Breaking The Rules | Complete

Chapter 40

I was going to blow chunks all over the parquet flooring.

The air in the studio was a mix of nerves, excitement, and an overwhelming amount of hairspray. Juliette, Elodie, and I had clustered together in one corner of the room, stretching out our legs and rolling our shoulders. Other dancers who were performing in the recital had staked out around the room. None of them appeared as nervous as I felt.

"Breathe, Celeste," Juliette reminded me, her voice light as she reached over to tug playfully at my sleeve. "You're practically vibrating."

I managed to choke out a laugh, shaking out my hands. "I can't help it. What if it's not enough? What if the choreography falls flat?"

Elodie, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, glanced up with a reassuring smile. "It won't. You know that. The audience will love it. Besides, the only critic you really have to worry about is my mom, and she's probably already decided you're a genius."

The blunt English woman was difficult to please. I had only met her on one occasion and the whole time I wondered if she was capable of smiling. If she had high hopes for me then I supposed I would do fine.

Juliette reached over to squeeze my hand. "We've got this, Celeste. Stop overthinking it."

I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting the background noise of the room ground me.

"Is it just your mom here, El?"

She was on the floor, stretching one arm across her head to reach her foot. "My father's back in the UK on business and couldn't make it. Not surprising though, I don't think he's seen me on stage since I was five." Her curious gaze flickered up at me. "What about you, Celeste?"

I knew where the question was stemming from, but I brushed it off and focused on stretching out my back. "My parents are here," I said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "They're meeting me for dinner afterward."

"And your housemates?" Elodie pressed.

There it was.

I hesitated, my fingers twisting in the fabric of my costume. "I'm not sure. I haven't really spoken to any of them besides Easton."

I didn't need to elaborate as to why—how staying with Elodie had been my way of avoiding Maverick. The night Miles had found me in the studio I had sent her a quick message, asking if I could stay over at her place for a little while. The excuse was that I needed to focus and the house full of men had been too rowdy as of late. Of course, from the unnatural glances they were giving me, I was sure that they were aware I was full of shit.

My heart tightened as I thought about the playboy that had managed to charm me into delusion. I hadn't responded to any of his messages or calls. Mostly because I had no idea what to say, but also because I was still embarrassed and hiding my tail between my legs. Still, part of me wondered if he would show up tonight.

"Celeste?"

I blinked, realizing one of the event coordinators was standing in front of me, clipboard in hand.

"You guys are up next," she said with a smile.

I gave her a wobbly smile as I rose to my feet and brushed invisible dust off my costume.

"Well," I said to the two women grinning back at me. "I guess it's showtime."

And then, we danced.

When the final note faded, the applause was immediate. It repaired something in me that I hadn't noticed was broken.

The night air was cool as I stepped out of the theater building with my parents. The scent of damp pavement mingled with the faint aroma of coffee drifting from a nearby café. My mom carried the bouquet they'd brought for me, a cluster of soft pink roses wrapped in delicate paper.