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Original Edition: Chapter Twelve

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THAT NIGHT, NAOMI COULD NOT SLEEP. The catastrophe brewing inside her had quelled, but she wasn't any less restless because of it. Instead, she was forced to lay awake and stare into the darkness as her thoughts stifled her mind into desperation. Thunder rolled and lightning struck, yet the true disaster was Naomi Morgan.

In the dark of her room, everything she felt was amplified, especially, the tingling feeling in her shoulder left in the spot where Aspen had touched her. It was eccentric and alive, but it was perplexing and sudden too. She thought of it, covering her own shoulders gently and wondered how to distinguish a blessing disguised as a curse.

Without anyone to talk to on the stormy Riverside night, Naomi knew better than to make any sort of decision. The darkest parts of people came out in the night time. She knew that, and after replaying what she did at the dining table she feared that the darkest parts of her were a completely different person. A monster.

So Naomi sat awake until the sky changed colour. And when it finally did, she made her move.

Sparing enough time only to rub the numbing gel on her toes and change her clothes, Naomi escaped the house as quietly as she could. Despite the hour, Riverside was still coughing up all sorts of people. A man, alone and drunk, swayed past Naomi. Across the street, a younger boy sped up the road on a red bicycle. Naomi took in Riverside in all its dawn glory and realized, out here on the street, she was but one of many sad cases in California. She imagined the drunk man might have been suffering from a loss, maybe a friend or family member. Then she imagined that the boy might be rushing home to pretend he'd been in his room all night after spending the night at a girl's house. She wondered what they thought she was doing.

When Ben's Dance Equipment Store came into sight, she didn't bother looking before crossing the street. "Ben?" she called when she got to the door. She knocked loudly. "Ben?"

A low groan crawled its way out the back. Followed by a series of incoherent words. "Ben?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" The chill from the numbing gel arrived at her ankles before Ben opened the door. An over-sized white crew neck stabled his upper body with similarly sized sweatpants covering his lower. He rubbed his eyes annoyingly. "I know you always come here early but," he wiped his eyes again, "Yellow, this is extreme. Do you know what time it is?" She bit her bottom lip. Maybe she should have thought this through before casting her burdens on a third party. Regret twisted her stomach. "It's three in the morning." Ben's hands dropped to his waists and he squinted at her.

She didn't reply.

His hands fully fell and his eyes relaxed into realization. "What happened?"

Her mouth opened, and everything fell out. Wicked truths she never expected to utter about her family traced her tongue and teeth and the tears she told herself not to shed for them raced down her face. In the midst of it all, Naomi and Ben sat atop the store counter and there, the small shop felt like a different world. A pocket universe where misery and angst were welcomed and softened into care and understanding. In other words, a galaxy designed just for Naomi and Ben.

Her life was always predictable, she said, a quality she's never embraced, but when she finally came to rely on it, the opposite ensues. Happiness must run away from some people.

By the time she was done, her eyes were red and her head was on Ben's shoulder. She asked him what he thinks Jessica would do.

"This isn't about Jessica," he answered. "It's about you." When she didn't say anything he added, "No one can tell you what to do except you." Their pocket universe settled peacefully. "What do you want to do?"

"I want to dance as Giselle in my solo and get into the New York City Ballet Company."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

Her mind fell back to what Mr Carson told her. He told her she had to separate her personal life from her dancing life, and he was right. But dividing herself to suit two different means was scary a thing for Naomi Morgan, destined to reap collateral. She simply couldn't split herself. She had to choose.

She answered finally, "By choosing to dance."

Author's Note
Yes 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾😭😭! Every time I read that last line I give a standing ovation. *insert drake clapping gif here*

Also, SPECIAL NEWS! It was just announced earlier today that we made it to the long list for #wattys2018! I left a full thank you note on my profile (follow me) but I want to say it here too. Thank you guys so much. I didn't expect much when I wrote this book but to see it grow every day and achieve new heights is heart-warming fr. I love you all.

Speaking of love, this chapter is dedicated to @stereoskylines bc they BINGED my entire book last night! I woke up to all the votes and comments and burst into happy tears ❤️. Tysm you're the bestest. If you vote, comment and share the next dedication could be you!

As usual, what do you guys think so far? What do you like and what do you dislike. Lmk in the comments! (I can take it, I promise) ❤️❤️

 Lmk in the comments! (I can take it, I promise) ❤️❤️

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IN THE NEXT CHAPTER...

Most of the crowd stepped in and walked around her, similar to the way someone might walk around a standstill pitbull. Faking normalcy. Nevertheless, as she tried to pick apart their whispers and looks, Naomi concluded that they all knew how horribly she danced on Saturday. In some voices, she caught envy, in others, disappointment. The entire Riverside Dance Academy was a critic...

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