I wake to the sound of Toni barging into my room. âEeee, I need to check my panties!â
As he charges into the bathroom, I slowly sit up and rub my groggy eyes, my dry mouth, my tight forehead. I listen to the water running from the faucet and try to discern what heâs doing, but itâs way too early in the morning to think.
âFalse alarm!â When he reappears, his smile is incorrigible. âI just got schooled by Max Butcher. He gave me a semi. I also thought maybe Iâd crapped my panties. He makes angry look like youâd risk your life to be manhandled by him. I couldnât understand a word his luscious mouth was saying with all my brain blood in my cock. Whatâs going on?â
I squint at him. âHuh? Max yelled at you?â
Gripping his waist, he leans on one hip. âIt was more of a deep, threatening tone than a yell. But Iâm in trouble, thatâs for sure. Iâve been a naughty boy and he needs to spank me. At least. . . thatâs what I heard.â
âWait.â I shake my head. âWhat time is it? Where did you even see him?â
âAt the gym, darlin. Iâm there at five most mornings. This body doesnât come without maintenance.â
âWas he okay? Like, was he acting normal?â
âHe was boxing with his dad; they do that a lot.â He wiggles his eyebrows. âI like to watch.â
An image of Max boxing out his frustrations from last night invades my mind, warming my skin. I struggle to swallow. âHeâs ah â âI clear my throat. âHeâs probably mad at you for leaving me.â
âUh, exqueeze me? We left each other. Mutually.â
âYes, I know that, Toni,â I say as my eyes land on a glass of water and a note: âWe gotta stop meeting like this, Alice.â My heart flutters at the words.
Max slept next to me last night.
I stare at the spot where heâd dropped his clothes and get that uncomfortable feeling again.
âWhat is that?â Toni lunges towards me and snatches the note from my tabletop. He reads it, eyes sparkling. I canât help but smile at my best-friendâs enthusiasm.
âOh. My. Giddy aunt! Is this from Max? You hooked up with him? He stayed the night? What did you do? How big was it?â
I roll my eyes. âTechnically, I hooked up with Luke.â
His jaw gapes. âYou hooked up with them both?â
âNo, it wasnât li-â
He reaches for me and caresses my cheek, his eyes feigning earnestness as he begins to serenade me. He sings Wind Beneath My Wings by Bette Milder. I throw my head back and break into laughter before joining in the song. âYouâre everything I would like to be.â
We have a good giggle together. Before I roll out of bed and get ready for ballet school, I fill Toni in on last night â the whole eventful lot.
His shoulders sag. âIâm so disappointed. So he never touched you? Not even a little finger action? That is so . . . un-Max Butcher. You really are an asexual pigeon.â
I make pigeon noises as I pull on my sneakers. âI fell asleep. I canât believe I just fell asleep.â I run my fingers up through my hair and pull it into a high ballet bun.
Iâm completely packed and ready to go when I glance out the window and see a police car roll onto my driveway. Braidy and Luke step out, both dressed in uniform.
âOh crap.â I wince.
Toni gasps. âDid you just swear, Cassidy Slater?â He rushes over to the window and his eyebrows shoot up. âOh crap.â
âI swear my life is too eventful now,â I moan, grabbing my bag and rushing down the stairs to answer the door before they can ring the bell. As I swing the door open, I feign surprise. âOh. Hey?â
Braidy is standing with his finger in the air, having been about ready to press the button. When I appear in the door jamb, he takes a polite step backwards. Heâs very formal. âCassidy, Iâm glad youâre still home. . . Is he here?â
I nearly cough. âWho? Max?â I bounce my eyes between Luke and Braidy. Oh my God, Iâm in some kind of trouble. I stare at Lukeâs face; the lower part is bruised â red and purple and swollen. âOh, Luke. Iâm so sorry. Are you okay?â As a shadow hovers over me, he glances pass my shoulder, swallows hard, and takes a step back. When itâs just Toni who appears at my side, Luke relaxes instantly.
Toni peruses their police uniforms. âWhatâs with the formalities? Am I in trouble? Please tell me Iâm in trouble!â
Braidy takes a deep breath. âI didnât realise youâd be here.â
âYou should always assume Iâll be here,â Toni says with an edge to his voice.
Braidyâs eyes crinkle as he forces a smile. Then he looks back at me and says, âWe were just on patrol in your neighbourhood and thought weâd make a quick house call to see if youâre alright after last night.â
âUm.â I falter and glance quickly at Luke. âOkay. Yeah, Iâm fine. But Iâm not the one who got hit in the face.â
Luke clasps his hands in front of him. âIâm fine, Cassidy. We just wanted to make sure you were.â
âWell, thanks. I am.â
Lukeâs face is tight and his eyes are evasive. âGood to hear.â
I brush a non-existent strand of hair off my face and give a small shrug. âKewl.â
Toni presses his shoulder to mine. âAwkies.â
âSo,â Luke pauses with his own thoughts. âJust be mindful of the company you keep.â He nods once and walks back to his car. Opening up the passenger side, he puts one foot in and stops. âThatâs all,â he says, looking at his partner.
Braidyâs eyebrows lift and he gives his thighs a single tap. âAlright then. Iâll call you, Toni.â
âArrest me,â Toni purrs.
Briady chuckles, but it doesnât reach his eyes. âMaybe next time.â
We watch them drive from the house and out onto the main road before finally relaxing enough to look at each other. âWhat was that all about?â I ask, wide-eyed.
Toni grabs my bag and slings it over my shoulder. âMax Butcher.â
âYeah, but it just doesnât make sense. I canât. . . I donât even know what to say.â Shaking my head, I stand on my tippy toes and kiss Toni on the cheek. Iâve probably missed warm-up already. âI donât have time. Iâve got to go.â
I run to the garage as Toni shouts, âGood luck!â
âWhat?â I stop and face him.
âWith Sugar Plum.â He gives me two animated thumbs up. âYouâll get it.â
I exhale loudly. âThanks, Toni. You really do listen to me when I talk, hey?â
âI judge you tooâ â he shrugs â âif that makes it less creepy.â
âNaw, and I appreciate that.â I jump into my car, turn the ignition on, and scroll through my song library until I find Tchaikovsky. My mind races with thoughts of Max and Luke. A strange flutter fills the pit of my belly. I rub my cheeks and will myself to focus on the music to drown out all other distractions until after 5:00 p.m.
When I finally run into the hall, I stare straight at my locker, ignoring the girls already halfway through a sequence at the barre. Iâve completely missed our morning Pilates session. As KelIy offers advice, her voice breaks through the loud music playing. âLoose arms, Kate.â
Sitting down on the floor, I pull my pointe shoes out and quickly pull them on.
âRelax your shoulders, Lucy,â Kelly calls out, walking around the room.
I take a deep breath, stand, and join in the sequence. My arms arch backwards before sweeping forward and moving into position as if Iâd been there the whole time. We concentrate on our upper body, moving through five shaped positions, focusing on our lines and the elongation of our necks and décolletage. It quickly becomes me. I love the way the music and my movements seem to be one entity. Itâs hard to think about anything other than my body.
After several more sequences and four more hours, we retire to our small group training sessions.
âCassidy.â Kelly rushes over to me as I drink water from my bottle. I prepare myself for a tongue lashing, but she just says, âI hope youâre going to audition for the role of Sugar Plum. I know youâre usually Clara, but the ballet mistress and I both think youâre ready for some diversity.â
I breathe out fast. âOh, yeah. I will be.â
âGood.â She nods and tilts her head. Her neck is long and elegant; itâs as if sheâd been engineered to be a ballerina. âYou know the choreography inside and out. Youâve been distracted this last week with other things, but I know you and nothing has come between you and ballet before. Just let me know if itâs something you need help with, okay?â
I force a smile. Iâm finding this attitude towards my recent social activities tiresome. They are underestimating me; I can be both a girl interested in a boy and an athlete moving ahead in her field. In fact, I find it a little bit sexist that everyone thinks Iâm going to suddenly lose my identity just because Iâve found another facet of myself. âIâm fine, but thank you.â
Several girls are standing behind Kelly, eyeing me every so often. Their giggling and chatting can only mean one thing, they are eager to discuss more about the image of Max and I from my birthday. I tell them the truth â just like Iâve been doing every day since it was posted.
Nothing happened.
Iâm not sure why they donât believe me. Maybe itâs got something to do with the big frickinâ goofy grin that stretches my cheeks whenever I hear his name.
I drive home and itâs only when I pull into my garage that I check my phone. I lean back in my seat and watch the roller door hit the pavers. I could just fall asleep right here. I have a voicemail from a private number and a message from Toni, but my eyes get heavy as I stare at the screen. I bat my eyelids and then close them completely. I wiggle my toes, getting comfortable. My breathing deepens. Suddenly my phone vibrates and I jerk upright. Fumbling to pull it to my ear, my eyes open at half-mast. âHello?â
âIs this Cassidy Slater?â a strong, sturdy voice asks.
I sit up and rub my eyes to life. âYes.â
âMy name is Michael. Iâm an associate of Mr Stormâs. He has a proposition for you. When can you meet him?
Frick.
âUm.â I rub an increasingly moist palm down my thigh.
âWill tomorrow at 12:00 p.m. suffice?â
âNo.â I clear my throat and try to keep my voice steady. âUm, I have rehearsals.â
âAfter five then?â
âAh. . .â I squint at nothing in particular and strain to find a reasonable excuse to object, but I come up short. âYes. Yes, I can do that. Where will I be meeting him?â
âI will send a car to collect you tomorrow. What time suits you?â
âA car. Fancy.â
âNot really. Itâs just general procedure, Ms Slater.â
âUm, no I didnât mean, like, fancy.â I chuckle nervously. âNot like I was being treated or ya know, fancy, like, la di da. . .â I slap my forehead. âIâll be home by five thirty.â
His voice is mirthless. âWe will collect you at six then.â
âDo you know what this is about?â
âNo.â
I take a quick, uneasy breath. âAh. Okay.â
âSee you tomorrow.â
âOkay.â