Twisted Innocence

Chapter Four

Greta & Amo

Amo 21, Greta 16

Greta had gotten up early to work on her potaburé, Fountaine pointe, and the swan spin her instructor wanted her to get down before her next recital. Greta had been getting up at five in the morning each day to work on it before the home gym got too crowded. She didn't mind the others but it was hard to dance when so many got in the way. Her family wasn't typical, Greta knew that. Her hard work and fantastic progress she had been making in dance had led to her mom talking to her about her future when she was younger. Greta would never be able to be a professional dancer. She would never be able to pursue dance after graduating, and while for most people, it might have meant giving up, the knowledge her time was limited meant that she couldn't waste a single moment. She pushed each practice, each movement, and each moment to the fullest extent possible.

She had been straining her feet and her toes, her arches ached from the high intensity she had pushed herself too, but she was determined to get this move down, even if it killed her. With one last spin and leap, Greta dove into the Fountaine point. Her toes ached against the box and she could only imagine the blood and blisters that formed on her feet from this morning alone.

As she unlaced the slippers and unbound her bandages, Greta hissed at the raw blister on the side of her foot that had been getting worse every day now. The bandages were coated in blood and she knew she had pushed herself too far, but she had to get this position down.

"If dad sees this he's gonna be pissed" Nevio rested in the doorway of the home gym. "You've already had three infections and two broken toes in your right foot alone in the past six months. You're pushing yourself too far, even your instructor says so."

Greta made an exasperated sigh and began to bandage up her feet with a fresh cloth. "You don't understand."

"Yes I do, I can see you in pain. You wince every time you put too much pressure on your right foot. If you don't give yourself time to rest and heal you're gonna get seriously hurt."

"You're one to talk," Greta muttered under her breath. Greta knew the Camorra tattoo Nevio had gotten a year ago held more than he would ever reveal. Nevio gave her a look daring her to continue her thought, but she just shook her head, not in the mood for a fight this morning. She grabbed her bag and pulled an oversized sweatshirt over her leotard and leggings.

Nevio looked at the sweatshirt confused, "That's my shirt."

"It looks better on me." Greta threw her bag over her shoulder and headed out the door.

"You went into my room?" Nevio asked.

"You go into mine all the time."

"That's different. I'm a man now, I need my privacy."

Greta snorted a laugh, "What? You're afraid I'm going to find the bra and panties of the last girl who you've had in your room? Too late." She turned to look at Nevio, he didn't seem amused.

"You weren't supposed to know that," he said, saddened.

"Well then tell the next girl you sleep with to take her undergarments with her when she's done having sex with you."

"Greta, I mean it, stay out of my room. You aren't supposed to know about that kind of stuff let alone accidentally see it."

"You forget, Nevio, we share a wall. I don't have to see it to know what's going on because I can hear it." Greta strutted down the hallway feeling very pleased with her comeback.

Nevio groaned and followed after her.

The Falcone's gathered around the table for breakfast, everyone staggered in grabbing a pancake or some juice as they sat down at the table. Kiara piled her plate high with fruit, dropping a few pieces on her son's plates. Alessio looked slightly hungover when he came in, but Greta didn't say anything. Since the boys had been inducted officially into the Camorra, they stayed out late each night, partying, drinking, and probably other things Greta didn't want to know about. She already heard Nevio through the walls.