Calore Dance Academy// Red Queen AU

Chapter 52

blood in the water—

1. (idiomatic) In a competitive situation, the exhibition of apparent weakness or vulnerability by one party, especially when this leads to a feeling of vulnerability or greater pressure to perform on the part of the weak party, and/or enhanced expectation of victory by the other(s). (Wiktionary)

2. The exposure of a competitive weakness in an opponent that arouses increased competitive aggression in others. Likened to the literal presence of blood in water that causes aquatic predators (such as sharks) to seek out and attack prey. (The Free Dictionary)

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"Dare."

My heart, for all that's going on, pounds steadily.

The second-story foredeck wears mahogany wood and silver railings that reflect orange light. It's half the size of the deck upstairs, but its decor makes for an intimate, coquettish setting.

Couches the color of vanilla icecream arch around the circular space, adorned with plush, warm-hued pillows. Between them wait steely fire heaters shaped like the Freedom Tower, rivulets of flame shooting up from their bases and into a chilly night. Golden fairy lights sway above us, captured inside of bulbs and strung across the yacht's edges. At the foredeck's end wait two doors that open to a lavish bar, alight with all colors of alcohol.

Still in the sphere of Manhattan and its subject boroughs, far-off lights glimmer in a panoramic view. Otherwise, The Calore lies in the darkest parts of New York Harbor. The boat sways with the fairy lights, bobbing in the midst of a quiet, cool, and dark evening.

Half of the dancers lounge around on the couches, content to wear their sweatshirts and observe chaos unfold from afar. They hold glasses of wine, champagne, and whatever sorts of mixers the bartenders stir up inside, high off the dancing and the night itself. A few have even brought up blankets, but nobody's asleep. Not as they're witnessing Evangeline mutilate a high school game into a revenge plot.

The crown jewel of the foredeck currently boils me alive in more ways than one. In the center of the couches waits a jacuzzi hot tub big enough for twenty. It's as though the water is an arena and the couches are for the spectators. Incandescent lights embedded into the mahogany arch around the water, but half are covered by discarded sweatpants and sweatshirts.

Steam rolls off of the water in billows. Jetstreams pulse at my back and calves, and the heat and pressure feel amazing against a body sore from ballet. Wearing a scoop bikini top and a bottom the same color as the red wine that floats about the foredeck, I force myself to be comfortable in my swimsuit. I haven't needed one in a long time.

One of the Academy guys grins at Ptolemus. "In that case, I dare you to have another glass of wine."

Ptolemus returns the smile. "I have no problem with that. Hit me up." He still wears his shoulder patch, the gauze pad taped over his wound a few inches above the water. After last Saturday, he probably needs the extra glass.

Alcohol's flowing freely tonight, just as it did at the gala. It makes me nervous. Maven himself has a glass of red wine in hand, and he takes slow, deliberate sips of it.

Evangeline, on the other side of the hot tub, rolls her eyes at her brother. She wants no part in this light-hearted Truth or Dare. But the night, between the late hour and the wine, is quickly unraveling in her favor.

I hardly had a choice when Evangeline, commandeering the entire Academy's evening agenda, invited me and Maven into the hot tub to play her ruse of Truth or Dare. I frowned at her as I stripped off my sweats and pulled my hair into a knock, but I threw my clothes onto the floor nonetheless.