Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
It was one thing to avoid calling him. But now he is right in front of me, probably carrying a ton of them.
I sit on the sand in front of the fire and accept an uncapped bottle of beer from Thalia with no intention of drinking it. Painkillers aside, I never consume alcohol unless I open it myself.
“I heard you go to Juilliard.” One girl touches my elbow. She looks completely drunk, and something protective rises in me. Old Bailey would get her a cab home. “That was legit my dream. You must be so talented.”
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“She’s amazing!” A muscle twitches under Thalia’s eye. “I’ve had the honor of working out with her. Girl is fire.”
Fire? No. Fired? Maybe, if someone was dumb enough to give me a dancing job.
I know I sucked the time we trained together, but it’s nice of her to try to pump me up. Most of the girls I’ve been around are way too competitive.
“I go to Las Juntas.” The other girl nods. “But I hang out with Thalia, hoping Lev would show up and bring his best friend, Grim, along so I can make a move.”
Grim Kwon. I remember him. A dreamboat who speaks fluent sarcasm.
“I’m sure he’ll turn up one day,” I say.
The girl tilts her head to Thalia. “Even Lev doesn’t show up for this girl, so I’m not holding my breath.” Ouch. The girl hiccups, then proceeds to keel over and vomit between us. I nudge aside just in time, then put a hand on her back. “I’m calling you an Uber, dude. Time to go home.”
“Can’t afford one.”
“My treat.” I know she’s going to ruin my perfect five-star score, but I can’t chance anything happening to her.
Taking the girl up to the promenade and seeing her enter the cab of the Uber takes about ten minutes, and then I’m back by Thalia’s side.
Thalia puts her hand on Sydney’s shoulder and yawns. “Ugh. I have a history test to study for. I’ll need to pull an all-nighter.”
“Those were the best for me,” I squeak out lamely.
I loved studying through the night. There was something romantic and wholesome about it. If I weren’t destined to be a ballerina, I would have loved to study history or art. Somewhere cool and cozy in New England. Oversized sweaters and long nights at the library.
There were so many alternate universes I’ve never even entertained because of ballet. Which is why I need to fight for what I’ve already achieved even harder.
Thalia and Sydney both look at me like I spurted two more heads and a tail.
Thalia turns to a doped-looking Sydney. “Got any Adderall?”
He shoves a hand into his front pocket and tugs out bags with dozens of pills. My eyes widen. Now I’m sure this is a trap—it’s not very subtle, either.
Thalia bringing me here. Surrounding me with people so much younger than me. My mom would call them riffraff. And frankly, Old Bailey wouldn’t hang out with them either.
I don’t know if she is doing this to hurt me or as a scheme with Lev to show me that I really am an addict—I mean, am I an addict?—but it doesn’t matter anyway because I can’t stop myself.
As it turns out, something else might be stopping me—namely, capitalism.
“Get me three more and put it on my bill, okay?” Thalia pops an Adderall into her mouth and washes it down with beer. Lev’s love interest might be prettier than me, but she sure is depriving some village of its idiot.
“Mixing alcohol and Adderall is a no-no.” I pry the beer from between her fingers, tossing it into a nearby trash can.
“Wow, you really are a Goody Two-Shoes.” Thalia laughs and clutches my shoulders. “Lighten up, Bailey.”
“Anything I can get you?” Sydney glances my way, his corn-on-the-cob yellow smile on full display.
“Don’t have my wallet on me,” I answer shortly, trembling a little. From the cold, probably.
Thalia rolls her eyes. “I got you, boo. You can pay me back next time I come for a workout. Which should be soon, right? You said you were still gunning for Juilliard?”
“I…I don’t want anything. I’m okay.” I gulp. I don’t want to confirm the gossip about me that I’m a drug addict. I’m not.
Thalia stares at me for a few seconds, then grins. “No, you’re not. Come on. Let me help the pain stop.”
My voice is barely a whisper: “Okay.”
“What can I get ya?” Sydney scoots closer.
“Vicodin,” I hear myself say. “And…and Xanax if you have it.”
As soon as he slides the pills into my open palm, I shove one of each down my throat and swallow them dry. The rest I shove into my sneakers.
“That’s it, honey.” Thalia pats my back, grinning from ear to ear, and now I know for a fact that Daria was right about everything. This girl is mean. “All better now, huh?”