My feet hit the floor with a loud thud and I groan assessing my posture in the school studio mirrors. I've been working on this goddamn routine for ages and It just doesn't feel right, I keep messing it up. It was good when I practised on Thanksgiving?! I'd spent nearly eight hours in the studio and it was successful, a really great routine but today I just keep messing up. My shoes slide against the floor and the dull ache in my toes reminds me I need to get a new pair of pointes.

I run it through again, better but... not still not good enough. I groan shoving my clammy hands through my hair. The added heat from my long blonde hair on my back does not help the sweat gathering on my neck but it's more effective to wear it down...you know? Like the whole JLo at the super bowl energy. I swipe my clammy hands across my thighs and push them to my sides ready to start again.

The positioning of my body is interrupted by the high pitched ping coming from my phone. I wander over to the speaker it's perched on and press the on button to illuminate a text from Blaze.

Where r u Blondie? Brady's doing my fucking head in.

I chuckle to myself imagining Brady sat at the lunch table pissing everyone off. He really is like an excited golden retriever puppy, it's even worse when he's been fed and considering he usually eats his weight in greasy, cold fast food at lunch its no wonder he's so hyper.

Studio.

I hover over the keyboard, biting my lip.

if he's that annoying you could join me?

I kinda need an opinion on this piece anyway

The three little dots tease me as they jump up and down

Cool. Wu in 2 buttercup.

I let out a breath I didn't know had tensed me up and frown slightly at his awful text abbreviations, it's taken me sodding weeks to understand what half the shit he says is, what happened to just texting? I lock my phone and place it back down starting up the music again. The melody fills the studio and I let my feet guide me across the floor, straining as hard as I can until see perfection sprinkle out of the tips of my toes.

A loud "Boo" in the middle of my Grand Jetè has me squealing mid-jump. I whip my head around, not realising how close I am to the landing before dropping down onto the floor wrong and crumping into a pained ball. Ouch.

"Shit." I hear a mumble of curse words and then heavy footsteps behind me. A warm hand lands on the back of my long-sleeved leotard and another lands delicately on my arm. "Shit Blondie! I didn't mean to scare you like that, I didn't think you'd be doing the jumpy stuff. Are you hurt? Are you okay?" Blaze waffles off. I open my eyes and run my hands up and down my legs, looking for any visible injury, a dancers worst fear.

"I'm fine, you just scared me." I smile finally looking up to his eyes, the silver flecks reflect the worry swimming around in them. His hair is still slightly damp from the gym earlier and a minty scent engulfs me immediately. His blushed lips turn up slightly in a still worried smile, before one of his hands moves to my sweaty face, "Are you sure you're not hurt?" He asks quietly, his gruff voice nearly distracting me from the heat surging through my skin from his palm. His callous fingertips wander across my cheeks and fireworks erupt in my stomach.

"I-I- I'm... uh fine. It wasn't your fault." I stutter. He gives me an odd look then removes his hand off my face to help me up, I miss the warmth immediately as he pulls me off the floor very easily. I jump up onto my shoes making sure I really am okay and decide I'm fine.

"Well I mean to be honest it was... my fault," He rubs the back of his neck, biting back on his lip. His eyes wander up and down my body as I wrap my jacket tighter around my torso, "Are you sure you're okay?" His brows draw together.

"I'm fine I promise. Part of being a dancer is not being afraid to fall I guess. If you don't fall you don't learn... I'm not sure what I can learn from a jump scare through..." I laugh, dawdling through the studio. Blaze throws his leather jacket to the floor with a clunk of the chains and lowers himself down against the mirror next to it.

"Since you're fine I guess you can dance for me then." He props his chin on his hands, his eyes look up at me through his thick dark lashes and my stomach spins. Girls would kill to have naturally long eyelashes like his, the way they lightly flutter across his tanned skin- "What are you working on?" His voice draws me away from my deep thoughts about his thick lashes.

I groan stretching my back by bending backwards slightly, getting a glimpse of the ceiling lights, "I'm doing a new routine, I've been working on it for ages but I just keep getting things wrong. I literally spent hours on Thanksgiving at a studio and I had it-" I straight away want to shove the words back into my mouth. Nobody goes out dancing on Thanksgiving, he's going to ask why I wasn't with my family.

"You went to the studio on thanksgiving?" His eyebrows shoot up. My palms sweat, think of something quick!

"Yeah uh... my mom she was... she was called into work last minute and my dad... he had to fly to ... my nans last , minute because she fell sick. She's better now. But I didn't want to spend all day doing nothing so I went to practice." I've never even met my adoptive parent's mom and dad. Sometimes it scares me how I'm able to think of this stuff so fast. Blazes eyes squint slightly like he can call my bullshit but chooses to ignore it.

"You should have texted me or something... my mom always makes too much food." He shrugs nonchalantly but my insides turn to liquid. He just said that I could have gone over to his right? His rings glint in the studio light.

"Oh uh... thanks but uh it was fine. Anyway, how was your Thanksgiving?" I change the flow and plop myself on the floor next to him, secretly smelling his aftershave, the pine and mint flowing around my nose.

Blaze tenses slightly, his eyes darting around the space, I don't think he's going to answer but he lets out a long agitated sigh.

"It was okay... alright. My grandparents flew over." He shrugs absentmindedly still not looking at me, I feel there's a but coming, like there's something he's holding back from telling me?

"That nice... I feel there's a but coming. What else happened?" His eyes finally look up to mine, the silver flecks in the blue pools look disappointed, confusing me.

"You know I said I used to race in New York?" He mumbles and I nod, "Well for the first time in years I went to a race on thanksgiving. I shouldn't have done it, I know it was wrong and it was reckless to think I could have lost my future in football over it." He looks torn and I instinctively place my hand on his arm, he looks down at it but doesn't move it. I blush like a frigging tomato trying to direct my focus back on his obvious dilemma.

"Why did you do it then?" He shuffles at my question, lowering his head further into his lap like a scolded puppy.

"I don't know... I just wanted to see what happened, I craved that kind of release again. It sounds stupid." He mumbles running a hand through his damp hair.

"It doesn't Blaze. What happened?" I'm expecting him to close up any second and sulk away but he doesn't he just places his hand on top of mine, still resting on his arm. Tingles burn up my arm and I resist a smile.

"I just realised what an idiot I was. Sure it worked for a bit, just racing around the track- winning again. I felt powerful, I felt like there was nothing else to worry about. Then I realised I could lose everything again if I was caught. It reminded me of who I was in New York, why I used that as a release instead of just talking to someone. And I don't want to be that person again..." He mumbles looking away from me. Its obvious Blaze has such regret over his past but he's too hard on himself.

"We make mistakes but the fact you realised what you did was wrong proves you're not that person-"

"It wasn't a mistake! I deliberately did it behind everyone's backs!" He shouts storming to his feet. I jump at his harsh tone, watching him pace about with tensed muscles, muttering curse words as he strides agitated across the room. Eventually, he catches my eye and softens letting his arms drop from behind his head, "Sorry... I'm sorry Butterfly. I just get so-"

"Angry at yourself." I finish for him, I know what it's like to be angry at yourself, blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. He looks at me sheepishly and nods, "What was on your mind that made you want 'release'?" I ask, pulling my legs up to my chest. He wanders about some more looking conflicted.

"College," He doesn't meet my eye but walks closer to me, the hairs on my arms immediately reacting- standing to attention, "I've just worked so hard and I'm worried it'll be for nothing." He sighs dropping back down next to me.

"It won't be for nothing! You're crazy good at football. One of the most talented players I've ever seen, and the passion you have for it... well it's uh... mesmerizing, "A small smile falls upon my lips and my eyes glare down at the floor, heat coursing through my cheeks, "You're going to Alabama... I believe in you... so you should too..." Silence falls upon us but it's comfortable, I can feel Blaze's eyes on the side of my face, his hand moves down my arm and places my fingers in between his, he gives my hand a small squeeze making my heartbeat erratic.

"Thank you... for uh... not leaving me, not treating me like some outcast. And uh... thanks for not judging me... you're just so easy to talk to. I don't want to burden you but I like talking to you... sorry." He mumbles in a completely un-Blaze like manner. His nervousness is shocking in the sense that no one ever sees it, it makes him more human.

"You're not burdening me. I like talking to you too." I worry about the sweat pooling in my palms, I do like talking to him... he makes me want to tell him everything but I feel this tugging in the back of my mind- I can't tell him.

We sit for a while, my hand still enclosed in his just listing to the distant whistle from the field outside and the pitter-patter of footsteps along the corridor, neither of us need to say anything to know the energy in the room feels lighter... yet more charged.

BANG.

The studio door flings open and smashes against the wall.

"Hey guys-" Emily walks in with our friends hot on her heels, they all look at us as we scramble away from each other like we're on fire, "We didn't interrupt anything did we?" She snickers all eyebrows raising at us with grins. My face burns and Blaze scowls letting out a little cough.

"Uh... we were just.. uh..." Now is not the time to stutter, I look at Blaze for help but he's withholding a mischievous grin. Asshole!

"I was just watching Atlas dance." He mumbles walking closer behind me, I can feel him in my space, his hot breath tantalising my skin.

"Sure..." Ethan grins, they all nod mockingly and I can feel my skin burning, we're just friends why is everyone getting so... weird.

I plop myself down into the awkward chair in the reception area of the main offices, the receptionist looking smugly at me as the cushion deflates with a small whoosh of air, making me feel short once again. I watch as her red chipped nails finger through some filing, occasionally licking one of her fingers to keep them from sticking. School pictures and new articles line the wall I lean back against, compared to the rest of the school the main offices are the most dated. Four doors lead off to the Principles office, Vice principles office, one of the medical rooms and the guidance councillor.

I crumple the small note in between my fingers, lucky me I've got a meeting with the guidance councillor. I used to have weekly meetings with her when I first moved here amid my situation- being adopted and having as 'colourful' past like mine, my social worker sometimes checked in with her too but after a few years, the meetings got monthly and then every few months since she was happy with my wellbeing and 'ability to settle in. Unfortunately for her, I just told her everything she wanted to hear and played 'fun trust games' with her. Having been in the system for a long enough time it's easy to manipulate these kinds of situations- know exactly what to tell them to make them think you're fine.

The door to her office swings open as another child steps out, red eyes and blotchy face. Miss Stentham from behind gives him a pat on the back and he wanders off back down the hall. She looks around the office and her eyes land on me, her welcoming smile getting bigger.

"Atlas! Please come in..." She opens the door wider and gestures me inside. Miss Stentham Is one of my favourite teachers, she's so lovely and kind, she's different from anyone I've ever met in this kind of profession. Whilst others used to walk on eggshells around me or push me until I was in tears, she'll just tell it how it is with this level of delicacy that'll make you trust her even if you try desperately not too.

Her heels click behind me and as I settle into the chair, she does the same in the wheely one behind the desk, a new addition since I was last in here. She catches me looking at the desk.

"I know... I hate it, it makes me feel so far away," She sighs, "Actually how about we move down to the bean bags?" She gestures to the corner where the beanbags rest against the wall, I smile happily- I used to love sitting in those damn things, her informal way of working is what I love the most.

We settle down and she kicks her heels off making me giggle as she straightens her blonde bob, she's surprisingly young for a teacher but that's probably why I like her more.

"So how are you, lovely? " She smiles caringly giving me her full attention.

"I'm okay... I uh... I've started dancing again... and I've made some new friends." I mumble, she moves back slightly with an even bigger smile. She clasps her hands together and lets out a small squeal.

"You know, I heard you'd started on the cheer team again but dancing... Atlas that amazing! How do you feel?" She gushes and for the first time, I feel like I'm doing the right thing, like everything's going to fall into place.

"It's incredible, being in pointe shoes again... I just feel so... well there are no words," I shrug, it's hard to put it into words without sounding crazy, I can't tell her that I feel closer to my momma, I feel free and unabused.

"I'm so proud of you Atlas, I really am, you look so much brighter too... and these friends...?" She places her hand on my knee and squeezes gently, I actually believe her sincerity.

"Yeah, they're great, really great." I smile to myself and look at Miss Stentham, she looks happy too- adding more reassurance to my choices.

"I'm glad!" She chuckles, I think she's glad I'm finally branching out, even if it is my last year. Every week she'd ask about friends and I'd just shrug, ignoring the subject completely.

"Actually there's another reason I called our meeting today... I wanted to ask about College? You're still aiming to get a scholarship right?" I nod as she walks back to her desk to collect some papers and a notebook, "Alrighty well I just thought we could spend this time to go through your options and see if you'd thought any more about what you want to do?" She settles down in the beanbag again heightening my nerves... I've spent nights tossing and turning in bed thinking about this. I've run through the pros and cons and analysed every single thought, idea and fact but every time I came to the same conclusion, the same heart-led decision.

"Dance... I want to do dance... I can't imagen not doing it." She nods slowly dotting down a few things on her pad, I've also thought long and hard about this next decision. I know there is a lot of work to be done and I actually have to be doing at least ten hours of dance a week currently... which is an issue with money and time but I'll figure it out... "I want to apply to Julliard."

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🖤🥰