The Hit List (3 page)

I can’t believe I didn’t know about this before I decided to come to The Conservatory. Three thousand miles means a whole lot less if I have to put up with a sex game all year. It’s too late to transfer somewhere else. No one will have any openings at the beginning of the semester.

Brielle grabs my phone and holds it closer to her face to read the screen. “What are you talking about?”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s like some urban legend. It’s not actually real.”

Someone’s done an awesome job at breathing life into this urban legend. “Looks real to me.” I cross my arms.

Brielle hands my phone back to me. “Where did you find this?”

I drop my phone on the bed and sit up to lean against the wall. “It’s on The Conservatory blog.”

She glares at me and pushes the power button on her laptop. A few clicks later, and the blog post is on her screen.

“What the hell? I seriously thought it was just a rumor last year.” Brielle scrolls through the post.

Adam leans over Brielle’s shoulder. “I liked this blog, too. The gossip was fantastic.”

Brielle swivels in her chair. Her brown curls fly through the air at the movement and smack her in the face. She pulls at a few strands stuck to her lip gloss. “Is that all you ever pay attention to? There was some good stuff on there. And now some psycho with a sex addiction has taken it over.”

He narrows his eyes at her, like he’s deep in thought. “There are days I wonder what it would be like to have your brain, to know exactly how you reach these blown-out-of-proportion conclusions.”

As if I didn’t have enough anxiety about starting class tomorrow as the girl in
Jeté Magazine
, now I have to worry about if my name is used in this sex game.

That’s totally cool. I needed a little challenge in my life.

I roll off the bed and grab my dance bag out of the closet.

“I’m going to the studio. See you guys later,” I yell to them without looking back. I can hear their bickering even after I’ve shut the door.

Dancing is what keeps me sane. When everything else falls apart around me, I’ll always have the studio. That’s where I go to escape. If anything can help with the stress, it’s dancing.

The classroom side of the school is quiet. A couple students wander through the halls. Two guys walk past me and one of them whistles. I keep my eyes trained on the ground ahead of me. Before the blog post, I would have assumed they’d seen the article. Now I’m not so sure.

I round the corner toward the studios. My mom’s ringtone blasts through the silence, echoing off the walls. Two weeks isn’t even a record for her, but it feels like it’s been forever. She’d been on a business trip when I left and couldn’t be bothered to come home to see her only daughter off to college.

I slide the answer button. “Hey.”

“Did you make it to L. A.okay?” she says. My mom has never been one for formalities.

“Yeah, four days ago.”

“Good. I didn’t pay all this money so you could throw your career away again. Focus on your dancing and stay away from boys. You’ll get back up to where you were before you got hurt, and you should have a job by the end of the year.”

“I know.” I don’t understand how someone can be so overbearing and absent all at once.

We’ve had this conversation before and I hate it more every time. I don’t need this from her. She’s not even a mother the majority of the time. She’s never had a lot of time for me, only swooping in to parent when it’s convenient for her.

“I’m serious, Sadie. We don’t need another situation like you had in New York. I told you not to get involved with that boy.” Her voice is harder than it was a few seconds ago, like she’s trying to drive her point home. As if I didn’t get it.

My vision blurs, but I blink back the tears. I refuse to cry. Tears will only give her more ammo to use against me, and that’s the last thing I need. “I know.”

“Good.”

And that’s why my mom will never be the mother I need. She doesn’t understand how hearing “I told you so” from her hurts more than Patrick leaving.

She hangs up without saying goodbye. Typical.

I toss my bag against the wall and hook my iPod into the stereo system. I let it shuffle through my dance playlist. I don’t have a preference today. The only thing I want is to get lost in music and the movements.

A violin breaks through the quiet of the empty studio. The beat behind it is perfect for what I need. I fall into improvised steps easily.

My muscles relax as the air around my body heats up. I push off the ground with my right leg and bring my left leg up behind me. My arms move over my head. My hair brushes against the bottom of my foot and a tingle runs down my leg, but I hold the position in the air until my right foot connects with the ground again. My left leg falls slower, reaching the ground a few seconds behind.

The music drifts off and a new song starts, softer than the first. A flash of green in the doorway catches my eye. I turn to catch whoever has decided to watch my private rehearsal, but no one’s there.

Maybe no one ever was. Just another illusion of someone who cares before it turns to dust.

3

The studio is a flurry of activity the next morning. Half the class is already there when we walk through the doors. A couple of girls whisper to each other just inside the door. Brielle slows as we pass them.

“I heard there’s this new game called The Hit List and people are, like, killing other people over it. Like a real hit list.” The girl’s eyes widen as she tries to show her friend just how serious she is.

I open my mouth to correct her, but Brielle elbows me and takes a step toward them. The smile drops from her face and she looks completely serious as both girls stare at her.

“I heard someone legit got killed last night because they were playing that game. You better watch your back so something like that doesn’t happen to you.”

The girls hang on her words. The blond one leans closer as Brielle speaks, like it’s the most fascinating thing she’s heard all day.

The brunette’s eyes widen like her friend’s and I can see the outline of her contacts. “Come on, Noelle. You can’t really believe that.” She frowns in disbelief, but the worry lines on her face give her away.

Brielle crosses her arms over her chest and sticks her hip out. “It’s true. I saw it.”

“For serious?” Noelle’s voice is barely above a whisper, like it’s some big secret even though it was posted on a public blog.

“For serious.” Brielle glances at me. She can’t hide the smile at the corner of her mouth. The girls look at each other and nod. Their faces are just as somber as Brielle’s was seconds ago.

If it wasn’t so cruel, it might be comical.

“Thanks,” one of them says, like Brielle actually did her a favor.

Brielle walks away. I follow her to a section of unoccupied floor and sit down.

“That was mean.” I glance over at the girls who whisper fiercely to each other again. It’s not their fault they didn’t hear what the game is actually about.

She shrugs. “They’ll figure it out.”

I guess. Hopefully it’s before someone tries to take advantage of them.

I stretch my legs out in front of me and lean forward. My left hip tightens momentarily, a side effect from my injury last year, but it’s not unpleasant. It’s the familiar feeling of loosening muscles. I love it.

Anxiety bubbles throughout the room. Or maybe it’s just me. I resist the urge to bounce my legs to let off some of my nervous energy. A pulled muscle on my first day will not help.

A group of older women and men who I assume are the teachers stand at the front of the room. They watch as students enter the studio. I recognize one of the women from my entrance audition. She catches me looking at her and smiles.

Adam sits down in front of us. “Hey, ladies.”

I wave in response. Talking takes too much energy right now.

“Morning.” Brielle stifles a yawn.

“You better wake up fast. You know more than anyone that yawning equals boredom in here. And you better never let them think you’re bored.”

Brielle waves him off with her hand. “I’ll be fine as soon as we start moving around.”

I push myself farther into my stretch to rest my chest and stomach on the floor. From my position flat against the ground, I have a perfect view of Luke where he stands a little ways away from us. I want to move, but turning my head only gives me a view of Brielle’s crotch. I sigh, staring ahead again.

A pretty brunette walks up to Luke and wraps her arms around his neck. She was probably the one he was texting yesterday. I want to ignore their conversation, but despite my best efforts, I can’t. They’re too close and not exactly trying to be quiet. He glances at me, and I roll my eyes, drawing out a smile from him. It’s a little ridiculous that he seems to flirt with every girl he comes into contact with.

“Hey, Rachel.” Luke’s eyes rake up and down her body, flicking over to mine on occasion.

“I had fun last night. We should do it again soon.” Rachel bats her fake eyelashes at him. She wants to look cute, but instead she comes off a little creepy and clingy.

She plays with the collar on his shirt. He reaches up to remove her hand, but she laces her fingers through his and holds him in place. They’re like a couple from a romantic comedy. Except from the look on his face, he’s only trying to get in her pants.

A smile pulls at his lips, but he tries to play it off. Whether the act is for me or for her, I’m not sure. “What are you doing this weekend?”

I didn’t think it was possible, but she moves closer to him. She might as well jump into his arms. “Spending it with you, silly.”

It’s like a frickin’ train wreck. I can’t look away.

Brielle slides closer to me and watches the scene in front of us. Her leg moves behind mine so she can keep her stretch going while she takes in the entertainment.

Adam leans back on his hands and turns his head to see what we’re looking at. “What are we doing?”

Brielle waves her hand at his face. “Shh, this is getting good.”

He pulls his head back to keep from getting smacked in the face by Brielle. “Ooh, Luke’s new wannabe girlfriend. I feel like we need popcorn.”

We stare at them a little while longer as we warm up. She continues to touch him at every opportunity. His chest, his collar, his cheek.

Brielle makes a strangled sound at the back of her throat and moves away from me and back into her own space. “Gag me. You’d think with a sex game popping up she’d be a little more discreet. Apparently no one ever taught her how to play hard to get.”

“Because you do that so well,” Adam says.

Brielle grabs her water bottle and squirts it toward him. He throws his hands up to protect his hair, but the water sails by him and hits another girl in the back behind him. Brielle shoves her water bottle into Adam’s lap and looks up at the mirrors. The girl behind us glares at Adam and moves to the other side of the room.

“Thanks a lot. I love making enemies on the first day.” Adam’s eyes light up with amusement even though his face is serious.

Brielle continues to stare straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That was all you.”

Miss Catherine walks into the studio and all attention snaps to her. Conversations die mid-sentence and a hush rolls through the room. Luke moves away from Rachel and she’s forced to release him so they don’t get in trouble for talking. She looks frustrated as she sits down, like she can’t bear to be separated from him for more than a few seconds.

“Welcome, students. I hope you all had a chance to warm-up because we’re going to start class. All of the teachers will be with you this week to judge your skill levels. Once we can assess you, you’ll be split up by ability next week. Let’s get started with some barre exercises.”

Miss Catherine claps her hands and students come to life around me, pulling themselves off the floor.

Barre exercises quickly turn into floor exercises. I line up behind Brielle and Adam. A boy I don’t know stumbles and earns a few frowns from the teachers. His face turns a brilliant shade of red, but he continues.

Rachel moves to the corner to start the exercise. She sickles her foot instead of pointing it coming out of a piqué turn and the extension on her leap isn’t even a full one hundred and eighty degrees. She’s either off her game or she didn’t warm up.

It shouldn’t make me happy, but it does. Every imperfection by another student makes me one more step closer to the Fall Showcase.

Brielle and Adam both cross the floor without error. I step up to the corner, my feet finding fifth position automatically. The nerves fall away as I exhale. My muscles work from memory. It’s a combination I’ve easily done hundreds of times. I’m confident the leap looks exactly as it should with my legs straight and toes pointed.

I finish and glance at the teachers. Several of them have smiles on their faces. I chew on my lip to hide my own smile. When I look up to make sure I don’t run into anyone, I meet Luke’s eyes. He looks impressed with my technique. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and his smile widens. I focus on the next exercise as I rejoin the line.

Brielle shakes her head at me, but doesn’t say anything. I don’t get what her problem is, until I see Rachel smile at Luke and tuck her hair behind her ear in the exact same way. My stomach flips as I make the connection. She thought I was flirting with him.

Just because I don’t plan on having a relationship with anyone here doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun. Flirting is completely harmless. The worst that can happen is I lead him on, but Luke doesn’t seem like the type to let that happen.

The girl behind me in line finishes a moment later and the teachers applaud us. I focus on them instead of on the people around me.

The next three hours are more of the same. Floor exercises, barre exercises, putting on a show for the teachers, hoping to make it into an advanced class. When we’re done, sweat drips down my temples and plasters my tank top to my back.

Luke’s eyes catch mine for a second in the mirror before they flick back down to his phone, but he doesn’t try to hide the smile on his face. I don’t try to hide my look of indifference. His smile falls and his brow creases slightly.