Ballet of Hearts

III

The bell signaling the end of fourth period penetrated the halls, and I carefully navigated my way out of the classroom. As I made my way into the cafeteria, I felt a cascade of eyes following my every step. The atmosphere buzzed with the silent hum of curiosity, and among the observers, Nikolas stood out like a charismatic figurehead.

Entering the bustling cafeteria, I couldn't escape the pull of his gaze. He sat confidently with the "popular group" made up of catty girls and more typical bad boys, the magnetic center of his own high school universe. His eyes met mine and for a moment, the noises of the cafeteria faded away, leaving only the silent exchange between us. Nikolas's expression held a blend of admiration, but the scrutiny from his companions carried a touch of judgment. Whenever he looks at me, a flutter of delicate butterflies takes residence in my stomach, dancing to a whimsical melody that leaves me feeling delightfully giddy.

Nikolas, the unspoken monarch of this school, effortlessly commanded attention. It felt as if the students around him moved like loyal subjects, attuned to his unspoken cues. I could see this, feeling his influence.

Through the crowds, Nelli's friendly wave beckoned me to a table where three other girls sat. Sam, Ines, and Adaline all greeted me warmly, their smiles forming a contrast to the complexities observed around Nikolas. As we settled into conversation, the focus shifted back to Nikolas when his gaze lingered on me. Sam smirked, leaning in to whisper, "Looks like you've got the 'bad boy' himself interested. Good luck with that new girl."

Ines chuckled, "Just a piece of advice though, he's not all sunshine and rainbows. Nikolas has got a bit of a reputation."

Adaline nodded in agreement, "Yeah, he can be mean, plays with hearts like they're toys, and rumor has it that he's got a bit of a drinking issue at parties. So, watch yourself."

I took their words with a mix of fascination and caution. A drinking issue? The allure of Nikolas, combined with the warnings of my new friends, added to my new school.

Nelli, eager to shift the focus, intervened with a lighthearted tone, "Okay, enough about Nikolas. Let's welcome Odette to our little lunch club. We're the unofficial welcoming committee. Sam, Ines, Adaline, meet Odette."

Our group transitioned into sharing stories, laughter, and the camaraderie that marked the beginnings of genuine friendships. At this moment, the lunch table became a sanctuary from the intense nuances surrounding Nikolas.

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As I got through the remainder of my school day, thankfully sharing some classes with Sam, Ines, and Adaline, each period went smoothly, and I was left with a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day when it was time to go home. When the final bell rang, I walked to the parking lot, anticipation building for the comfort of my own space.

Slipping into my car, a sense of tranquility washed over me. The wonderful scent of lavender in my car enveloped me, a cocoon of familiarity. As I drove through the streets, I listened to Lana Del Rey, my beloved. I found solace In Lana Del Rey's artistry, an emotional refuge that allowed me to explore the nuances of my feelings. I was even in her top one percent of listeners on Spotify Wrapped. How honored I was to be in that place. I literally cannot live without her.

Home, a grand abode nestled in the embrace of lush greenery. The house, a testament to my mother's success post-divorce, stood as a haven where I found solace with just my mom and me. Even though I had just recently moved into this house, it took me away from the harsh memories of my older brother, Dmitri's death, and my father's drunken abuse in the aftermath. That is the reason why we moved to a new city. Away from my used-to-be, perfect, forever home. With my perfect and loving family. A tear rolled down my cheek as I wiped it away, getting out of my car and walking up to the door.

Entering through the front door, I was greeted by the elegant interior, a reflection of my mother's fine taste. In the living room, my mother awaited, putting down her book. We exchanged smiles.

"How was your first day, dear?" Mother inquired, a smile gracing her features.

I sank into the plush couch, a sense of relief washing over me. "It was good, mom. You know, the usual new-kid jitters, but I think I'll find my way around."

My mother's eyes, filled with maternal warmth, searched my face for any type of distress. "And the classes? Are they challenging enough for my brilliant ballerina?"

I laughed, "They're manageable. But, you know Mom, it's more than just the classes. High school has this... rhythm, a dance of its own."

As I shared the highlights of my day, I carefully omitted the details involving Nikolas. My mother, a beacon of support, remained blissfully unaware of the alluring "bad boy" who had sparked a clandestine dance within my heart.

I checked the time on my phone. "It's four now, I should go get ready for ballet," I said to my mom. I had ballet every day except for Sunday from five to six-thirty in the afternoon.

I recently joined a new studio due to my move. It was a highly-ranked, Russian ballet establishment in the town, and I quickly caught up to what they were practicing in class. Being passionate helped a lot with putting in the hard work and dedication. We were practicing for an upcoming showcase for the studio, and I have been excitedly practicing and putting my all into the dances, even though the teacher is strict. You know, Russian ballet and all.

As I got ready, the thought of Nikolas lingered in my mind. I knew my mother's concerns about relationships, especially the ones involving unpredictable, improper men. Especially if he has a drinking issue.

After getting ready I got in my car, listened to Lana, and headed to the studio, where I was able to express myself and release emotion through dance.

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