Lacy:
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My breath fogged out in front of me as I exhaled, wrapping the short silk robe around me tighter. I was so used to going out on the balcony every day in just that small robe as a cover-up, it's all I needed it was usually warm enough. And the small tank top and pajama shorts under it weren't helping my warmth either.
I inhaled once more, feeling cold air fill my lungs with a burn. I climbed inside the window and shut it, shivering and wrapping my arms around myself and grabbing the blanket off the end of my bed and wrapping myself in it.
"Can you pick out my outfit? It's too cold and I don't have anything to wear," I sulked, sitting on my bed.
"It's getting colder," Val said excitedly.
"And that's good because why?"
"Because winter, I love winter," she said, entering my closet.
"Winter's bleak," I said in disgust, "I only like it because that's when all the good performances are on, all the good roles," I said.
"How long have you done The Nutcracker?" Val asked, the sound of metal hangers scrapping on the rail.
"Since I was eleven, each year. So far I've been the doll, Clara, one of the rats, a party guest, the flowers, the Arab dancers, and Mother Ginger," I said.
"You never played The Sugar Plum Fairy?" Val asked.
"No, she's been my goal role since I started pointe, before that even," I said, getting up and grabbing a mug from the small cabinet we had set up with coffee supplies.
"What other roles have you had?"
"I was the black swan, Cinderella, Belle, and Mrs. Potts," I said, "I want to be Plumette though," I said.
"You'd suit her," Val smirked, throwing things onto my bed.
I poured coffee into the small mug, opened the mini fridge, and poured in the vanilla oat milk creamer and a tablespoon of sugar, mixing it before letting the hot liquid slide down my throat.
"Why do you say that?" I laughed.
"Because you just do, you're elegant and classy, you were made for France, but you're kind of a tease," Val looked at me before sitting at her desk.
"How?" I laughed at her.
"Look at you," she chuckled wryly.
I still failed to understand what she meant.
I grabbed the baggy jeans that Val picked out for me and slid them on, lifting the white floral long-sleeved shirt that was outlined with lace and a small bow over my head.
"You have so many baggy Zara jeans, it's unfunny," Val said seriously.
"They're comfortable and cute," I shrugged.
I sat at my desk and tried to curl my eyelashes.
"You and Riley?" she said.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"She's good? You're happy, she's treating you good?" she asked.
"Shouldn't you know?" I snickered.
"We didn't date," Val muttered.
I blinked down on the curve of the mascara brush, black clumps of ink holding my eyelashes together.
"Are you okay with me bringing her over here, with me dating her?" I asked.
"No, no, no, it's your dorm too, it's your life, if you want to date her then date her. I've moved on from her," Val said.
"When you two were in the bathrooms together less than a month ago you didn't seem over her," I murmured.
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Behind The Glass Door
RomanceWhen Lacy Clarke goes to Mouvementville, France to do pointe ballet professionally, she discovers the liking she has for Riley Parker, a hip-hopper. Riley seems to be off-limits to Lacy since her roommate (and one of her best friends, Valentina) has...