Pointe of Breaking (5 page)

The noise MUST DIE!

The piercing buzz of an alarm jolted me awake. I shot up and, flailing my hand in the direction of my nightstand, smacked at the snooze button. However the damn clock was MIA. Pushing my sleeping mask up, I squinted. My room was bright as hell!

Why were my curtains ripped down?

Shit. I couldn’t deal with sunlight right now. I had to stop that painful, unrelenting shrill! My head throbbed—worse than most hangover headaches. I rubbed my temple and
immediately
wished I hadn’t. A goose egg? A fucking goose egg! How the hell did that happen?

Oh damn it all to hell! I had an alarm to kill!

…which was on the floor, next to my broken lamp.
Broken
? I didn’t have the patience to deal with this right now! Tangled in my sheets, I slid off of my futon to silence the Godforsaken alarm. After smacking it stupid, I rolled onto my back and pulled my sleeping mask back over my eyes so I could concentrate on what had happened last night and not the blazing sun.

Taking a deep breath, I caught the faint scent of Leo’s cologne. Two thoughts simultaneous hit me:

Yes
! To be with Leo: have him looking at me with perfect chocolate brown eyes as he worked me between the sheets; to drag my nails down his muscular body like he was gift-wrapped to womankind; him pushing deep within me, forcing screams from my throat as he showed me the uncomplicated bliss of a one-night-stand.

And then a far more complicated:
No!
Please tell me that I hadn’t completely ruined my life by sleeping with one of Blake’s entourage! If a man—any man—had been in my room there was sure to be evidence since I hadn’t had a male visitor since…since well, Blake.

Pushing up my sleeping mask, I peeked under my sheets and hoped that I wasn’t stark naked. I’d never been so happy to see a damn leotard in my life. Even so, I needed to shower and scrub his scent off of every single inch of my body.

I slowly stood up, bracing myself against my futon. The corner slipped out from under my hand. Nothing supported it. It was off its frame. My dresser drawers were pulled out. My underwear was sprayed everywhere. My ballet awards were thrown about. An old picture frame with Blake and I stuck into the wall.

I didn’t bother freeing it from the sheetrock.

Instead I stumbled into my bathroom, turned the light on, looked at the mirror, and turned the light off. I didn’t need
her
reflection staring back at me. My sister’s presences haunted me through the mirror’s reflection.

Besides, peeing was something I could do without lights. Before I sat down, I caught sight of something sparkling in the bottom of the toilet. The dim light was just enough to make it glisten. My gut knotted. It was the engagement ring Blake had given me. After fishing it out with the toilet plunger, I rinsed it off and put it alongside the rest of my costume jewelry in the medicine cabinet.

After scrubbing the vile taste in my mouth with a toothbrush, complete pieces of last night surfaced. I’d rather they’d stay buried.

I swallowed what felt like an entire bottle of Tylenol. After self-medicating, I had just thrown on a T-shirt and shorts when I heard a knock at my door. I hesitated to open it. What if it was Blake…or the guy from the bar? A smile spread across my face after the last thought.

Fresh and rejuvenated, Ivan let himself into my studio apartment bearing gifts of coffee. He gave me a once over. “That explains a lot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“We’ll get to your…drunken stupor soon enough.”

Tucked under his arm were a couple of newspapers. We sat down at my rummage-sale table. The corners were chipped and not all the chairs matched, but it was just fine for me. Taking a sip of his coffee, he slid the newspapers over to me.

One was a paper that I dreamed of getting into since I was a little girl: the infamous
New York Times.
The other was
Rotten Apples
, a tabloid notorious for capturing political and movie-star scandals of New Yorker natives.

“Read the
Times
first,” Ivan suggested and took a drink of his coffee.

The
Times
spilt quite a bit of ink showcasing our
Pas de Deux
. A floor-level image of Ivan and I was taken at the climax of the Aerosmith song when I was at the highest point of a catch. My ripped costume, smudged lipstick and fishnet stockings were the highlight of the evening’s performance. NYC was calling
the
Walk This Way
arrangement
a must-see.

However, the caption wasn’t so exhilarating.

It has been my privilege to work with exceptional primas that performed tonight, said the Master ballet Miss Higgins. However, sheer talent does not drive the Joffrey Ballet Company. Our danseurs are committed to the highest level of dedication. It is unfortunate but those who cannot demonstrate this are cut.

“The show’s sold out for the next month,” Ivan exclaimed. “People can’t stop talking about you!”

I didn’t care if the shows were sold out after our performance. Ms. Higgins quote was much more damming. Since I was on probation, I couldn’t slip up once…which made the
Rotten Apples
paper so poignant.

Inside the tabloid was another image of Ivan and I; he in mid-lunge and me standing on his hamstring while touching my pointe shoe to the back of my head. It was the most complex movement we’d practice. I had to admit it was impressive imagery, especially since the picture captured my facial expression clearly. Even I was taken aback with the harshness of my stare. Rage, lust, hunger, rebellious, and despondent feelings were exemplified in the movement.

My cheeks began to burn, but my embarrassment was due to the
other
image in the
Rotten Apple
. Draped over a muscular man, was a passed-out ballerina. Me. It wasn’t even so much that he was carrying me over his shoulder that bothered me. It was that my leotard-covered butt, framed by my tutu, was a huge focal point of the photo.

I buried my head in my hands, forgetting all about the bump on my head. I winced. The missing pieces of last night were making more sense. If I hadn’t gotten so belligerent and tripped over Leo’s leg, my mortification would have stayed private. Below the image was a picture of the reporter that questioned me at Shooters.

Oh God! What would the board of directors at Joffrey think?

How could I have been so careless? I thought having sex with a married man was bad enough!

“The picture may speak a thousand words, but you might be interested in the caption,” Ivan said sympathetically.

I split my fingers so that I wouldn’t have to remove my hands from my face. Mortification couldn’t even begin to describe the hell I was living. I was
ruined! …
So why was Ivan smirking?

He pressed his finger on the tabloid’s captions. “Just read it.”

Prima gives Aerosmith’s, Walk This Way
,
a new meaning to the Ballet World. Pictured here is Joffrey Ballet student, Adeline Parker draped over New York City socialite, Leonardo Richards. Richards is heir to Richards & Brown Advertising Fortune 500 Company.

“Isn’t that
the
Richards & Brown Advertising Company that donates a small fortune to Jo
ffrey?” Ivan asked.

“R&B is my biggest scholarship for school!” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Oh God, I’m going to lose my funding! I’m going to get kicked out of school! What am I going to do? How am I going to make ends meet?”

“Stop jumping to conclusions. Higgins has a stick up her ass and the board of directors would be fools to let you go after
selling out
after
our
arrangement.” Ivan peeled my hands off of my face. “You were on fire, last night, Addy girl.”

Just
then, my mother’s muffled ringtone echoed from my kitchen. Ivan let go of my hands so I could answer to the two people who’d given up everything for me, and I repaid them by flushing my future down the toilet. I found my phone in the fridge, next to a half a gallon of milk. The battery was close to being dead, but there was still enough juice in it for the caller-id to light up. Surely she’d seen the article of her daughter ruining her ballet career. I silenced it.

“Like I said, the whole City is talking.” Ivan picked up the
Rotten Apple
to read it. “Care to share the details of your bubble-bath gone wrong?”

“You mean my
ex—
partner.”

Ivan set his cup down and looked at me—truly looked at me. The adoration in his gaze was unwarranted with last night’s outburst. He pointed to the
caption.
Prima gives Aerosmith’s, Walk This Way
,
a new meaning to the Ballet World.
“This isn’t a lie. I know an opportunity when I see it. We have a connection on stage that’s undeniable. Even if you weren’t my best friend, it’d be my worse career choice to break up our partnership now.”

“Oh, you don’t think that Higgins has enough reason to kick me out of school?” I yelled and then felt terrible. It wasn’t his fault I couldn’t keep my cool. I certainly ruined our careers. My stomach knotted up. I couldn’t stand to look at myself for what I’d done, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I wrecked Ivan’s career.

“You really think Joffrey is going to let you go? You’re their money-maker! And if they don’t, some company will snatch
us
up even before we finish school!”

My gut ached. It wasn’t just because of last night. I couldn’t bring Ivan down with me. I wouldn’t do that to him. I didn’t care what he said. He had to stay with them. The future was unknown, and I didn’t know what I would do if a ballet company wouldn’t offer me a contract.

“Listen, I know warm-ups aren’t until this afternoon, but I have to get my purse.”

I needed an excuse to talk to Ms. Higgins alone. I didn’t want to get kicked out of Joffrey’s in front of my peers, and I suspected that my expulsion was exactly what was going to happen.

Tossing the paper down, he walked up
to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and cocked his head to the side to the point that I couldn’t shield my face from him.

“Of course I’ll go with you, Addy Girl! But I’m not going to let you out of your apartment looking like you do. There is a good chance that some of the
Rotten Apple’s
friends will be seeking a follow-up shot. Let’s start with a shower, shall we?”

A shower did sound like a good idea. “
We
won’t be doing anything, mister.”

He laughed. Suddenly, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. Even so, I refused to drape over his shoulder. Instead, I stood perfectly straight, penciled in his grasp.

“I thought you liked being carried like this,” Ivan chuckled, bringing me to my bathroom.

I good-heartedly slapped at him. He was doing a good job of making me feel
a little
better about what went down last night. He set me down in the shower. For half a second, I actually thought he might try to join me. I pulled the curtain shut and undressed.

“So, care to tell me what really happened?” Ivan asked after I tossed my clothes over the curtain rod and started the shower.

Just thinking about last night made my heart pound so hard my ribs were in jeopardy of breaking. It made my gut just churn. Mostly, I wanted to find a hole in which to bury my head. “I sort of…”

“Yes?” I swear I
heard
Ivan smirking.

“I sort of got the taste of Blake out of my mouth,” I confessed. “I got a little motion sick and…barfed on Leo after he dropped me off.”

Ivan was a good enough sport to attempt to hold back a laugh.
Attempt
.

“I was so mortified that I ran up to my studio apartment with his helmet in tow…You don’t think he would want it back, do you? I didn’t puke in it, but still. I guess it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t like he was stopping to ask for my number.”

Ivan grinned. “If he wants it, he’ll find you.”

“Leo! Are you going to answer that damn thing?” A voice bellowed from the other side of my door. I instantly recognized it as my fraternity brother, Chase. I stuffed my head beneath my pillow. “No…leave me alone. I’m still sleeping.”

“You’re going to want to answer it, dude,” he stated ominously.

“Why?” I mumbled.

“Actually, you’re going to want to talk to me first. Open up.”

I hauled myself off my bed and adjusted my junk, which was annoyingly restrained in my black boxer briefs. I opened the door and propped my hand on the frame, eyeing Chase hard.

“This better be good.”

Chase’s gaze dropped to my raging boner. “Dude! Down boy! It’s not that good!”

“You wake me up, this is what you get.” I lazily glanced down at my morning wood. Damn it, living in the fraternity house was really fucking annoying sometimes.

“I gotta show you these.” He shoved past me and strode into my room, dropping his skateboard noisily on the scuffed, wooden floor.

He turned and leaned back on my wooden desk and fluffed his wavy blond hair out of his eyes, like he was preparing for something big. His appearance always made me smile because you could take the beach bum out of Florida, but you couldn’t take the Florida out of the beach bum. He was the epitome of a laid back surfer in his cargo shorts and neon pink T-shirt. New York City didn’t change that one bit. His year round tan and sun bleached shaggy hair was so incredibly different than the other brothers in my fraternity. It was probably why I befriended him my first year at Columbia. He was one of the only brothers that didn’t have an arrogant stick up their ass.

He held out three different newspapers at me. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I caught a glimpse of a frilly tutu draped over a dude’s shoulder.

No fucking way!

In three strides, I had grabbed the papers out of Chase’s hands and spread them across my tan duvet. I dropped to my knees, and my eyes couldn’t move fast enough to take in the horror that was before me.

New York City socialite, Leonardo Richards sweeps Joffrey ballet apprentice, Adeline Parker off her feet.

After one of the most moving performances in Joffrey history, Adeline Parker celebrates a bit too much.

Sole heir to the Richards & Brown Fortune 500, Douglas and Evelyn Richards refused to comment on their son’s new relationship status.

All of the papers before me were plastered with various photos of Adeline and her partner dancing or some really
lovely
shots of me carrying her over my shoulder. There was even one of me using her pointe shoes as a prop as I spoke to her on the steps. Fuck my life. This was bad. This was really bad. I was usually pretty good about noticing paparazzi, but apparently having her tutued ass draped over my shoulder last night made me lose all common sense.

My phone rang, snapping me out of my internal horror. I stood up and snatched it off my bedside table noticing I had thirteen missed calls…all from my mother, my father, and Sasha.

“Dude—” Chase started.

“Don’t.” I pointed at him and pinched the bridge of my nose. Fuck, she did not deserve this mess.

“You gonna tell me about the chick?” he asked. “You know I recognized her name instantly right? I can’t be the only one.”

I clenched my jaw in frustration. I was not prepared to deal with everyone else’s noses in my business right now. Yes I knew this was Blake’s ex fiancé, and yes I knew that complicated matters but fuck! I hadn’t even seen the girl again to know yet if what I felt last night was a fluke or if it was real.

“She’s nobody,” I started but then silenced myself. Chase was my best friend at the House, and I knew he’d see right through me. There was an unspoken bro-code that transcended the fraternity that we reserved only for each other, so I knew I could trust him.

“I can’t explain it man. I saw her at the ballet last night and shit, something just clicked.” I sat down on the edge of my bed, hunched over and rolling my hands together nervously.

“This is the ballet you went to with Sasha?” he asked, skeptically eyeing me.

“I know, I know. But you know Sasha and I aren’t like that anymore. Anyways…I don’t know. As corny as it sounds, I saw her dance…and…it moved me.” Fuck this was embarrassing. I couldn’t even look at him right now.

“Like your dick stood up and saluted, you mean? She’s hot as hell to be sure,” he said, balancing on his skateboard.

“It’s not just that.” I snapped my head up and sternly eyed him. “I saw her at the bar afterwards, and we talked. We didn’t say much…but I don’t know man, I’m into her.”

“You know how fucked up this is going to get right?” His blue eyes pierced me with a look that couldn’t be said in words.

“No more fucked up than the way our night ended.”

He cocked his head curiously.

I sighed and haphazardly ruffled my hair. “She kind of…yacked down my back.”

“Is that like…code for something really sexy?” Chase grinned excitedly.

“No. No, Chase, it’s not.”

His excited expression morphed into pure disgust as he let the words sink in properly this time. He shook his head disappointedly. “I don’t understand you, Richards.”

I’m not sure even I understood me right now. I tried to go after Adeline to make sure she was okay, but she slammed the door to her building before I could catch up. I didn’t know which apartment number was hers, and it was way too late to just buzz random people’s places. I ended up ditching my ruined suit jacket in a nearby dumpster and drove my pathetic ass back to my frat house.

You’d think getting puked on would put me right off of her. But she was all I thought about all damn night. And she was who I woke up thinking about. Suddenly, all I could think about was how drunk she was and how she could have passed out in the hallway.

Fuck, I should have started buzzing doors.

Without hesitation, I hauled myself up off my bed and threw on a clean T-shirt and a pair of my favorite tattered jeans.

“Where are you going?” Chase asked.

“I gotta check on her. Make sure she actually made it inside her apartment last night. Plus, she still has my helmet.” I smirked.

Chase shook his head as I shoved my feet into my brown combat boots and wrenched open the door to my room. Several Gamma Phi brothers stood in the hallway, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. I saw a couple of them stash newspapers behind them and shot them all an annoyed glare. Damn fraternity brothers could be worse than girls when it came to gossip. I moved past them and down the steps of our four-story Victorian house.

“Where are you going?” a voice asked from the dining area as I jogged by.

“I got things to do,” I hollered over my shoulder, not bothering to look at our House president, Micah Fitzgibbons.

“Things or a ballerina?” he sneered.

This stopped me dead in my tracks. I slowly turned from the front door to eyeball him. “It’s not your business,” I stated, casing him foot to head.

Micah strolled toward me until we were face to face. He stood a good four inches shorter than me, but the prick acted like he was as tall as the Statue of Liberty. He was stocky with buzzed dirty blond hair and always had a pinched expression to his face, like he’d just sucked on a lemon.

“If it involves a brother of mine, it’s definitely my business,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

I bit my lip hard and squinted at him. “I’ll be back,” I ground out and turned to leave. I didn’t have time for this shit.

“You better be,” he threatened.

I stopped again. In a split second, I towered over Micah, and his face morphed from anger to amusement. That only pissed me off more.

“Make no mistake Micah. You might be the house president, but only because I let you be.”

“Please. You’re not the only legacy here, Leo,” he scoffed.

“Nope. I’m not. But I’m the only Richards. And whether you like it or not…that means something in your twisted and pathetic world.” I leaned into him and watched with satisfaction as he visibly shrank beneath my glower.

“It’s your world too, Leo,” Micah replied, refusing to break eye contact with me.

I glanced down at his determined expression. “So it is.” I turned on my heel and strode out, nudging past a nervous-looking Chase on the porch. I could talk to Chase later. Right now, I had to see a girl about a helmet.