Palindrome

Thirty-Three

Chapter 33

"Ladies this is your ten-minute call," Giselle tells us poking her head into the messy dressing room.

All around me clothes are being thrown as people search for their stuff. Makeup palettes, brushes, and wipes spread across the countertops. I look at myself in the mirror, brushing out the ends of my hair. Skye already worked her magic on it, a Dutch braid from the top while the rest of my hair fans just beneath my shoulders as always. Eyeliner paired with concealer to hide those insufferable dark circles of mine and a touch of light pink lip balm.

Giselle shimmies her way through the crowd of screaming girls. She smiles when she sees me giving my long black choir dress and look a nod of approval. Then she points to my wrist, "You can't have those on stage. Remember only neutral, crystal bracelets on stage."

I instantly grip my wrist to my side, plastering a joking smile for her, "I thought I was the exception to all your rules Ms. Giselle."

Giselle brushes a strand of hair from her face, "Not on show day Aarohi."

Nodding, I wipe my palms turning sweaty on the cool surface of the counter behind me. There's no way in hell I can take these off. Last night, I didn't do much. Blue dots marked by the ballpoint line the inside of my wrist. If anyone were to catch it and pick up the slightest suspicion- I couldn't have that.

"You'll be fine," Giselle assures me, mistaking my rigidness for stage fright.

"Of course, I won't let you down," I reply.

Yeah, right.

With one final pat on my shoulder and grin, she walks off to another corner to talk to one of the other choir officers. Turning around I scowl at my right hand. I totally blanked out on picking up Ma's crystal clasp today. Yet again, I've managed to screw a simple thing up.

They're going to see you.

Okay, it's fine if they do.

Everyone will think you're pathetic.

They already do. I can't make it worse myself. This time I can't hide behind a long-sleeve shirt, or a string of bracelets. I'm not ready for that yet. I can't do this. I can't.

My chest.

It hurts.

A burning sensation has overtaken my entire right side. Fire racing down my lungs, into my chest that it feels like someone's set it on fire. It feels as if someone's crushed my head into a million pieces and tried to stitch it together haphazardly.

All for some stupid bracelets.

Clenching my fists, I place a hand on my chest and try to steady my breathing with rhythmic counting. Squeezing my eyes shut so tightly that they ache from the effort. Then I feel the lightest touch on my shoulder. I open my eyes to see two glimmering eyes staring at me.

Bronwyn motions for me to hold out a palm. I do so and she drops an intertwined crystal bracelet in my hand that runs in overlapping strings to form a shimmering mess. Some of the anxiety in me melts to confusion. Bronwyn twines a piece of her blond hair that's come undone from the elegant milkmaid crown that's in. Her blue eyes are looking at a makeup wipe on the floor with great interest.

"I don't understand," I tell her blatantly.

Bronwyn steels her gaze with mine, "I just overhead Giselle talking to you about the bracelets or whatever. And now you look like Abraham before he has an attack so yeah."

"So you're doing this to help me?" I ask. Her face seems to shift back into focus, and I can no longer hear the loud beating of my heart in my ears.