A Love as Hard as This

Chapter 39

Author's Note:
Hi all! I want to do a little contest (purely because I think it'll be fun)! I know that ya'll want to know this secret so much, so I'm giving 3 of you a chance for a clue. The first three people who comment on this chapter saying, "hint" will get a hint to this story (unless you've already guessed right, in which case, you won't get a hint, sorry.)
Otherwise, keep guessing and scouring my chapters for hints—I leave a lot I promise!

Richelle's Perspective:

My locker opened the next morning to reveal flowers. My initial reaction was that it was Noah, but I quickly remembered that he knew what my favorite flowers were—lilies and roses—so he wouldn't have gotten me daffodils. So I looked at the tag.

"Richelle, I hope you're feeling better," it read. "Maybe we could hang out sometime, I'd really like to get to know you. Let me know. Love, Elliot."

I grimaced. Didn't he know that I already had a boyfriend? He probably just thought that he could prove he was better than Noah. I picked the flowers out of my locker, not caring if I wilted or damaged them, and threw them in the trash on my way out of the room.

"Good try," I mumbled to no one in particular. "But it's never going to work."

——————

"Hey, Lola!" I said in a friendly manor, walking towards my friend in Neutral Grounds. "How're you?"

"Richelle, I know about your hip," she said bluntly as I sat down beside her.

My heart skipped a beat and I nearly toppled off of my chair. "What?"

"Noah—he, he told me about your hip. And you need to see your doctor." she tried to explain.

My vision was clouded in red. Why would Noah tell her? I soon was able to calm myself down and speak calmly, denying it. "No, no, nothing's wrong with my hip."

"Richelle, I know you're lying."

Somehow her kind expression and gentle personality persuaded me to open up to her. I told her everything about... my hip. After every new piece of information, I saw her eyes light up with questions, but she stayed silent. "So, it's been hurting and I don't know what to do about it." I finished.

"You need to go to the doctor." Lola rested her hand on my arm and rubbed it tenderly, drawing out the nerves that were building up inside me.

"No, I don't. It'll probably be fine, I'm probably just working myself up over nothing." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince Lola or myself. "Anyway, I've got to go. Noah wants to do some sort of duet and I promised I'd meet him in Studio A."

"Okay," she said somberly, obviously not satisfied with the fact that I was going to dance on my hip again. "If you need to talk, I'm here."

I nodded and quickly got up, leaving her staring at my back when I left. I felt bad for lying to her, and purposely hurting myself by dancing more, but it wasn't like I was going to stop. I'd just gotten the ballet solo, and there was no way I was letting anyone else take my spot.

"Hey, Riche." Noah said as I came in, sprinting over to him. "How's your hip?"

"Doing better?" I responded hesitantly.

"You're not, are you?"

I should've known that he'd see right through me. "Yeah. It still hurts." Reluctant to answer, I gave him the best comment I could.

"You've got to go to the doctors!" He raised his voice, which was unnerving as Noah never yelled. Unless he was really, really mad... or worried.

"No I don't!" I knew I was being stubborn, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to go to the doctor unless I was dragged to the hospital. Not wanting to deal with this again, I rushed out of the room.

——————

Noah's Perspective:

"Noah, can I see you in my office for a minute?" Emily asked me as soon as Richelle left. I obliged, following her gestures into her office. "I need you to organize some paperwork."

"Paperwork?" I repeated, hoping she was kidding.

"Yes, paperwork. You're the Dance Captain. This is what Dance Captains need to do." It was obvious that I wasn't her first choice as Dance Captain—to be fair, I wasn't my first choice either. Richelle would've been happy to do this and sat down with a pen, not resting until it was done. My opinions were pretty different.

I viewed paperwork as a boring, wasteful use of my time, very unlike my girlfriend. "Come on, Noah," Emily reminded me. "We have to get this done before the deadline."

I groaned and set to work on it, making no effort to hide my distaste. "So I just put their names and ages?" I asked.

"Yes." Then she added, "and make sure it's abundantly clear that not one dancer has an injury. I don't want to be disqualified or anything." She chuckled, as if her words meant nothing, but to me, they meant everything.

Richelle had an injury, and she was planning to dance on it. I had to stop it before something detrimental happened to her, or the entire team.

Once I was finished, I ran to the locker room and put Richelle's code into her lock. Her birthday. I had told her to change it multiple times; you'd think that for someone with a secret they were trying to hide, they'd have a better password to protect their things.

I found what I was looking for in seconds—she was an extremely organized person. Her pointe shoes. Purple, satin. I knew for a fact that she'd spent hours picking them out, having the perfect pair of pointe shoes was very important to her. That's why what I was about to do was so hard, but she'd given me no choice. I had to make sure she didn't put the team, or worse, herself, in jeopardy.

I snapped the shank, making sure that there was no way she could dance on it.

Author's Note:
Sorry this is so short, the chapters will get longer soon!