ℒ𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒪𝓃 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸ℯ ℱ𝓁ℴℴ𝓇 [𝟏]

𝟐.𝟏𝟑.𝟓- 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

Authors Note!

Hey, y'all!
This chapter was really fun to right. It's definitely not my favorite one but it's still interesting. I hope you enjoy it! Also I love reading your comments so feel free to say whatever is on your mind throughout the chapter

- Emms

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˚✧.⋅₊˚ ‧ 🩰⋅୨୧ ⋅🦢  ‧₊˚ ⋅.✧˚

["Dance To Express, Not Impress"]

Thursday morning, the classroom was filled with the usual chatter, pencils scratching against paper, and the low hum of the teacher's voice explaining the next set of math problems.

But Emily barely noticed any of it. Her eyes were heavy, her head propped up on her hand, and despite her best efforts, she was losing the battle against sleep. The week had been packed with dance rehearsals, and her body still ached, particularly her feet, sore from hours of wearing pointe shoes. The blisters and cuts on her toes throbbed beneath her ballet flats, and exhaustion pulled her deeper into the fog of sleep.

Ever since she did her surprise pointe solo in New York Abby had been having her do more pointe. She had already learned her next solo for competition, which wouldn't be for two months thankfully. She had time to perfect this solo. Last night she had worked on it for hours.

Emily's eyes fluttered shut as the teacher's voice faded into the background. Her body slumped slightly forward, her mind slipping into the comfort of sleep. The weight of everything— dance, school, the pressure to be perfect— fell away for just a moment.

"Emily!" the sharp call of her name startled her awake. Her head jerked up, eyes wide with sudden awareness. Mrs Thompson, her teacher, was standing at the front of the room, arms crossed, her gaze fixed sternly on Emily.

"Could you please stay awake during class?" Mrs Thompson asked, her voice firm but not unkind. "This is the second time this week."

Emily rubbed her eyes, still feeling groggy, "I'm sorry," she mumbled, sitting up straighter and trying to look more alert.

Mrs Thompson sighed and walked over to Emily's desk, "Go down to the office. We need to talk to your mom about this. I can't have you sleeping through class."

Emily's heart sank. She didn't want to go to the office, didn't want her mom called again. She hated that Katie would find out about this— another thing she wasn't doing right. She gathered her things slowly, feeling her classmates' eyes on her, and stood up.

Her feet screamed with pain as she walked out of the classroom and down the long hallway toward the office. Every step was agony. Her toes were blistered and raw from spending hours on pointe the day before. She loved ballet— she really did— but pointe shoes were a different story. She hardly ever wore them, and now her feet were paying the price. The tight, unforgiving shoes had left her toes cut, swollen, and aching. Each step sent a sharp reminder of the previous day's rehearsal.

When Emily finally reached the office, she approached the receptionist's desk. The woman glanced up from her computer, her expression softening when she saw Emily.

"Hi, sweetie," the secretary said kindly. "Why were you sent down?"

Emily shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to admit the real reason, "I, uh...fell asleep in class."

The secretary gave her a sympathetic look before picking up the phone, "Alright, let's give your mom a call."

Emily sat down on one of the hard plastic chairs, her feet throbbing as she crossed her ankles. She stared at the tiled floor, trying to think of what she would say to her mom. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with. She was tired— so, so tired— and she knew Katie wouldn't be happy. Katie had been stretched thin with everything lately, juggling the new baby, dance schedules, and their complicated family life. Emily hated the thought of adding to that stress.