It’s been almost a week since Professor Danner dropped the bomb on us, and I still don’t have a clue what I could possibly write about. What genre, what plot, which characters… Nothing.
Mind: blank.
Anxiety levels: spiraling out of control.
That’s how I know I need a ballet class more than my next breath.
Adelaide isn’t teaching my group when I get to The Dance Palace, but she lets me tag along anyway. She knows my head is troubled for real when I drop here unannounced, agreeing to dance in whichever class she’s choreographing at the moment. This one is less advanced than my usual group and they’re rehearsing for the Christmas recital, but I follow the flow of the lesson as if it were my own.
Forty minutes later, the class ends and my boss, teacher and friend comes up to me with her signature bright smile. “What a lovely surprise, Grace.”
I don’t even pretend to have it together. I shake my head and let out a dramatic sigh. “I have a lot on my mind today.”
She gives me a motherly frown and puts a comforting hand on my arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Do I? The project isn’t the only thing I’m worried about, and that’s the worst thing about all of this. Because it’s not just one thing.
To start off, I still haven’t talked to Aaron. He sent me a text yesterday asking me if I was alive, and because I love him too much and don’t want to be a jerk, I replied a concise ‘yes’ and left it at that. I’m aware that we need to have an honest conversation; I just don’t feel ready enough to confront everything that lies dormant in my heart.
And then there’s Cal. Stupid, caring, cuddly Cal.
Ever since he assured me I could confide in him whenever I was ready, the dangerous idea of taking the lid off my past and set it free advanced to the forefront of my mind.
The sole reason I’m not more open about my assault is because I refuse to be pitied and treated differently for it. What I went through shouldn’t have happened in the first place, and it changed the way my mind and heart worked, but I’m not going to be defined by it.
I refuse to. I’m more than a victim. I’m a survivor.
I’m a whole woman. I’m not broken even if smaller parts of me might be.
I’m a fighter, and I will rebuild myself no matter how long it takes or how uncomfortable it makes me feel.
When a vase shatters and you try to put the broken pieces back together, they never fit again. Not perfectly. Not in the way they used to. There may be cracks in the new vase, but it’s thanks to those fissures that sunlight filters through. Life thrives under its glow, grows through the cracks, and blooms anew.
I guess that makes me a broken vase, but I couldn’t be prouder of it.
“Just stressed about school.” I shrug. And just for good measure, I add, “I also got into an argument with my cousin Aaron and I need to talk to him, but I keep putting it off.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “I know how close you two are, dear, and I’m sure whatever it is that happened you’ll figure it out because that’s what people who love each other do.”
“Thank you.” I mimic her warm smile. Adelaide radiates so much calm and confidence I can’t help but agree with everything she says.
“As for school, what is it that you’re stressed about?”
Another dramatic sigh escapes my lips. “I have to write a book for class, and I have no idea what I want to do. Literally nothing. Not even the genre.”
“When’s the deadline?” I tell her. “Oh, you’ve got plenty of time! Don’t worry one bit, Grace. Inspiration always comes when you least expect it.”
Waiting for inspiration has always worked for me, but each time I’m afraid my philosophy of sitting and just thinking about the story until creativity strikes will fail me. It might take me a bit longer to figure things out, but once inspiration comes knocking at my door, I’m unstoppable. I just can’t force myself to do anything, ever—not choreographies, not going out, and certainly not writing, if I’m not in the right mood for it. It has to feel right. It’s a damn curse.
“Crossing my fingers.” I give her a small, almost weak smile, as I indeed cross my fingers.
She shakes her head, amused. “You’re such a gem, Grace. You’ll be just fine. How’s the rehearsal going with the little ones, by the way?”
We keep chatting for a bit until her next class starts ten minutes later, and by the time I’m out on the street again, the fog in my brain has cleared. Not completely, but enough to text Aaron.
***
My cousin lives in a one-bedroom apartment a couple of blocks away from The Spoon. Since he’s always roomed with his friends, I asked him shortly after he moved in if he missed coming home to a house full of people. He snorted and told me he would rather eat dog shit.
Apparently, he’s too old and sophisticated now for the Warlington-student lifestyle even though he still attends every official and unofficial party in town. Figure that one out.
I ring his doorbell a little over an hour after leaving TDP, and it doesn’t take him long to answer the door.
“Hey, G. Come in.”
When he greets me at the door with that wide smile of his, no one would guess we aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now.
Gah. I love him too much to stay mad at him for long. Still, there are a couple of things I need to make very clear, and I won’t leave without his understanding and a promise to do better.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks me as I sit down on one of the tall kitchen stools. “I’ve got some of that iced tea you like so much.”
I can’t help the small smile. “Sure, I’ll have one.”
He passes me a bottle and opens a can of strawberry flavored soda for himself. “I know why you’re here,” he starts after taking a sip and making a face because, as much as he loves strawberry-flavored anything, he can’t stand sparkly drinks. “And I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. So fucking sorry, Grace. I shouldn’t have acted like an ass and I’m ashamed of the things I said to Cal. I already apologized to him and all’s good, but I can’t stand the thought of you being angry at me. I can’t.”
I already knew he’d talked to Cal and even bought him dinner, or so he’d texted me a couple of days ago. But despite everything, Cal isn’t the reason I’m here.
“Okay, let’s start from the beginning.” I take a moment to collect my thoughts, making sure I remember everything I wanted to tell him. His eyes never leave mine. “You’re the closest thing I have to a brother, Aaron, and I love you as one. I know you didn’t mean any harm and for that I forgive you.”
His chest shakes with a deep, relieved sigh. I raise a hand. “But.”
“There’s always a but.” He smiles weakly and takes another sip of his evil drink.
“I know you love me and always try to do what’s best for me, but this whole…” I gesture towards him. “This whole overprotective act needs to stop. Now.”
“Grace—”
I hold up that same hand again. “No, I’m not done.” When he purses his lips, I continue. “I really appreciate you looking out for me, but that’s all. This time you’ve crossed a line coming for one of my friends, Aaron, and I don’t want you to do it ever again.
“Trust me that I know better than anyone that what happened to me was awful, and it changed us. Both of us. I know that, but I refuse to be coddled. I refuse to be treated like I’m made of glass, and anyone could break me any second. I’m tough, Aaron, believe it or not, and I’m not naive. I can tell when someone wants to be my friend and when they only want to get into my pants. Cal is the former.”
His lips are pressed on a thin, hard line and it’s painfully obvious that he’s having a hard time processing everything I’ve just said. But I’m on a roll and I can’t stop now, or I’ll never get this weight off my chest.
“I know my fathers trust you to keep me safe, but I can do that on my own. I’ll always appreciate that you have my back just like I’ve got yours, but that’s it.” I choose my next words carefully. In the end, it all comes down to this. “It’s… insulting that you think I’m not strong enough to take care of myself. That because of what happened to me, I’m this broken person with an equally broken judgment. It makes me feel like a child.”
The horror on his face almost makes me wince. “Grace, no, I… Fuck.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “I didn’t know you felt like that. Fuck. I’m such a fucking asshole.”
“No, hey.” I get up and round the counter and grip both of his arms firmly. “You’re not an asshole, okay? You’re just an overprotective, caring cousin who made a mistake. But I need you to do better from now on. Can you do that?”
Slowly, he nods. “It will take time. I’m used to… to this behavior, I guess.”
“I know.” I give his arms a squeeze. “All I wanted was to hear you say you’ll try.”
“Of course I’ll try, Grace. Whatever you need of me, I’m here. I’ll always be here.” There’s a new resolve in his voice and when he pulls me into a hug, his grip feels stronger than ever before. “I’m sorry I made you feel like a child, and I’m sorry I snapped at Cal too. It was a dick move.”
I would agree, but I don’t want to rub salt in his wound, so I stay quiet and squeeze him tighter. “I love you,” I murmur against his chest.
“I love you too, G.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry again.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“But—”
“I’ll literally kick your ass, A.”
His deep laughter shakes me right before he pulls away. “Damn, you’ve gotten aggressive.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Always have been.”
“Not sure about that.” He takes another sip of his soda and somehow, I know what he’s going to say before the words come out of this mouth. “So… You’re friends with Cal, huh?”
My narrowed eyes stay narrowed. “What about it?”
He shrugs like he’s not all that interested in my answer. I know damn well he is. “Just surprising. I don’t remember your last guy friend.”
Smooth. That’s because I’ve never had any. Sure, I was friendly with a couple of guys in high school, but we never made plans together outside of class. My friend groups growing up consisted exclusively of girls and still do.
Except now there’s Cal.
“He’s cool to hang out with. Laid-back. Funny.” I stop myself right there because despite his promise to not be an overprotective mother hen, I suspect Aaron is going to read too much into my words anyway.
Sure enough, he looks at me like he already did. “He doesn’t know about the assault.”
“I haven’t told him yet.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Yet?”
“I’ve been toying with the idea of talking to him about it for a while now,” I admit with a shrug. “It’s always the same thing, though. I don’t want the pity stares or my friends to treat me differently, so I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
He sighs. “I kinda hate to say this because I’m still adjusting to the whole ‘not being a protective shit’ shebang, but I know Cal and yes, he’s going to get mad and he’ll want to murder that fucker with his bare hands, but he won’t treat you differently. Just tell him what you told me, and you’ll be fine.”
“I’ll sleep on it.” I nod, unable to think about this any longer. I’ve had the longest day, and I can’t deal with another heavy thought right now.
Fortunately, Aaron always comes to the rescue. “A couple of friends asked me to come to the bar for a bit. Wanna tag along?”
I think about it. On the one hand I know I need a distraction as Emily is busy tonight, but on the other hand, I don’t think I’ll know slash be comfortable around his friends.
So maybe because I’m a little shit, I ask, “Can I ask Cal if he wants to come?”
Aaron glares at me. I flash him the most innocent of my smiles.
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes. “But don’t get too cozy while I’m nearby.”
“Aaron.”
“I’m joking. Just joking.”
“You totally are not.”
He gives me a guilty look and I shake my head. “Love you, G.”
I smack his arm as I reach for my untouched iced tea. “You’re lucky I love you too, dumbass.”
