wake. I could no longer trust Alex. That realisation tore me to the core, but I needed to protect myself now.
“Trice! You wanna come out with us? We’re gonna check out a film or something,” Robbie yelled up the stairs. Oh, fuck no. I would rather impale myself than be near that mole.
“Nah, sorry Rob. I have a bit of study to do. Have fun!” I called back with fake grace. There was no way that I was going near her. To watch her stroke Alex’s back while plotting her next attack against me? Not on my watch.
So it began. I was one month closer to the gala and hopefully one step closer to obtaining my dream. All I needed to do now was keep focused and keep my distance from Alex’s lies.
One month later
What did you do when one of your closest friends broke your heart? You avoided them. You ignored them. You pushed yourself to try to forget that they were ever a part of your life. While trying to forget them, though, your mind played tricks on you. It tried to remind you, through a montage of clips, like a movie, of the moments that you were happy around each other. Your memories seeped through the holes in your heart in a constant battle to see if you would stay strong or forgive. Memories were ruthless mistresses, out to maim, cut, and hurt you.
I spent my time mostly hanging out with my friends at their homes; if I wasn’t there, I was practicing my routine while my worries ran through my mind. I could understand why a guy wouldn’t care about my dancing. As much as it hurt to think back on all the times he’d asked me about it, I still got it. It was his relationship with her that I couldn’t get past. His betrayal came to the forefront; in my mind, I heard Alex and Stacey’s laughter from that day, and with my heart aching for release, it fuelled my perseverance to train. The pain was also my motivation to win a place at the academy, and I used it to take on a new drive. No longer did I doubt myself. Instead, I had become the merciless dancer, willing to strike down anything that stood in my way.
Over the next few weeks, I put a strong routine in place. During the day, I retraced my steps. At night, I dreamt about the routine. I’d chosen a song to use in which I could let myself go. As the month dragged on, I began to see less of my friends, fuelled by a tunnel vision so acute that my will to win was all I could see. I wanted the golden ticket to the academy. Every time I closed my eyes, my determination soared as I saw Stacey’s hate-filled eyes while she clutched onto Alex. Her words, “You’re ugly,” and, “You’re worthless,” mocked me. Failure was not an option. Every hateful glaze, every venom-filled word, made me pound into the floor with precision. I welcomed the pain, unleashed it into my movement, and used it to crush these demons. I knew that once I’d done that, and followed my future path out of this fucking narrow-minded town, I could be protected.
I began running more often during the week. No longer did I run on Sundays, and especially not with Alex. I increased the sessions to every second morning. Rising two hours before school started, I got dressed, laced up, and I went. The pounding of the pavement soothed me and since I have changed directions—I was now running in the opposite direction to my past trails with Alex - I felt liberated.
The first Sunday, I deliberately slept in. I could hear footsteps outside my window, but I hid under my covers. I ignored the text messages and slept away the time I usually spent with him.
When I’d started this new routine, the weeks seemed to fly by. It seemed all of a sudden we were just a week away from the gala, this Saturday. I deliberately told my family that it was just an performance, as I didn’t want them to attend; I didn’t want any distractions. My friends knew otherwise but they were sworn to secrecy.
Hiding behind my ‘everything was okay’
“Trice! You wanna come out with us? We’re gonna check out a film or something,” Robbie yelled up the stairs. Oh, fuck no. I would rather impale myself than be near that mole.
“Nah, sorry Rob. I have a bit of study to do. Have fun!” I called back with fake grace. There was no way that I was going near her. To watch her stroke Alex’s back while plotting her next attack against me? Not on my watch.
So it began. I was one month closer to the gala and hopefully one step closer to obtaining my dream. All I needed to do now was keep focused and keep my distance from Alex’s lies.
One month later
What did you do when one of your closest friends broke your heart? You avoided them. You ignored them. You pushed yourself to try to forget that they were ever a part of your life. While trying to forget them, though, your mind played tricks on you. It tried to remind you, through a montage of clips, like a movie, of the moments that you were happy around each other. Your memories seeped through the holes in your heart in a constant battle to see if you would stay strong or forgive. Memories were ruthless mistresses, out to maim, cut, and hurt you.
I spent my time mostly hanging out with my friends at their homes; if I wasn’t there, I was practicing my routine while my worries ran through my mind. I could understand why a guy wouldn’t care about my dancing. As much as it hurt to think back on all the times he’d asked me about it, I still got it. It was his relationship with her that I couldn’t get past. His betrayal came to the forefront; in my mind, I heard Alex and Stacey’s laughter from that day, and with my heart aching for release, it fuelled my perseverance to train. The pain was also my motivation to win a place at the academy, and I used it to take on a new drive. No longer did I doubt myself. Instead, I had become the merciless dancer, willing to strike down anything that stood in my way.
Over the next few weeks, I put a strong routine in place. During the day, I retraced my steps. At night, I dreamt about the routine. I’d chosen a song to use in which I could let myself go. As the month dragged on, I began to see less of my friends, fuelled by a tunnel vision so acute that my will to win was all I could see. I wanted the golden ticket to the academy. Every time I closed my eyes, my determination soared as I saw Stacey’s hate-filled eyes while she clutched onto Alex. Her words, “You’re ugly,” and, “You’re worthless,” mocked me. Failure was not an option. Every hateful glaze, every venom-filled word, made me pound into the floor with precision. I welcomed the pain, unleashed it into my movement, and used it to crush these demons. I knew that once I’d done that, and followed my future path out of this fucking narrow-minded town, I could be protected.
I began running more often during the week. No longer did I run on Sundays, and especially not with Alex. I increased the sessions to every second morning. Rising two hours before school started, I got dressed, laced up, and I went. The pounding of the pavement soothed me and since I have changed directions—I was now running in the opposite direction to my past trails with Alex - I felt liberated.
The first Sunday, I deliberately slept in. I could hear footsteps outside my window, but I hid under my covers. I ignored the text messages and slept away the time I usually spent with him.
When I’d started this new routine, the weeks seemed to fly by. It seemed all of a sudden we were just a week away from the gala, this Saturday. I deliberately told my family that it was just an performance, as I didn’t want them to attend; I didn’t want any distractions. My friends knew otherwise but they were sworn to secrecy.
Hiding behind my ‘everything was okay’
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