The Player

Chapter 28

Brielle

6:01 PM

Today was the day.

Out of my entire dance career, today was the day that would determine everything. It would determine

if I would go to the Joffrey School of Ballet in New York, my dream school. If I didn't get in, I would have

no clue what to do.

Today, the scouts were coming to watch our high school's dance showcase. We have one of the best

dance programs in California, and every year they send people to see new talent. Since I was one of

the best dancers in the program, if I did well I could really impress them. Then, just maybe, they may

offer me a spot in their program after high school.

However, there was one giant wrench in this plan. Christopher. Mrs. Riley forced me to teach him

dance if I wanted to perform, and now he had to do the showcase with me. Ever since we started

dating, we had been practicing non-stop. He insisted, since he knew how much this opportunity meant

to me.

But now that we were broken up, we hadn't practiced in days. Since we hadn't talked since then, I

didn't even know if he was still coming. I wasn't even sure if I wanted him to.

I stood in front of the mirror, pulling my long, chestnut hair into a tight bun atop my head. Right now, I

couldn't focus on us. I needed to get into performance mode.

I started my usual routine for before performances. I plugged in my earbuds, blasting Beyoncé as I

continued to get ready, dancing and singing while doing so. Usually this helped to calm my nerves, but

today I had no luck. The butterflies in my stomach refused to rest.

I made myself a quick dinner before calling Scott downstairs so that we could leave. I needed to arrive

at school early so that I could practice my routine. I had changed some parts so that if Christopher

didn't show I would still be able to perform.

Usually I would ask Sam to drive me, but after Scott and I's heart-to-heart, I suddenly felt much closer

to him. I wanted to spend as much time as I could while I did, just in case it happened to wear off.

"I'm coming!" he yelled from upstairs, however his pounding footsteps were already a dead giveaway.

"You excited?" he asked once he arrived in the kitchen.

Nervously, I took a big gulp of my water. "I think so." He rolled his eyes.

"You say this every time and then you kill it," he placed his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. "Don't

worry."

I wanted to tell him that this time was different. This time I had to rely on my ex-boyfriend to succeed.

This time I was so emotionally drained from this week that I didn't even know if I had the strength to

perform.

But, instead of worrying him with my problems, I just nodded my head.

He stared at me with a knowing look. "I've known you for sixteen years Brielle, I can tell when

something's bothering you."

Damn. I knew that our conversation made us closer, but I didn't know that it gave him telepathic

abilities.

"I'm just worried about having to dance with Christopher."

His body tensed at the mention of him. "Don't worry about that jerk."

"But what if he doesn't show up." I felt myself began to grow even more anxious. "Or even worse, what

if he does? I don't know if I can handle it."

He sat down on the chair across from me, locking eyes with me. "Brielle, you are the most talented and

strong person that I know. So much has happened to you this past week, and yet here you are, still

going."

I didn't ever think of it like that, but I guess in a way he was right. I could have been laying in my bed

right now, wallowing in my own pity instead of chasing my dreams. I guess I was a little stronger than I

thought.

"So, if anyone can pull this off, it's you."

I smiled. It felt good to know that no matter what happened, I could always count on my brother to be

my biggest cheerleader.

"What are we waiting for," I said as I rose up from my seat, suddenly energized. "Let's do this!"

Scott let out a loud whoop, my energy contagious. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Somehow, I managed to hold on to my positivity all the way to school. Whenever I felt like worrying, I

just repeated my inner mantra.

I am strong. I am beautiful. I am fearless.

Somehow, those words alone were enough to stop the negative thoughts about Christopher in their

tracks. When we arrived at school, Scott drove to the front and parked.

"You ready?"

I nodded my head. It was now or never.

"Mom, Dad, and I will be in the front row cheering you on. If you ever feel nervous, just look for us." I let

out a deep breath. The idea of them cheering me on helped to calm me down even more.

I waved him off as he sped away. I suppressed my upcoming nerves as I made my way to the

auditorium. I was greeted by my dance teacher Ms. Riley, a smile stretched across her face.

She was writing on a clipboard with one hand and talking into a walkie-talkie with the other. Everyone

flurried around her as they prepared for the show, all creating an atmosphere of completely chaos. At

the center was Ms. Riley, barking orders to control the hectic scene.

When she spotted me she took a break, pulling me into a tight hug. "Brielle, are you excited?" She took

a step back from me, scanning me up and down. "You look beautiful! The Joffrey scouts are going to

love you."

I chewed on my lip. "Do you really think so?"

She scoffed. She always grew annoyed when I lacked self-confidence.

"Are you kidding me? You are the best dancer in our entire program. If they don't choose you, I will club

them over the head with this clipboard myself." For some, reason I wouldn't put it past her.

"How's it going with your partner?" she asked absent-mindedly, preoccupied with her clipboard once

more. "Did you manage to make him look somewhat good?" My heart dropped at the mention of him.

I am strong. I am beautiful. I am fearless. I repeated.

I mustered up all the strength within me to stop my resolve from cracking. "He actually learned a lot."

I cracked a smile, remembering our first lesson when he literally had two left feet. He had come a long

way since then, and now, our routine looked impressive. I would love to take all the credit as being a

great teacher, but the praise really went to him. He worked hard, and even practiced after our sessions

just so that we could do well.

"Well, I did not expect that," she laughed. "When I first forced you to dance with him, I was only doing it

to teach you a lesson. I was planning on ending the punishment after a week or two. But then you guys

seemed to be really enjoying each other, so I thought: why the hell not?"

My jaw dropped. I wasn't supposed to be forced to dance with him?

My mind couldn't help but wander to what would have happened if Mrs. Riley didn't force us together.

We wouldn't have dated, and I wouldn't have had so many amazing memories. I wouldn't have learned

to surf, which I do at least once a week now, and I would have never learned so much unnecessary

information about professional football teams.

But then again, if we didn't dance together, he would have never had the chance to hurt me. I wouldn't

have to deal with the constant ache in my chest.

But for some strange reason, for some reason that I would love so badly to change, if I had the chance

to do it all over again, without Christopher, I wouldn't.

The revelation caused something inside me to change indescribably.

"Where is that hunk anyway?"

Her question brought me back to earth. I had forgotten that there was a chance that he still wouldn't

show up. I was about to explain to her that he wasn't going to be dancing with me when the door to the

auditorium door opened.

The figure that entered caused my breath to hitch.

Christopher made his way toward me. As he grew closer, I could inspect his face more clearly. The

swelling around his eye had decreased significantly, and the purple bruising was barely noticeable. I

didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that he had come.

Mrs. Riley sensed my staring and turned around to find the culprit of my gaze.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, waving him over. "We were just talking about you. Apparently, you are

quite the dance student!"

A small smile stretched across his lips. "I just had a really good teacher."

I felt a slight blush move across my cheeks as I diverted my eyes from his intense stare. After

everything between us, hearing a compliment from him felt like when we had first met. I could still feel

his eyes on me when I looked away.

A loud string of incomprehensible words stung from the walkie-talkie, interrupting us. Mrs. Riley

seemed to understand what it said, however, because she franticly responded before quickly turning

towards us.

"I have to go. You guys go on stage for rehearsal in five minutes." She power-walked away, heading

towards another disaster that she would have to fix.

When it was just him and I, the awkward silence hung in the air.

"Brielle, I-" I quickly cut him off.

"Please," I said, the hurt in my voice evident. "Not today." He nodded, seeming to understand that I

didn't need yet another problem added on to my plate right now.

The speaker in the auditorium called our names, signaling us to perform. I quickly made my way to the

stage, wanting more than anything to put distance between him and I.

We made our way onto the platform and assumed our starting pose. The stage was dark, except for a

single soft pink spotlight on us. We sat on the floor, his arms wrapped around me as our song, Helium

by Sia, began to play.

When I choreographed this, Christopher and I had just started dating. I could sense the influence that

this had on our dance, as all the moves were romantic in a way, bringing back memories of when we

were together.

For the next two minutes, I allowed myself to pretend that everything was alright. That him and I were

still together, and that the lovingness of the piece wasn't just make-believe anymore.

We leapt across the stage as he lifted me up, each of us wrapped into the choreography. When the

ending notes began, I turned towards him, preparing for our last move. Our foreheads pressed against

each other's, our noses barely touching.

As my eyes stared into his, I could see the raw emotion in his eyes. It was a mix of soft affection and Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

aching, a look that I recognized in myself, and I realized then how much this seemed to be hurting him

too. If he was using me this entire time, why was us breaking up affecting him like this?

Unless maybe he wasn't using me. Maybe, like Scott, he had made a mistake in the past, but a mistake

that he had changed from. Maybe Christopher wasn't a bad guy, but a guy that made a bad decision

and was sorry. Maybe he hadn't changed, and he is still the Christopher that I knew. Maybe he just

showed me that he had faults too, big ones, and that he made mistakes. But our mistakes don't define

us.

As we leaned in for the kiss, the last move of our routine, my head was spinning. This dance

resurfaced feelings for Christopher that I tried so hard to bury, and I felt lost. Somehow, all the anger

and hurt that I felt for him evaporated.

But it shouldn't have. No matter how he felt now, at one point his lone goal was to hurt me, and I

shouldn't forgive him for that.

But I knew that if I leaned in and kissed him, I would be his again. All the problems between us would

go away, and we could be the happy couple that we once were, this time with a better understanding of

each other. It would be so easy.

But I couldn't.

And at the last moment, when our lips were almost touching, I pulled away.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, running off the stage.

Because sometimes, the easiest thing is the hardest to do.