Chapter 11


    Brielle


    5:54 PM


    "Five, six, seven, eight!" I shouted, trying to be heard over the sting music.


    It had been nearly a week since Christopher and I had went to the carnival. Ever since then, we were


    awkward around each other, not really knowing what to say to one another. We used to be able to hide


    behind our bickering, but ever since then we couldn''t. After that night, I knew that something had


    changed between us, but I didn''t know that it would happen in this way. Our usual banter was reced


    by total silence.


    We were in the dance studio, practicing our routine for the showcase. We finished scraping the gum


    from under the bleachers, so now myplete focus was on this dance. Christopher knew the basic


    choreography of our routine, but his technique still needed to be improved tremendously. I knew that


    we still had a long way to go. He struggled the most with the lifts in the routine. Although he was strong,


    he had no idea how to execute them, and how to make them look graceful. Because of this, I was too


    scared to practice them with him.


    When we got to the most difficult lift, I held my breath, not wanting him to drop me. He threw me up in


    the air sessfully, but when it came time to catch me, his hand slipped from my waist. My eyes


    widened, as the floor became closer and closer and closer until...


    Thud.


    Hot, white pain coursed through my body as Inded on the floor. In an effort to break my fall, I fell on


    my left foot, causing my ankle to roll in the process. I curled in a ball on the studio floor, grabbing my


    ankle and rolling back and forth in pain. Christopher quickly kneeled beside me, his faceced with


    concern.


    "Are you okay Brielle?" He asked franticly, running his fingers through his hair. "Do you need


    anything?"


    I shook my head no as I bit my lip to hold in the pain.


    "I''m fine," I squeaked out, using all my energy to sound remotely okay. I held in my tears, wanting to


    stay strong.


    He offered a hand towards me. "Are you okay getting up?"


    I nodded my head yes as I grabbed onto his hand, using my good leg to help me get up. Once I put


    down my bad leg, however, the pain returned. The intensity was so great that I nearly fainted. I fell on


    my butt in agony, all my resolve now gone.


    I let the tears roll down my face as I sobbed into my hands. If I couldn''t even walk, there was no way


    that I could do ballet. Thest thing that I needed was some ankle injury two months away from the


    showcase. I had no clue how long I would have to sit out of dance.


    Two hands scoop around me as I was swept off the floor. I looked up to see Christopher carrying me


    bridal style out of the room. He nimbly navigated the hallways as if I weighed nothing.


    "Where are we going?" I choked out in between sobs


    "We''re going to the athletic trainer. She always helps when one of the yers gets injured."


    N?velDrama.Org content rights.


    I nodded my head, not wanting to talk more than I needed to. The throbbing in my ankle intensified as it


    began to turn red and swollen. I buried my head in his shirt, wetting it with my tears. When we finally


    reached the athletic trainer''s office, his shirt had arge wet patch on it.


    "Sorry," I said sheepishly when he put me down, spotting the stain on his shirt.


    We walked into the office only to find that it was empty. He set me down on the stic bed, grabbing an


    icepack from the fridge and an ankle wrap from a cab. He moved swiftly through the office, seeming


    to know where everything was.


    "Do youe here a lot?" I questioned, curious on why he was so familiar with theyout.


    He shrugged nonchntly. "My teammates get injured all the time. I always watched the trainer help


    them so I pretty much know what to do."


    He kneeled beside me, cing the icepack on my ankle. I shuddered, the pressure of the bag causing


    a sharp pain to shoot up my leg.


    "Ow!" I winced, cing my hand on my forehead as I squeezed my eyes shut. He grabbed a bandage


    from beside him and began gently wrapping my foot. Despite his efforts, it still hurt like hell.


    "Say something to distract me," I spat out.


    "I don''t know what to say."


    "Just say anything!" I opened my eyes at him, staring expectantly.


    "OK, fine," he said, a look of deep concentration on his face. Suddenly, a blush crept up on his cheeks.


    "Promise that you won''t tell anyone?"


    I was too preupied on his red face toprehend what he just said. "Are you blushing?"


    "Never mind," he grumbled, looking away.


    "No, no I was kidding," I said, trying to contain myughs. "Come on, tell me!"


    He paused a moment before he mumbled something iprehensible under his breath.


    "What was that?" I asked.


    He mumbled again, this time I could only make out a few words.


    "You have to speak up. You know that I have tiny ears."


    He took a deep breath before he shouted out, "I want to be a stunt double!"


    At that point, I couldn''t contain myughs. The idea of Christopher jumping out of buildings was almost


    tooical to bear.


    "Don''tugh," he said, in-betweenughing himself. "I know it sounds ridiculous but I''ve been in karate


    ever since I was a kid. I''ve always been pretty reckless and an adrenaline junkie, so I thought it would


    be the perfect job for me."


    As much as I thought it was funny, I could kind of see it. He was always doing crazy things, and he was


    probably one of the most fearless people I knew. If there was anyone that I would expect to put


    themselves in dangerous positions on purpose and enjoy it, it would be him.


    "So, if you''ve taken karate for over a decade why in the world are you so bad at dance?"


    "Dance is so different it''s not even funny."


    He looked at me, his eyes growing serious. "But you promise not to tell anyone?"


    "I promise," I said, zipping my mouth closed with my hand. "My lips are sealed."


    I was so distracted that I didn''t even notice that he had finished wrapping my foot. He pushed himself


    off of the floor, now towering above me as he inspected his handy work.


    "You probably just rolled it. Just keep it elevated and don''t walk on it and you should be fine." He


    grabbed my leg that was dangling over the side of the bed and rested it on top. "We should probably


    wait for the trainer just to be sure."


    I nodded my head, surprised at how much he seemed to know about this stuff. The room grew quiet as


    we had nothing left to say.


    "So why don''t you want to be a professional athlete?" I asked, trying to break the silence. He shrugged


    his shoulders, looking anywhere but at me.


    "I like ying football because it''s fun, but I feel like doing it as a job will take that away. I don''t want it


    to ever feel like a chore."


    While I understood what he was saying, I couldn''t rte. Dancing was my everything. If I could dance


    every minute of every day for the rest of my life, I would be the happiest girl on Earth. The thought of


    not doing it every day was unimaginable.


    "What would you do if you couldn''t dance?" He asked, seeming to read my thoughts.


    I chewed on my lip, trying to think of anything, but my mind seemed to go nk. "I have no clue."


    He scoffed at me, rolling his eyes. "You''re telling me that even if you could join the circus or be a


    famous singer you still wouldn''t want to do anything but dance?"


    I racked my brain, trying to think of anything before it finally hit me.


    "If I had to choose I would do something in the water." I smiled at the idea. "Every week me and my dad


    wake up early and go swimming in the ocean. Besides dancing, it''s the only time that everything else in


    my life just seems to disappear."


    I closed my eyes, remembering the cold water and crisp air. Thatbined with the sunrise and the


    only quality time that me and my dad spend together makes it one of the highlights of my week.


    "Have you ever gone surfing?" he asked.


    "No way. Knowing my luck, I would get bitten by a shark or something."


    "You know that never really happens."


    "I''m not taking any chances."


    He looked at me smugly. "I didn''t take you for a chicken."


    I knew that he was just trying to egg me on, but my pride couldn''t take being called a chicken.


    "I am not!"


    "Then prove it, once your ankle goes down, we''re going surfing."


    "Fine."


    Once it left my mouth, I wished that I could take it back. Ever since I watched Soul Surfer, the idea of


    even touching a surf board made me anxious.


    Why did I always seem to agree to things I don''t want to do when I''m around him?


    At that moment, the athletic trainer walked in. She shook her head once she spotted my foot.


    "Christopher, what did I tell you about treating other students by yourself. Especially afterst time."


    "What happenedst time?" I questioned, genuinely curious. She gave Christopher a scolding nce


    before answering my question.


    "He diagnosed his teammates broken leg as a muscle cramp and told him to, and I quote," she made


    air quotes with her fingers, "Walk it off."


    I winced, imagining the pain of walking on a broken bone.


    Christopher put his hands up in the air, as if he was surrendering. "In my defense, when I asked what


    his pain was on a scale of one-to-ten he said a five."


    "When I talked to him after he said that you asked on a scale of one-to-five, not one-to-ten."


    He paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side.


    "That makes a lot more sense."


    I shook my head at him in frustration. "Why in the world would you touch my foot after that!"


    "Rx, I knew it was just a sprained ankle, and I watched five seasons of Grey''s Anatomy since then


    so I''m much more qualified."


    I scoffed at him. "Are you serious?"


    Before he could respond, the trainer answered for him. "Sadly, he is."


    She knelt by my foot, inspecting Christopher''s work. After a few seconds, she sighed, getting back up.


    "The bad news is that he actually did a good job."


    "How is that a bad thing?" Christopher protested.


    "Because now you''re going to go around and misdiagnose more injuries."


    She walked towards the cabs, her back now facing away from us as she ruffled through them.


    Christopher sat on the bed beside me so that our knees were touching. I leaned closer to him,


    whispering in his ear.


    "You really don''t care, do you?"


    His brows knitted in confusion. "About what?"


    "Consequences. You just do whatever you want whenever regardless of what happens because of it."


    His face was just inches away from mine, our noses almost touching. He nced down towards my lips


    before locking eyes with me again. The rest of the room seemed to fade away as all that I could focus


    on was him. The air stood still as the moment seemed to stretch on forever.


    He suddenly backed away from me, quickly ncing away. He let out a sigh, running his hands through


    his hair.


    "I wish."