The Right Moves (The Game #3)(38)
Author: Emma Hart

“You really gotta stop throwing me these curveballs,” I mutter as Bianca passes me.

“I have no idea what you mean.” She leaves the studio, followed by her uncle, and I’m suddenly alone with twelve very chatty seven and eight year olds.

“How about we all sit down?” I suggest, looking out at a sea of faces. “Then we can all chat easier. Okay?”

Choruses of “yeah” and “okay” come to me, and I sit cross-legged on the studio floor. They all copy me, sitting with their backs perfectly straight.

“How about we introduce ourselves first? Our name, age, and a little something about us. I’ll start.” I shift slightly. “I’m Abbi, I’m eighteen, and I’m training with Bianca to get into Juilliard.”

As we travel around the group, I learn names I’ve already forgotten and the strangest facts about them. Kids really don’t a brain-to-mouth filter, and I have to stifle my giggles more than once.

“Okay, now that I know you all, do you have any questions for me?”

Rosie, a small girl with brown hair puts her hand up. “Have you ever danced Swan Lake?”

I nod. “Lots. It’s my favorite ballet.”

“How many characters have you been?”

“Quite a few. I was Odette when I was sixteen for our Christmas production.”

“I thought everyone danced the Nutcracker at Christmas?” Bailey, a blonde girl, pipes up.

“Sometimes, sometimes not,” I answer. “I did that when I was a bit older than you.”

“I bet you played Clara.”

I don’t know who said that, but I gasp in pretend shock. “How did you know?”

“You look like a Clara,” the same voice says matter-of-factly.

“Have you ever been on a really big theatre stage?” Another voice.

“Yep. Lots of times.”

“What’s it like?” Another.

I smile, remembering the feeling of being free on the stage in the darkness, save for one spotlight on you. “It’s the best thing ever. It’s really fun, and not nearly as scary as you think it’ll be. You’ll see.”

“What if we’re too scared to try?” A small voice asks me. I look in the direction of it, and it belongs to a red-haired girl hiding behind her hand whose name I don’t remember.

“I don’t believe any of you are too scared to try. I bet you’d all be awesome a stage.”

“But there’s so many people.”

“It’s dark,” I counter. “You can’t see them, and you forget all about them when you dance. I promise. And, don’t tell Bianca I said this…” I gesture for them all to lean in, and they do. “But if you’re really, really, really scared, just imagine all of the audience in their underwear with bunny rabbit ears on their head.”

All the girls burst into laughter, giggling uncontrollably. I grin at them all, knowing I’ve made the right decision to help Bianca with them.

If twelve happy, excited faces can’t brighten my day three times a week, then there’s no way I should be out of St. Morris’.

~

The house is eerily quiet with Mom and Dad away on a business trip. It’s the first they’ve taken since I came home, and the freedom is wonderful. There’s no worried eyes glancing at me if I’m still in my pajamas at midday or intent stare on me whenever I go near the cutlery draw.

If I stood a chance at not burning my toast, I’d really enjoy buttering it.

I’m a little scared. The knowledge of what I could do is tormenting me. The weight of my pain from the last few days – although peppered with everything that’s good – is slowly getting too much to bear. Now I’m alone, it feels heavier than ever. So I do what I should do and pick up the phone to call Dr. Hausen before Blake arrives to practice.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Dr. Hausen answers.

“I’m home alone this weekend and I’m scared,” I blurt out.

“What-”

“I’m scared I won’t be strong enough to fight the urges if I have a bad night. The last time I was home alone was the night that was almost my last. What do I do if I feel like that again? Maddie isn’t here this time.”

“Abbi… Abbi,” she says softly. “I need you to breathe for me. Like we practiced before. Slowly.”

She’s right. I need to calm down. I need to breathe. I close my eyes with the phone still against my ear and breathe slowly to Dr. Hausen’s counting. It takes a few minutes, but eventually my breathing goes back to normal.

“Good. That’s good. How are you now?”

“I’m okay. It was just… A moment.”

“We’re all allowed a moment every now and then, Abbi. They make it better – they allow you to let it all out.”

I nod, like I’m reassuring myself. “Right. Moments are okay. I know that.”

“You do know that, and that’s why I’m certain you’ll be fine this weekend. You know how to stop the panic attacks and you know how to battle the urges. The only difference is that this time, you must do it for yourself, and not your parents. That’s all.”

“For myself,” I mutter. “Okay. Myself.” I sigh heavily.

“I’m on call this weekend. If you need me, you know where I am. You can call or you could even come to St. Morris’ if you need the company.”

I promised myself the day I left I’d never go back unless it was for our sessions, but it sounds almost appealing right now. I can’t deny I’m tempted, but I draw on that inner strength everyone is so certain I have and politely refuse.

“Blake will be here tonight to practice, and I can always go and see Bianca in the studio if I need to. I think I’m just panicking for no reason. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince.

“You know where I am if you need anything.” The line clicks off, and I put my cell down.

Deathly silence wraps around me, allowing whispers to nudge at my mind. Allowing twitches to take my fingers. Allowing my teeth to bite down on the inside of my cheek.

I grab the remote and turn on the television to drown it out. Despite what I said to Dr. Hausen only a moment ago, I’m not sure I will be okay. My eyes flick to the clock above the fireplace to see how much longer I have to be alone. Blake should be here any second, so I sit on my hands and blow out my cheeks. But the whispers are still there.