Downfall [h.s]

↞ Chapter 27 ↠

I was practically living at the dance studio this week. I couldn't stand being around Harry, or even Toby, so I avoided them both by spending all my available time away at the studio. Guilt still made my stomach churn everytime I looked at Toby's smiling, kind face. Anger made me want to drop kick Harry whenever I was within ten feet of him. Walking around and pretending that everything was okay was driving me insane. School felt like torture so the only place I had to escape was the studio.

It didn't help that I probably failed my math test on Monday. With all that happened, I had no time to study. It wasn't for a lack of knowing what to do either, it was more like I couldn't concentrate long enough to do it. Mr. West is going to be disappointed. But that would only pale in comparison to how mad Harry will be.

It was all the more reason to escape from the mess.

So I would go into the studio for my class with Mrs. Bellamy, teach my own classes, practice for the winter recital, then leave way past everyone else. My feet hated me for it, but the pain only made me push myself harder. Even when sores made it hurt to put on my pointes or when blood pooled at the bottom of my box from a broken toenail, I still pushed until I was at the brink of exhaustion each and every night.

Because no matter how much I was physically hurting, I was far more emotionally wrecked. Harry had reduced me to nothing with his words and yet, I couldn't seem to get him out of my head. Every time I closed my eyes I could still feel the ghost of his fingers on my skin, still taste him on my lips, still feel the butterflies in my stomach from his mouth against my neck. It was like a movie playing on repeat in the back of my head with no way to stop it and no ending in sight. I kept telling myself that he had effectively destroyed any feeling I thought I might have had for him, but sometimes I wondered otherwise.

So until the movie was done and I was sure that those thoughts were out of my head, I would keep punishing myself.

"Daisy, what are you still doing here?" A voice asked, suddenly stopping the music I had been dancing to.

Startled at the unexpected interruption, I lost my footing and fell back onto my butt with a loud bang. Evan rushed over to make sure I was okay, an apologetic smile on his face. I wanted to glare at him, you should never scare a ballerina when she was on her toes, but I was too preoccupied with the pain that my ankle was starting to experience to do it.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" He questioned, squatting down to check me over.

"Just my ankle," I sighed, "I'm hoping I just stunned it."

He sat at my feet, already unravelling the ribbons around my ankle, "Let me check it."

"Wait no-"

Before I could stop him, my pointe shoe was already being slipped off and tossed to the side. My heart began to hammer as he silently stared at my bruised and battered foot. The look on his face made my cheeks warm with shame. A second later he was tearing off the other shoe, quickly and almost a little angrily. I struggled against him and tried to pull my foot away, but he held my uninjured ankle firmly in his grip.