From Eden

nineteen

I rose from the table, dropping Chloe's hand and swallowing hard. I hoped my face didn't convey too much of what I was feeling, but just the thumping of my heart gave away that it was most likely flushed red. The woman in the wheelchair in front of me glared at me with daggers in her eyes, and I figured that she could smell my fear from miles away. Nothing, it seemed, would be able to prepare me for the wrath of Abby.

I followed her to her office, where I had only sat once before, in the beginning of the summer season. Back then, I was fried out of my mind and way more peaceful than I was now; all I could do to calm myself down was focus on my breathing.

"Sit," Abby commanded, rolling to the other side of the desk. She folded her hands on top of the wooden surface, and took a deep, shuddering breath, which I could only label as enraged. I felt my leg begin to shake with growing anxiety. "Are you using drugs in my studio?"

"No," I shook my head immediately, my voice cracking. "Not once." It was true, I had always been smoking weed in the parking lot. On the property, yes, in the studio, no. But then, she asked a follow up question that left me speechless.

"Are you on drugs in my studio?"

I gaped, knowing my demeanor definitely gave me away before I could say anything to defend myself. Abby leaned back in her chair with an exasperated sigh, and the ghost of a smile on her red lips, like she was happy she caught me doing something bad. I felt anger rising in my belly along with the fear. "What happened?" I asked her, avoiding answering the question directly. "Why are you asking me these things?"

"Because a young man, Ty Longman, just came into my office with his mother and she told me her teacher was on drugs!" Abby yelled, throwing up her hands. "They said it was you, Paige. What am I supposed to think? They're saying that for fun?"

"He was mad at me for some reason," I said, finding the courage to defend myself. That excuse was weak; why would a fifteen year old be mad at me? I added, "I don't know why he said that, but he said it in front of everyone. I'm not on drugs."

"Were you ever on drugs?" She asked, her eyes wide and crazy.

Once again, I was speechless. I opened my mouth to talk, but I didn't know what to say. If I told her the truth, I would most likely be fired, and she might spread something about me being a junkie for press. However, what was I supposed to do in place of the truth? Lie? No one could lie to fucking Abby Lee Miller. They'd be killed.

"Yeah," I answered quietly, clutching my hands together for support. I felt my nails digging into my skin, but the pain was absent. "I smoked weed. But never in the studio, just before class."

"You're being terminated. Thank you, and—"

"Abby, please," I interrupted, my eyes widening. The other woman was surprised at my boldness, so she fell silent. "Please don't. I've been sober for two weeks now, and I won't go back. I need this job. Please...just as much as you need us here, I need this job."

"I have to let you go," She shook her head, her voice firm. "You're done. Nobody uses drugs at the Abby Lee Dance Company. Does anyone else do them with you? I can get the police involved easily and have them test everyone."

"No, nobody does them with me," I shook my head slightly, my voice weak and my heart palpitating in my chest. I couldn't lose this job. I hadn't even started looking for a new one! Something deep inside me suggested I would only relapse if I got fired. "Please don't call the police. Please."

"You need to leave, then." Abby popped a pen open and started writing down something on a slip of paper. "Call this number, it's Jojo. She'll help Chloe with the rest of the season before the mid summer recital."