Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen

Wednesday - October

The dance studio buzzed with energy as I stepped inside, dressed in my black leotard and pale pink wrap skirt. My long black hair was pulled into a tidy bun, with the ribbons of my pink pointe shoes tied snugly around my ankles. Jessie was on the floor attempting a split, narrating her every move with dramatic flair to Oliver, who rolled his eyes but grinned nonetheless. Lily sat quietly by the barre, lacing her ballet slippers with her usual careful precision. When she caught my eye, she gave a shy wave, and I smiled back warmly, her quiet demeanor always striking a chord with me.

My mind wandered as I started the class, trying to shake off the events of the morning. Spanish had been... a disaster. Again. The professor had assigned another set of impossible exercises that I barely understood, and Bryan—of course—had made his presence known in the most infuriating way. Every sarcastic remark, every pointed glance—it all replayed in my head like an unwanted highlight reel. And if that wasn't enough, I'd spent yesterday evening at the library working on The Little Prince project with my group. At least that had been somewhat productive. Celeste had taken charge, as usual, and Wes had thrown in a few surprisingly insightful points. Kyle, though, spent half the time texting someone—probably Bryan—and the other half cracking jokes that weren't as funny as he thought. Still, it was miles better than being stuck in a room alone with Bryan.

After calling the kids into a semicircle, the next hour flew by in a blur of pliés, tendus, and laughter. Jessie, ever the dramatic one, lost her balance mid-arabesque, landing in a heap as Oliver quipped something about her "unique technique." The group dissolved into giggles while Lily, as always, moved with quiet focus, her dark eyes darting toward me every now and then as if seeking reassurance. Each time, I gave her an encouraging nod, watching as her posture straightened and her movements gained confidence. Teaching these kids was one of the few times I felt completely in control, like I knew exactly what I was doing. It was a welcome contrast to the chaos of Spanish class and literary analysis.

As the class wound down, I clapped my hands, drawing their attention. "Next week, we're having a 'Bring Your Parent to Practice' day," I announced with a smile, watching their expressions shift from curiosity to excitement. Jessie gasped dramatically, her hand shooting into the air. "Does that mean my mom has to do pliés?" she asked, her green eyes wide with glee. I laughed, nodding. "Yes, Jessie. Everyone's parents are welcome to join in and see what we've been working on. It'll be fun!" Oliver groaned loudly, throwing his hands in the air. "Do dads have to come too? My dad's exercise routine is walking to the fridge!" The other kids erupted into laughter, and I fought back a grin. "Everyone's welcome," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "It's a chance for your families to see how amazing you all are."

Lily hesitated before raising her hand, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if my mom... um... can't come?" Her soft question tugged at my heart, and I knelt slightly to meet her gaze. "That's okay, Lily," I said gently. "You can bring someone else who's important to you. And if you'd rather, you don't have to bring anyone. We'll still have fun." She nodded, her cheeks turning pink, and I saw the tension leave her shoulders as she gave me a small, grateful smile.

As the kids began to scatter, grabbing their water bottles and chattering about their plans for next week, I packed up my things, listening to their excitement echo in the studio. Jessie was already planning how to "teach" her mom pliés, while Oliver debated whether his dad should even try to participate. Walking out of the studio, I let their enthusiasm linger in my mind, a small smile tugging at my lips.

—--

Thursday - October

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of Isabella's playlist. My body feels heavy, reluctant to start the day, but the thought of my art class with Izzy pushes me to swing my legs out of bed. After a quick shower, I towel-dry my hair, leaving it loose and straight as usual. My reflection in the mirror of my messy room stares back at me as I pull on a beige striped sweater, layering it with a warm brown puffer vest. I pair it with light-wash jeans and my favorite beige Converse. The final touch is my silver pendant necklace, which I clasp on quickly before throwing my sketchbook and pencils into my bag amidst the chaos of scattered notebooks and pens.

In the small shared kitchen, the smell of coffee greets me. Izzy, already dressed in black leggings and an oversized cream sweater that somehow looks effortlessly stylish, leans casually against the counter, sipping her mug. Her long blonde hair is tied into a low ponytail with strands framing her face. "Morning," she chirps, smiling. "Nice puffer vest. Very pumpkin patch vibes." I roll my eyes but smile. "Thanks. I call it 'Hot Chocolate Chic.'" She snorts, grabbing her bag. "Let's go. I need caffeine that doesn't taste like dorm coffee."

The air outside is getting colder day by day, autumn leaves crunching underfoot as we walk. The golden light filtering through the trees makes everything feel like a fall postcard. Izzy chatters excitedly about the upcoming Halloween party our friends are planning. "I'm thinking of going as a witch, but, like, a fashionable witch. What about you?" I shrug. "I haven't decided. Maybe something simple." She gasps in mock horror. "Amber Lee, you cannot go simple. You have to at least match my fabulousness." I laugh, shaking my head. "Fine, but don't expect much. I'm barely surviving my schedule right now."

The art classroom smells of paint and paper, the kind of creative chaos that feels oddly calming. Sunlight streams through the large windows, lighting up the rows of easels. Izzy and I settle in, and our professor, a quirky woman with paint-streaked hands, announces today's portrait activity. "I'm making your eyebrows look amazing," Izzy declares with a mischievous grin. "Just don't make me look like I have caterpillars on my face," I reply, earning a laugh. The class passes in the quiet scratch of pencils and murmured advice. True to her word, Izzy draws a flattering version of me, though she exaggerates my bun from yesterday into something cartoonishly huge, which makes us both laugh.

After our art class, Izzy practically bounced out of the building, determination written all over her face. "We're going Halloween costume shopping," she declared, her blonde ponytail swaying as she grabbed my arm.

I sighed, already knowing there was no escaping this. "Can we at least eat first?"

She spun around, looking scandalized. "Amber, Halloween costume shopping is an art form. You can't shop on a full stomach—it ruins the creativity!"

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips. "Fine, but this better not take all day."

The costume store was a whirlwind of glitter, fabric, and fake cobwebs. Izzy darted from one rack to another, holding up everything from sparkly wands to giant witch hats. Meanwhile, I lingered near the accessories, debating if a simple gold laurel crown could pass as a costume.

"Amber!" Izzy called out, holding up a flowing white dress with gold accents. "What about this? Greek goddess vibes. It's perfect for you!"

I raised an eyebrow. "You think I can pull that off?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "You are a goddess. It's not even up for debate. Now go try it on."

Ten minutes later, I was standing in front of a mirror, the dress draped over me. It actually fit perfectly, the soft fabric cascading to the floor and the gold details catching the light just right. Izzy appeared behind me, her grin wide. "I told you. You look amazing."

"You just want me to match your vibe," I teased, but I couldn't deny that I felt pretty in it.

"Obviously," she replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "But also, I'm right."

Izzy had her costume sorted—a black dress with sheer sleeves and a dramatic cape for her "fashionable witch" look—and was now throwing every gold accessory she could find into my hands. "You need bangles, earrings, a statement necklace—oh, and don't forget the sandals!"

By the time we left the store, I felt like I'd been outfitted for Mount Olympus itself. Izzy, carrying her own bags of witchy props, declared the trip a success.

"Can we eat now?" I asked, my stomach growling.

"Yes, fine," she said with a wave of her hand. "But only because you're going to need your energy to pull this off at the party."

We ended up at a little burger joint nearby, stuffing ourselves with fries and milkshakes while planning out the rest of the party details. Izzy, of course, had ideas for everything from themed cocktails to dramatic entrances.

"You're going to look incredible," she said between bites. "Everyone's going to be like, 'Who's that goddess?'"

I laughed, shaking my head. "And I'll just point to you and say, 'She made me do it.'"

She winked, taking a sip of her milkshake. "As long as you give me the credit, we're good."

By the time we left, the sun was beginning to set, casting everything in a warm golden glow. My costume was ready, my belly was full, and for the first time in days, I felt like I could actually breathe.

After leaving the mall, Izzy looped her arm through mine, bags swinging at our sides. "You know," she started, her tone conspiratorial, "we should totally head back to the dorm, throw on face masks, and do absolutely nothing. Reward ourselves for all that hard work."

I laughed, adjusting my grip on my own bag, which mostly contained the essentials for my Greek goddess Halloween costume. "What hard work? You made me try on, like, four different pairs of sandals and a cape."

"Correction," Izzy said with a grin. "I saved you from showing up to the party looking basic. You're welcome."

The walk back to campus was filled with Izzy's non-stop chatter about the Halloween party and whether we needed a fog machine or not. I mostly nodded along, occasionally throwing in a "Sure, Izzy," or "That sounds great," while mentally preparing for the rest of the day.

By the time we got back to the dorm, the familiar chaos of our shared space greeted us. My desk still had an explosion of Spanish notes from yesterday's study session, and Izzy's side of the room was adorned with half-completed Pinterest-inspired décor for the party.

Izzy flopped onto the couch, immediately pulling out her laptop. "What's the plan for tonight? Babysitting again?"

"Yup," I said, kicking off my sneakers and putting my bags on the chair. "But I also need to clean up this disaster zone before I leave. Lily's house is so organized, I feel like a tornado when I walk in."

Izzy grinned. "Well, good luck. Maybe Bryan will drop by again to make things interesting."

"Don't remind me," I groaned, grabbing a water bottle from the mini-fridge. "The last thing I need is another snarky comment about my Crocs or my Spanish skills."

"Come on, you love the attention," Izzy teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

I threw a pillow at her, which she dodged effortlessly, laughing. "I'm leaving before you start your matchmaking nonsense again."

"Sure, sure," she said, not looking up as I grabbed my stuff to head out. "Say hi to Lily for me!"

As I stepped out of the dorm and into the crisp evening air, I couldn't help but roll my eyes, though a small smile crept onto my face. Izzy always knew how to lighten the mood, even when I didn't want to admit it.

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