Chapter Two

Author's Note: Although there are actual places used in this story, all characters and situations are fictional.

 

Chapter Two:

                The second I came down on my ankle wrong, I knew it was bad. Instead of the simple burst of pain, the blooming warmth of bruised tissue that signified a sprain, I felt the tear. In my mind I could hear it. I sat very still on the shiny polished wood of the dance floor, in the middle of my very first dance class of college. The instructor had only asked me to show a jump, but I had to prove myself, so I did more.

                The instructor, a lithe woman in her fifties who insisted we refer to her as Helene, rushed over to me. She dragged one of the guys in the class with her, and without asking me if I was okay with being manhandled, she had him scoop me up into his arms. Despite the gentle way he cradled me, I felt a pulsating rush of anger. All I wanted to do was shove him away.

                When he placed me in the hard plastic chair on the edge of the room, he backed away slowly like he knew what I had been thinking. Helene knelt down beside me, and began rotating my ankle. I yelped in pain, and pulled away too quickly. Hot waves of agony radiated up my leg. The whole room was closing in on me, the edges of my vision getting black. I fought back against it, though. There was no way I was going to allow all these people see me weak.

                “I think you need to go to Health Services,” Helene said. “I will have Brett escort you.”

                My jaw came unhinged as I gaped at her in disbelief. “I’m fine,” I said. “I—I’ll just sit out for a few minutes.”

                Helene frowned at me in a way that made me feel like a child. The disapproval in her gaze was so strong that I could feel it as it washed over me. She pressed her lips together, and turned back to the class. When she started barking orders again, I exhaled a sharp breath of relief.

                “That took balls.”

                I looked up more annoyed than startled. The guy who had picked me up, Brett, Helene had called him, was standing next to me. With a rough sigh, I said, “What did?”

                “Standing up to Helene.”

                When I realized that Brett wasn’t going anywhere, I sighed again. “I didn’t do anything so special.” My grandmother always told me that being humble was a virtue. I’d never really been sure what that meant since my parents weren’t really church-y type people, but I had gotten into a habit of mimicking my grandma. When I was older, I had decided that I liked the idea of being virtuous, at least when the mood struck me.

                “Don’t do that,” Brett said.

                “Do what?” I asked, my mouth puckering into a frown.

                “Deflect a compliment. I hate it when girls do that.”

                My frown deepened. I felt like this guy that I had just met could see right through me. I had just wanted to get him to stop talking, while still seeming like the decent person I was. But all I’d seemed to do was draw him into a deeper conversation.

                “Why do you think I care what you do or do not like?” I asked, my voice tight. I crossed my arms over my chest, and looked at him in challenge.

                Brett shrugged. “I don’t care if you care or not. I just think if someone gives you a compliment, you should accept it.”

                We lapsed into silence again, and I looked at him from the corner of my eye. “You don’t look much like a dancer.”

                Brett choked out a quick laugh, and said, “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

                “Well, are you?” I asked.

                “I’m in a dance class, so doesn’t that make me a dancer?”

                “Weak logic,” I said, though if I was feeling more charitable I would have conceded that most dancers I knew didn’t look like stereotypical dancers.

                He laughed again, and I squirmed at the thought that I actually really liked his laugh. “Actually I’m on the football team. You might have heard about us. We’re pretty good. Actually we’re projected to have a perfect season this year.”

                “What do they use you for? A practice dummy?”

                “Ouch.” Brett’s grin widened. “I’m a running back. I don’t start or anything. I’m only a sophomore. I’ll probably start next year. Or at least that’s my plan. You should come watch a practice some time, since it looks like you’re going to be sitting out for a while.”

                I ground my teeth together. Clearly he wasn’t a dancer because he didn’t understand the magnitude of my injury. If this was as bad as I thought it was, then this would end my dance career. I couldn’t even let my mind go there, and entertain the possibility. Suddenly panic slammed in to me, my chest constricting so tightly that I could barely breathe. If I had any chance of getting better and continuing on the path that I had always dreamed of, I needed to get to a doctor immediately. I hated that Helene had been right, but I could swallow my pride enough that I could admit that I was wrong.

                Brett was still babbling about practice and the football team, but I interrupted him. “Can you help me to Health Services?”

                “Uh, sure,” he said.

                With a grim set to my jaw I allowed him to help me up. As we hobbled out of the dance studio, I wondered when the next time I would be back—if ever.

Chapter One

Chapter One:

                I stumbled under the weight of my suitcase and jet lag. The crumpled piece of paper in my hand insisted that I was in the right place. That and Alyssa, my community advisor. She had introduced herself as a theater major, and I wondered if I was supposed to lead with that bit of information myself, though I was going to double major in graphic design and dance. I was almost embarrassed by my overachieving ambition. Almost. But not quite.

                Once I managed to get inside my room, I was assaulted with the visual equivalent of unicorn poop. Every surface of my new home was covered in pink and purple and sparkles. I almost dry heaved. Setting my suitcase down heavily, I dropped into a hard backed desk chair. This could not be the right place.

                “Oh my gosh, you must be Astrid!”

                I turned toward the squealing coming from my doorway and saw a girl who was the human embodiment of unicorn poop. She was small and pale, with flawless, alabaster skin, reminiscent of a porcelain doll. Her long dark hair only served to enhance her luminescence, especially the color of her blue eyes, which seemed to glow almost violet as she smiled at me. She was decked head to toe in hot pink, and there was indeed a cartoon unicorn on her t-shirt. I didn’t have a chance to respond before she threw her arms around me.

                “And you must be Kia,” I said, disentangling myself from her arms. Exhaustion was overwhelming me, and I was having trouble staying calm.

                “Have I told you the story of how I got my name?” she asked.

                I wracked my brain. I couldn’t remember so I just shook my head. “Which bed is mine?”

                “Oh,” Kia said, looking confused for a moment. “You can pick. I’ve been sleeping on the bottom bunk because it’s easier for me to get into. I mean, I know I’m pretty short.”

                “That’s fine. Top it is,” I said, cutting in before she could ramble any longer. “I just need to sleep.”

                “Oh, that’s right, you just got in, didn’t you? From Paris? That sounds amazing. I can’t wait to hear all about it.” Kia sighed with either envy or just to take a breath. I was pretty sure her brain needed more oxygen.

                As I crawled up on to the top bunk I was momentarily glad that I had agreed to let Kia decorate the whole room. My mom and dad had sent her parents a check for our share of the expenses. They’d done that once they knew we’d be in Paris until after classes began, forcing me to miss move in and all the welcome week activities. In the beginning, that had been fine with me. A trip to Paris was hard to beat, but that was before my darling parents had decided to drop the bombshell on me and my sisters that they were selling our family home to travel the world. I’d had a few choice words for them that they hadn’t appreciated.

                Now I was going to be all alone at a university I had chosen for its proximity to my family. My older sister, Anya, was already out in the world, living her own life, but my younger sister, Ingrid and I were close to each other and our parents. I felt lost, like I was drifting, and I didn’t have the mental faculties to deal with the emotions bunching up in my chest. I’d imagined college would be fun, but at the moment I just wanted to block all of it out. As the blissful oblivion of sleep pulled me under, I could hear Kia humming some pop song that I didn’t really know but that always got stuck annoyingly in my head.

                When I woke up it was dark in our room save for a string of fairy lights threaded around the frame of the bunk bed. I could hear Kia snoring lightly on the bottom bunk. My mouth felt rotten and dry, like I’d licked sandpaper or something. I needed to brush my teeth. The thought filled my head, until I realized that I had no idea even where the bathroom was. Alyssa had offered to give me a quick tour of the floor, but I had been so focused on finding my bed.

                Well, I supposed it was time that I got acquainted with my new home. Swinging my leg over the bed, I missed the first foothold and fell several feet to the floor. “Damn it,” I muttered as pain shot all the way up to my hip. I needed to be more careful. My first dance class was the next afternoon—or was it this afternoon?—and I had to be in top form. How would it look if I sprained my ankle before I even started?

                Grabbing my toiletry bag from where I’d dropped it on the floor. Stepping out in to the hallway, I peered in both directions. Given how quiet the floor was I figured it had to be pretty late. Another lovely side effect of jet lag. I wondered how long it would take for my sleep schedule to go back to normal.

                I found the bathroom with little trouble. “Ugh,” I said out loud. I looked like Dracula and a zombie had a butt ugly baby. Pulling a makeup wipe out of my bag, I scrubbed my face, but it did little good. With a sigh, I decided to leave it for the morning. Quickly I brushed my teeth. I knew Ingrid wouldn’t be able to sleep either. If I could find the lounge, I could at least see how she was settling in with our grandparents in Arizona.

                “Scattered,” I whispered to my reflection in the mirror.

                “Do you always talk to yourself in the mirror?”

                I jumped at the sound of the voice. A tall, lanky guy with disheveled hair and glasses was smirking at me. My gut level, knee jerk reaction was annoyance. It was the freaking middle of the night. I had been on campus less than eight hours, and already I had found someone just like Jay. Unbelievable.

                “Always,” I snapped.

                The guy looked taken aback by my vehemence, but I didn’t care. I knew all about guys like him, guys who thought they were so amazing, that the world revolved around them. The attitude just oozed out of guys like this one.

                “Ugh,” I said as I snatched up my toiletry bag, and hurried past him into the hall.

                To my surprise he chuckled, and called after me, “We should do this again soon.”