CHAPTER SIX

Chapter Six

On Sunday, after Dad and I attend Mass, he drops me off at school with a cheery wave.

     I feel like I have gained five pounds just spending two days with my father. I tried to purge whatever I could but still, I feel the greasy fat layering itself on my hips, stomach and thighs.

    I change into my pastel yellow leotards, pale pink tights and bright red leg warmers. I can wear such colours only when Ms. Azizen is not around like on Sundays. If she could see me now, her features would twist so you think she had licked lime.

    The studio is almost crowded with ballerinas stretching and practising their routines. I can feel their judgement gazes as I saunter in, desperate not to make eye contact as I search for Cleo. They must be thinking about how much weight I have gained in the last two days. I try to ignore their eyes and take my position on the barre.

     “Gigi, there you are!” Cleo appears behind me in white leotards, white tights and pink leg warmers. She is holding a water bottle and one of her yellow sweaters in her hand. Her face is heavily made up: dark mascara highlighting her naturally thick lashes, eye liner giving her the cat-eye look, blood red lipstick on her pouty lips and fake blush on her cheeks. It makes me painfully conscious of my own bare face. “You look different,” she tells me as she tilts her head and stares at me through narrowed eyes. “I thought you were never coming back,” she says, an attempt at a joke.

     “How do I look different?” I force myself to ask even though I am scared of what the answer might be.

     “Your skin is glowing and you do not look tired anymore!” she informs me happily.

     “I looked tired before?” I ask, aghast that Dad might be right.

    Cleo bites her lower lip and looks away, probably embarrassed that she said something that she did not want to. “You were just a bit stressed, nothing serious!” Then she pulls me into a hug and says, “You look so much better now!”

    “Let us practise together as you said.” I am desperate to leave the topic of how stressed and fatigued I looked when I was too busy memorising a role I would not get.

    Cleo steps back and nibbles on her lower lip with her eyes downcast. I know that what she is about to say will make me so annoyed. “I am afraid that we cannot practise together, Gigi.”

     “Why not?” I ask through clenched teeth. When I realise that I am glaring at her, I shut my eyes and suck in a deep, calming breath. Why am I so angry all of a sudden?

     “Well,” Cleo says after she had cleared her throat, “I would have to be practising with Adam. He is my partner for the dance and besides, I already have the role memorised.”

      Anger as hot as the flames of a bonfire, rapidly grows and spreads in my veins, corrupting my every thought. I cannot believe that Cleo will dance in the arms of the boy I have loved for the most part of my life. I will not feel so hurt if it was another girl but it hurts so much worse since it is my best friend.

     Will she fall in love with him? Will he fall in love with her? Of course he will. No red-blooded male will pick me over Cleo. The urge to scream and cry overwhelms me. I tell myself that I am being silly. Adam is not mine, he can fall in love with whomsoever he pleases.

     “That is fine,” I choke out, trying to sound like everything is fine and I am not having a total breakdown at the moment. “You need to practise for the big day!”

      “That is the same thing Adam said! We are going to dedicate the rest of the day and the week to perfecting our routine.” She is all smiles as she talks and gesturing cheerily.

      Her words cut deep like a sharp butcher knife. What about our date? Has Adam forgotten that we are supposed to go out tonight? “We have a date!” I blurt out.

     Cleo frowns. “You have a date?” she asks as if it is the most surprising thing in the world. I nod. “With Adam?!” I nod again, annoyed that she is just like the people who were staring at Adam and I as we walked down the hallway with disbelief etched on their faces. As if it was a taboo for Adam to be with me.

      “Why do you sound so surprised?” I ask her, sounding as hurt as I feel.

      She giggles. “Well, Adam never mentioned something like that. Is that what he asked you when he wanted me to excuse you guys?”

     “Yes,” I reply shyly.

     “That is so cute! I never knew that Adam was interested in dating. Everyone says he is gay.”

          “Apparently, he is not!” I say with a small laugh.

         “Aw, you charmed the shoes out of him!”

          “We are going to a poetry reading this evening,” I tell her smugly. I am pleased that I am the girl who got Adam Adie, the heartthrob of ABS.

          Cleo sighs wistfully. “I am so jealous of you!”

         Someone clears their throat behind me. I turn to see Adam looking at me with his kissable lips stretched into a grin. I wonder how his lips would feel pressed against mine. I am getting wobbly knees just thinking about it! He looks so good dressed in leotard and tights. I can see the very form of his sculpted thighs and abs.

         “Gigi,” Adam says as he reaches out to hold my hand. I think I hear Cleo squeal behind me. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

      

“Oh, really?” I ask, pleased that Adam was missing me.

          “Oh, yes. It is about our date. . .”

           “What about it?”

            He sighs then says, “I do not think that we can still go out today.”

           I mentally wince as the air is knocked out of my chest by disappointment. I try not to sound as hurt as I feel. “Why not?” I remember that Cleo is behind me, hearing every word that is being exchanged. I do not think that I have been more embarrassed in my life.

                “I have to practise with Cleo. We have to be perfect on stage.” He draws circles on the back of my hand with his thumb as he speaks. “But do not worry,” he leans in and whispers, “We will still have our date.” The stubble on his chin tickles my cheek as he presses his lips to it. I hold on to his forearms so I will not fall over.