Pas de Trois

Chapter 41: "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Chloe?"

Brent's voice was so soft Chloe almost didn't wake up. She opened her eyes just in time to see his face change from a sweet expression of concern to one of confusion.

"Chloe," he sighed.

"Yes?" Chloe made herself sit up. She glanced at the clock. Almost 11am. Her dad looked from her to Clay and back again, raising his eyebrows as if to ask for an explanation.

"Sorry, Brent," Clay sat up in bed next to her. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Okay, I don't want to get into this," Brent shook his head. "The director from City Ballet called. They want to speak with you."

"So they can tell me my dancing career is over?" Chloe knew she would have to face it eventually but the longer she could put it off, the better.

"Why don't you two put some clothes on and we can talk," Brent suggested, eyes darting back and forth between her and Clay.

"Still wearing all my clothes," Clay flipped the covers back. "I'll go downstairs. Bug Avery or something."

"Thanks," Chloe scooted over so her dad could sit down.

"Should I be worried about Clay spending the night?" Brent asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Why would you be worried about that?"

"Nevermind," Brent rolled his eyes. "Monkey, I don't know what they're going to say about having you come back. But more than that, I think you should really think about if New York is the best place for you."

"I love New York," Chloe didn't even have to think about that. "Why would it be a bad place?"

"It's not that New York is bad for you, I just think it might be better if you were close to the hospital here," Brent explained.

"But I thought I was going to be fine," Chloe protested. "I shouldn't need to stay here if I'm really okay. And there are good hospitals in New York too."

"The Stryder Clinic is in L.A.," Brent pointed out. "Your doctors who do nothing but research your condition are all here."

"I am not a science project," Chloe knew right away how much better she was because even though she was angry, she didn't feel like she might explode. Her thoughts didn't start racing either. "I'm either healthy or I'm not, Dad."

"Right now you're still recovering, but I understand," Brent took a deep breath. "I don't want you to feel like someone's project, Chloe, but we were all so scared for you. I know we'd all feel better if you were close. Just in case."

"Just in case of what? I made it 17 years before anything went wrong."

"You didn't make it 17 years, Chloe," Brent shook his head. "You struggled for the first 5 years of your life before we figured this out. So 12, maybe, and that whole time we were right here."

"Then I should have another 12 years before the next time," Chloe pointed out.

"It doesn't work like that, life never does," Brent said.

"So then you want me to live the rest of my life based on this stupid disease just because it might someday be a problem. Maybe," Chloe could barely even see straight.

"That's not it either, we just," Brent paused. "I just want you to play it safe. To be careful."

"You want. So Dad doesn't agree?"

"The thing I love about your dad is that he throws himself at his dreams," Brent sighed. "No matter what it costs. And I'm sorry, but when it comes to my kids I'm a little overprotective."