riley? Are you okay, it sounded like you were throwing up," I say, concerned.

"What? No, I'm fine. Oh look, it's six o'clock, we need to get to class," she responds, trying to move around me.

"Riley, was that you in there? Do you want me to call you mom?" Miss Erica says approaching us, Andrea right behind her.

"Oh no, I'm fine. Thank you though," Riley says trying to slip past me again, but I stop her by holding onto her wrist. I stare down at my hand which easily wraps all the way around her wrist with extra room. I look down at her legs. Her feet and calves look normal, but her thighs are no longer close to touching. I see her hip bones and the shadow of her ribs through her leotard. Her collar bones stick out against the straps of her leotard. Riley's head hangs as I move behind her so that I can see her back. That's how you always know. When you can see their spine and scapulas beneath their skin, and every time they bend over it looks like they're going to break.

"Riley?" I whisper, stepping in front of her again. How on earth did I not notice until now? How could all of us possibly have missed this? Riley looks up into my eyes, and I break. Tears beginning to pool in my eyes, I pull her into a hug as I hear Andrea gasp as she realizes the same thing.

"I'll go call her mom," I hear Miss Erica say to Andrea, but it sounds distant. The only words I can really hear are bouncing around in my head, screaming at me for being such an idiot while I hold her in my arms.

Riley has an eating disorder.

Soon I feel Andrea wrap her arms around the both of us, and I weave one arm out from Riley's torso to hold onto her too. When we break away, sniffling, Riley finally speaks.

"I'm sorry," she says, the absolute last thing I want to hear her say.

"No Riley, I'm sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have noticed. I can't believe I didn't notice," my voice trails off. Andrea sniffles next to me.

"You're going to get better Riley. You're going to be okay," she says.

"Do I need to go to the hospital?" She asks, more tears pooling in her eyes. Andrea and I look at each other, honestly not knowing the answer. "I didn't think it was that bad," she takes our silence as an answer.

"Riley, you can't dance like this. You're going to break. I don't really know what's going to happen, but I know you'll have to take some time off." I know this will be the hardest part for her. "But once you're healthy again, you can come back. That can be your motivator, right?" I add, seeing how scared she becomes at the thought of having to take a break.

Eating disorders are too common in this industry. When someone thinks of a ballerina, they think of a skinny girl with long, slender legs and arms, wearing a tight tutu. That's what we think of too. So staring at yourself in a mirror wearing a skin tight leotard and tights every day isn't normally fun. Regardless of other aspects such as flexibility and strength, weight can be a factor in whether someone gets a contract for a company or not. Recently more and more famous professionals have more of an athletic, muscular build - which does help - but the eating disorders affect younger dancers more, the students and trainees who are too desperate to get a contract to see any other perspective. That goal of a long, stick thin body never really disappears.

Riley's mom comes to pick her up, and in the meantime Andrea and I have to start class. We hug Riley one last time before leaving her on the bench to wait with Miss Erica. Walking into class, Andrea and I find our usual barre spots. Nobody dared take them - not because we're scary - because they all know what was going on outside in the lobby, so they left our favorite spots for us for when we came back in. The first combination is taught, and Miss Marie goes to start the music. I stand at the barre, my whole body completely still as I wait, staring at the ground in front of me where Riley should be standing.

Just two hours ago I was running around my house with Noah, laughing. An hour ago I was in class with Melody and other giggling five-year-olds, stealing glances at Noah who was watching us from the lobby. Just ten minutes ago I was waving them goodbye and preparing for my own class, my routine in complete perfection.

Now I fight back tears as I think about what I dumb friend I am. It should have been obvious that she was sick and losing weight. She's always been petite, but it should have been too clear to me that she was abnormal.

I glance up at the picture frame on the wall and read, We dance for Emma. Taking a deep breath, I repeat it in my head.

We dance for Emma. And I dance for Riley.

I have the best class in months.

~~~~~

Written 5/10/18, Published 5/13/18

Here's another update. As you can probably imagine, this chapter was hard to write, between it being emotional and me wanting to make it as accurate as possible. But I pushed through and here it is (though very short)!

Good news is I've taken my math final (comment if you've been taking IB tests too because ew lol) which means that every other day I get to go home from school at 9:45 (including the day that I'm writing this ;))! So that means that I will hopefully have more free time to write.

ALSO for those of you who are dancers, my studio is doing excerpts from Paquita for part of our year end show, and I got a variation! It's a really unpopular one so I honestly cannot find it on YouTube but it's one of the allegros and it's really fun.

Please remember to vote and comment!

Thank you for reading!! <3