they made it clear that I didn’t fit in with their clique. I didn’t have a constant supply of new and stylish leotards that cost hundreds of dollars. I wore the same plain, economical ones until they wore out – a ballerina fashion faux pas. I was lucky to have Ryan as my best friend.
“What about me?” Ryan muttered under his breath after he was sure no one else was listening.
“I’m nothing without you,” I assured him. “You just made me look really good, that’s all.”
Ryan shook his head and went back to stretching, but the mood between us had soured. Ryan had worked so hard to prepare for this performance, and it was unfair for Miss White to compliment me and not him. Ryan and I were a team, and he deserved just as much recognition as I did.
Chapter 4
Maverik
I shifted in the uncomfortably small seat I forced myself into. The auditorium must have been built in the early 1900s, because these chairs hadn’t been designed to accommodate hockey players over six feet tall. I glanced at my phone to check the time.
Fuck.
We’ve been here for over an hour. How much longer was this shit going to last?
Watching a ballet would have been bad enough, but watching a random collection of performances by ballet students still in training?
Torture.
The only thing that made this remotely entertaining was the three bitchy middle-aged women in front of me. They definitely belonged on a reality show about psychotic dance moms - not that I’d ever watch it.
“Karen better wake up and realize that her daughter is never going to make it with that short neck and giant head,” the nasally one sniffed.
The other two tittered. “At least her kid still has time to lengthen out,” the one with blond helmet-hair laughed. “Did you see Jessica’s tiny little angel has sprouted tits and an ass?”
“Yeah,” the third one snickered. “Her career is over before it even started. I hope she has a plan B if she doesn’t want to end up as a stripper.”
“Well, Jessica probably should have been more careful about feeding her. I had a fit when I heard she suggested tacos for the end of year party. And she looked clueless when I told her that if the girls ate beef at all, it would have to be organic, grass-fed, and hormone-free.”
The other women gasped in horror. Were these bitches serious? They were talking about little girls, for fuck’s sake.
All three of them paused in their critique as the stage darkened, signaling that the current performance was over. I knew it was too much to hope for that this show was over completely, because the girl we were waiting to see still hadn’t made an appearance.
I glanced to my right to see that my dad was typing on his phone, but at least he kept it shadowed beneath his coat, so the light didn’t distract the rest of the audience. It was a very rare occasion that Richard Wilder would take a break from work. Meeting his fiancé’s long lost sister clearly didn’t make the cut.
Nina was staring at the stage with a blank look on her face. That didn’t surprise me. I noticed she had a pill-popping habit, and she’d probably taken some shit to make it through this.
I hadn’t seen it coming when my father proposed to the model – I thought Nina was just temporary insanity that my dad indulged because of a midlife crisis or something. I completely ignored her until the day my father decided she would become a part of our family. That was the day I knew she had to go.
My brother had dozed off as soon as they dimmed the lights, with his head leaning back and mouth partly open. King looked ridiculous like that – I was doing him a favor by waking him. I gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs, and he jerked awake.
“Asshole,” he muttered as he sat up straight.
“If I have to suffer through this, then so do you,” I shot back at him.
Music started up, and I reluctantly turned my attention back to the show. Two dancers, a male and female, had taken the stage.
“That’s the Russian girl,” helmet-hair murmured to her friends. “I’m surprised she’s doing another year here instead of getting an apprenticeship.”
The crowd gasped and burst into applause as the ballerina flew across the stage.
“Did you see her form in that Grand Jeté? I wish Rachael could get lift like that and still