Chapter 3 The Weight of the Name
My feet are screaming. It's a sharp, pulsing heat that starts at my arches and stabs all the way up to my calves. I'm sitting on the cold floor of the locker room, staring at my toes. They are raw and angry, the skin worn thin by the cheap ballet shoes I found in the lost-and-found.
I reach into my bag and pull out a roll of silver duct tape. I don't have the pretty pink medical tape the other girls use. I tear a strip off with my teeth and start wrapping my bleeding toes.
"That's going to hurt like hell when you pull it off."
I don't need to look up. I know that voice. Caspian is leaning against the lockers, looking like he stepped out of a magazine. His hair is perfect. His clothes are expensive. He doesn't have a single drop of sweat on him.
"It keeps the blood off the floor," I say, smoothing the tape down. "Isn't that what you want? A clean stage?"
Caspian walks closer. For a second, his shadow hides me. He looks at my feet, and I see his jaw tighten. I expect him to laugh, but he doesn't.
"You're dancing with too much weight in your heels," he says quietly. "That's why you're blistering. If you'd listen to the music instead of fighting me, it wouldn't hurt so much."
"I'm not fighting the music, Caspian. I'm fighting you."
I stand up, wincing as the tape pulls at my skin. I grab my bag and try to walk past him, but he catches my arm. His grip isn't mean. It's just firm. My heart skips a beat, but I pull away.
"My father is coming to the studio today," he says. The bored look on his face is gone. He looks almost scared. "He's the main donor for the Gala. He expects everything to be perfect."
"Then you better be perfect," I snap. "I'm just here for the paycheck."
I leave through the back door and catch the bus. The ride to the Flats takes forever. I watch the big houses on the hill disappear, replaced by the broken streetlights and grey buildings of my neighborhood.
When I get home, the apartment smells like bleach and old soup.
"Zoe? Is that you?"
Lumi is in her wheelchair by the window. She has a blanket over her legs, even though the room is hot. She hasn't walked since the crash. Every time I look at her, I feel the metal of the car crushing my chest all over again.
"Hey, Lu," I say, kissing her forehead. "How was your day?"
"Fine," she says, but she looks tired. "You look like you've been in a fight."
"Just dance practice," I lie.
I head to the kitchen for water, but I stop when I see the mail on the table. There is an envelope with a lawyer's stamp on it. The name on the corner makes my blood turn to ice: Thorne & Associates.
I open it with shaking hands. It's a legal paper. Caspian's father isn't just suing for the car damage. He's asking for thousands of dollars for "distress." It's more money than my mom will make in ten years.
"Zoe? What is it?" Lumi asks from the doorway.
"Nothing," I say, hiding the paper behind my back. "Just school stuff."
I don't sleep that night. I spend the hours in the dark, practicing my hand movements. Every time I close my eyes, I see the headlights from the crash. And then, I see Caspian's eyes.
The next morning, the Academy is full of men in suits. The most important one is Arthur Thorne. He is tall and looks like he's never lost an argument in his life. He stands with the Director, watching us like we are horses at a race.
Caspian is on the floor, dancing a solo. He's moving so fast I'm afraid he'll break. He keeps looking at his father, his face pale and desperate. He's not dancing for fun. He's dancing for his life.
Coach Elias walks up to me. "You're up next, Zoe. Show them that fire."
I walk onto the floor. I feel Arthur Thorne's eyes on me. He doesn't know who I am yet. To him, I'm just the outreach kid. He doesn't know I'm the girl who crashed into his client's car.
The music starts. It's the duet.
Caspian moves toward me. When he takes my waist, I feel his hand shaking. It's a tiny shake, but I feel it. He's terrified of failing in front of his dad.
I reach up and put my hand on his shoulder. I lean in close so only he can hear me.
"Don't look at him," I whisper.
Caspian's eyes snap to mine.
"Look at me," I say.
For a moment, the world stops. We aren't rich and poor. We aren't a lawsuit and a victim. We are just two people moving together. I pull him into my rhythm, my heavy street style mixing with his clean ballet lines. It's messy, it's loud, and it's real.
When the music ends, the room is silent. Then Arthur Thorne starts to clap. A slow, heavy sound.
He walks onto the floor, looking at me with a sharp smile. "Impressive. And who is this, Caspian? I don't remember her from the audition tapes."
Caspian stands up straight, his mask coming back on. "This is Zoe Vane, Father."
Arthur's smile stays, but his eyes go cold. "Vane? That's a very familiar name."
My heart stops. I can feel the duct tape on my toes. I want to run, but I stay still.
"It's a common name," I say, keeping my voice steady.
"Is it?" Arthur steps closer. "I have a very good memory for names. I think I have a file on a Vane back at the office."
He turns to talk to the Director, but I can still feel his shadow over me. I look at Caspian. He's staring at the floor, his fists clenched.
I realise then that the scholarship was never the hard part. The war hasn't even started. And when it does, none of us are walking away clean.