༺ FOURTEEN ༻

The doorbell rings just when I was about to eat the apple, yoghurt, and banana in front of me.

After yesterday, the guilt of barely eating had gotten so bad I felt the bile rise up in my throat, so I've decided to maybe not take it that hard on myself.

I leave the food hanging for later and open the door, surprise making me yelp. "Teresa!"

She looks up and down at me, and I shrink. I've gone from shorts all the time to longer pants, because it's September and slowly getting colder, and my shirt is a tight, blue one. "Hey, Rose. How're you?"

I do my best to smile, but the thought won't leave. She finds me fat. "I'm good, thanks. And you?" I glare at the cold outside world. "Come in, by the way! Unless you have plans soon."

Sooner or later, my smile is real. It's nice to know someone made the effort to come and see me and our conversation evolves fast, especially when we sit down on the couch.

"Want something to drink?" I ask in the middle of it. "We have likely everything."

"Do you have coke? Zero, please."

I get her a glass of the drink and water for myself, then sit back down. "So how's life been? Thomas mentioned you're good at science? Gonna use that for a future job?"

"I'm trying to get into a school to study for being a doctor," Teresa explains. "I'd love to make people feel better and things like that."

Understanding, I nod. "That's really nice." And I can't help myself, "Do you miss ballet?"

I see her hesitate, but then she shakes her head. "No. It was weird that I suddenly had ten more hours a week to spend, but I feel healthier now. There's no... people forcing me to do things or comparing myself to others."

My head tilts. "Hm. I've never thought of it that way."

She smiles. "Enough about me. How is it for you? I heard you got the role of Clara. Congratulations, by the way! It's really cool."

"Thank you." My cheeks catch a blush. I can't help it when I get compliments. "It's actually awesome. My partner's nice. Aris, you might know him. And I'm getting better at dancing and everything, so yeah."

Her whole face turns bright red, and the realization hits me fast, since I remember like ninety-nine percent of the things Thomas tells me.

"Aris is the one you like!" I peep, making a jump on the couch. "Right?"

Her face gets even redder. "Maybe. But I don't see him a lot since I quit and he barely speaks to me."

"I should totally ask him about you. Or at least mention you!" I suggest. Excitement hits me because I love helping couples out, though I haven't succeeded many times. "With your permission, of course."

She runs a nervous hand through her hair. "Well, okay. Fine. But don't make things too obvious."

"I won't," I promise.

A few minutes later, she's less red and we've gossiped all about the moment she had with Aris and why she fell for him specifically.

"What about the girls at ballet? Did they become nicer?" Teresa urges, scooting closer. "They better have."

I'm still smiling. "Yeah, they're great. I don't think they're really my friends but no one has said anything."

"Good." Her gaze softens.

"I just don't understand," I sigh out. The words leave my mouth before I know it. "They're so... skinny. They always dance perfectly and I don't understand how they do it."

Teresa makes a movement with an open mouth and her finger. "What do you think? Their lives aren't fun. It's part of why I quit. Toxic as hell. They won't go out to eat a nice dinner with their family."

My smile automatically fades. "They.. what? How do you know?" And I think my face pales at the thought, though I'm curious. "They make themselves," I lower my voice, "throw up?"

Her nod is mixed with a shrug. "I heard maybe two or three girls in the bathroom after Sports held their yearly dinner for all the members."

That's also an option.
My own thought scares the shit out of me. I don't think any color is in my face anymore. I can't think like this. I can't make myself throw up to lose weight. My teeth will get ruined by that.

I mentally frown. It's really just the teeth that won't like it. Janson will like it. Not the fact that I'm vomiting, of course, but the weight loss. And Aris and Henry and I will.

But I then shake my head, also mentally. I won't stick my finger in my throat to lose weight. I've got a fine diet now.

"Don't start doing that, please." Teresa's voice shakes my out of my trance again.

"I won't," I say, putting on another smile. "I eat healthy and alright. I'll be fine."

She nods, but her face is still full of worry and she leans closer. "Rose, again, there's a reason I quit and a reason Thomas's accident happened."

Thomas's freaking accident. "He keeps saying that and so do you but I don't even know the real reason you quit or what injuries he even got. I want answers, Tes."

She runs a hand down her hand, sighing. "I understand, really. But... but I promised Thomas not to tell anyone about anything. Has he mentioned anything?"

"Something about a company," I reply.

"Yes, alright." She nods again. "Thomas discovered things he wasn't supposed to and that's why the accident happened. That's all I'm going to say."

I bury my head in my hands. "Every time I speak about Janson or how he says I'm going to be his next star, Thomas's mood changes completely, Teresa. I don't understand him."

An exhale escapes her lips. Then, she lowers her voice. "He bursts out about the star things because it's exactly what Janson told him. And also me. You can't become his star either, Rose."

And what if I want to? Need to?

But I don't say that, because I don't want more arguments.

"Thomas doesn't dance. Did he use to? Is that why he knows Janson?"

"No." Teresa rubs her forehead. "Janson's not just a ballet teacher. Like a PE teacher, he wants to coach everyone. But he doesn't have enough time for it so only trains the few very good ones."

"So Thomas was one of those? And he just gives us casual lessons?"

"Yes and yes. I believe he's going for a boy named Gally at rugby. He's damn good."

"What will happen if he becomes a star, then?" I move even closer, so damn curious. Right now, Teresa is about to tell me about things I've wanted to know for a while, and it's scary but helping.

"He'll be one," she says. "As long as he can take it."

I frown. "What?"

"Travels around the world? Dozens of shows or games?" Teresa shakes her head. "Yes, but when it's twenty four seven, you'll only last for a while, then be ruined. And then—" she stops abruptly.

"What?" I repeat, breathing the words with curiosity instead of confusion now.

"I've already said too much." She looks down while getting up. "I'm sorry. Please don't tell Thomas I did. He doesn't want to worry you too much. Just... forget everything I said."

"But—"

"Just be safe. Don't become his star. Dance for The Nutcracker, then just don't interfere too much with Janson. And don't take his advices."

I've already done it, and I don't regret doing so.

But I don't say that. "Fine. I won't tell Thomas either."

I will try to get more information out of him.

I sense Teresa relaxing. She seems less stressed already. "Okay. Awesome. I've got to go now. Got classes to take. Text me!"

"I will." My excitement returns as fast as light, then fades when I'm all alone again. That's what usually happens.

❤︎︎

Aris doesn't groan when lifting me up this time, so I'm very happy for that. But it's only the fact his ankle has healed. When I weighed myself this morning, just two pounds were off. It's something, but not enough.

My muscles are having trouble today. It must be because I haven't eaten anything before ballet. Not one hour, not four hours, not twelve hours.

I forgot, alright? Teresa showed up and I didn't have time to eat before ballet since she left half an hour before.

Okay, I could've made some time to eat but I didn't.

"Leg has to be higher, Rosalind."

I get the call and raise my leg the highest as I can, but not asking anyone to stretch me in a few weeks was the wrong decision.

"I didn't stretch well enough, sir." I sigh as I stand on two feet again.

Janson stares at me for a few seconds. His arms are crossed, eyes inspecting me. "Alright," he eventually says. "I'll call Sarah to do it."

I scoff to myself. Maybe he's a bad teacher or has bad intentions, but at least he's respectful. I can't remember him ever giving me any other touch than a hand shake or a simple hand on my shoulder.

Sarah stretches me perfectly. She doesn't speak much, but I could see in her eyes that her smiles were real, so it's great.

My stomach is hollow, though. It grumbles and hurts, but I can live with it. Just five and a half more days. Then, I'll eat more to keep the weight I have then. No more, no less, like Janson said.

"There she is." Thomas rolls the window open before I enter his car. "Didn't forget this time, huh?"

I nudge him in the arm. "That was a one time thing. My apologies, again."

He smiles, his eyes lighting up. I catch myself admiring it more than I should have, then stare at the road in front of us. "What's up?"

"Not much." Thomas shrugs. "How was ballet?"

"Awesome," I reply. "They said I did well and Aris was nice. He's strong."

We're suddenly driving faster and I don't enjoy it at all. "Cool," Thomas replies, but there's not a lot of enthusiasm in his voice until his next question. "We're still going to the fair, right?"

I nod, hard. "Of course! I'm so excited, by the way. What's your favorite thing at the fair?"

He chuckles under his breath. "The bumper cars."

I think I should've expected that. "And I'm guessing you make up tactics to beat all the poor little kids?"

He hums. "Tactics, yes. But I don't hurt little kids."

"How cute of you."

"...unless they touch my bump car," he adds, grinning innocently. "But I'm still very sweet."

"I'm sure you are." My hand touches his arm as I readjust my position and three seconds later, my whole face is bright red, my stomach exploding from something that for sure is not hunger.

"What's your favorite?"

It's Disco Pang Pang, a ride I've only been in one time because barely any fair has it.

But I don't tell Thomas that, because it'll be very embarrassing to go in that one with him.

Usually because the operator likes to play Cupid and you end up on the other side of the ride.

It's a round kind of box that you sit in. No seatbelts. Just a railing you can hold onto, which makes you able to freaking fall on top of someone.

I like it so much because it was funny watching Newt struggle once the operator shipped him with someone and he tried to explain he didn't fall for girls, but that didn't work (the girl did understand so she respected it, although it didn't stop the operator from making them fall on top of each other, so Newt tried to be a gentleman except it didn't work).

I can write pages full about that experience, but I won't.

"It's the Fun Slide," I say. It really is my second favorite. Lame, maybe. But I like it.

Thomas gives me a glare with the same grin he often wears. "I could've predicted that."

My nose scrunches along with my eyebrows. "Why?"

"It fits you," he says. "You seem like someone who'd laugh super loud when sliding down those bumps."

He's right about that.

My smile grows. Soon, I'll have to go get a massage so my cheekbones can relax because they've been struggling since I met Thomas.

When we arrive, Thomas holds up his hand. "Don't move!" He warns.

I watch him run around the car in a weird, sort of hopping way and then he opens the door for me.

I can't hold back the audible laugh as I step out. "Such a gentleman, Lady Glitter Pie."

"Mister Glitter Pie." He bows, taking my hand. It makes me giggle, and my cheeks turn red from embarrassment because I certainly don't enjoy the sound. Yet Thomas smiles. That'll do it for me.

"Let's go." His fingers are still intertwined with mine while we walk inside. I don't mind at all. In fact, butterflies are exploding everywhere because his skin is so soft but somehow rough and the way he's gripping my hand as the size difference joins is so... bloody hell.

"Lucaaa!" His louder mood makes its way in the kitchen. "What do you have in store for us today? Spaghetti? Pizza? Lasagna? Risotto? Arancini?"

"Whatever you want." Luca looks up from the pan. "We have enough."

I swallow away the thick piece of worry. I don't want to ruin work in the first minutes because of food.

Thomas looks at me, smiling. "What would ya like, Blondie?"

I shrug. An unwanted shiver runs down my spine. "I... well, I'm not very hungry. But you may take whatever you want."

He stiffens beside me. Lowering his voice next to my ear, "Rose, it was two and a half hours ago when you started ballet today, and you eat four hours before it. Meaning, you haven't eaten in at least six and a half hours." And he looks back up. "Two lasagna, Luca. One portion smaller, though." His eyes are on me again. "How much do you want?"

I shrug, my eyes wider. Shame comes with me as I stare into his, almost desperate, eyes. "Not too much," I mutter.

"One portion smaller," Thomas repeats to Luca, speaking louder again since he's no longer speaking to me individually. "Perfect. Thank you!"

I actually don't feel that bad or guilty right now. Neither for breaking my diet or telling Thomas I don't want to eat much.

Only because he's so... decent about it? Mature? I don't know, I just like how he goes with it.

"Here?" Thomas points at the room I've decided to call Random Cowshed. AKA, the one where all the random crap lies, like the trays and our aprons. "Or somewhere more crowded?"

"Here is fine," I say, appreciating his question by smiling widely. We sit down in Random Cowshed, literally in front of each other with two plastic chairs and I take a careful bite off the lasagna.

It tastes bloody awesome, but I don't allow myself to dive into it like I did last time.

"What changed?" He asks.

I look up, vaguely confused though I know what he means. But still, "Huh?"

"Who made you this unsure about food?" His eyes include that thing again.

The same thing as when I mention Aris. The same thing as when I got home late and the exact same thing that was spread all over his face when I said I was at Janson's.

I can't deny I'm thinking it might be protectiveness.

After all, I've learned that Newt would indeed kill someone if Sonya or I gets hurt. And Thomas is Newt's, maybe best, friend, and Newt knows I'm around Thomas a lot.

Though... never mind. It's only because I'm Newt's sister. Thomas prefers not to get killed.

"Me," I say. It's half of the truth. "I started a diet because I felt like I needed to be healthier for the play."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, really?" And he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and hands holding each other.

I lean forward too, elbows also on my own knees, but palms under my chin.

Man, I shouldn't have. Our faces are like inches away from each other and his hot breaths blowing against my face are making me feel things I'm not supposed to feel.

"Really," I say, my voice quieter.

He's also murmuring. It's making my legs weak. The way he tries to whisper but the rougher voice breaks through... "And what does that diet include?"

My eyes trail to his lips automatically. Three seconds later, they're meeting his eyes again. I can't feel bad about the conversation topic at all. I barely can think about what he really just asked.

My breaths heave, causing me to mutter, too. "I don't think that's much of your business."

His fingertips slide over my bare knee for a second, and I'm hypnotized by it. Just that makes me wish he'd lay his full hand on there.

Or on my thigh.

I'd die, though.

"Oh, no?" His hand doesn't linger long around my skin. "Sad to hear I'm not on that diet, then."

I want to scoff at the cheesy joke, but I can't.

"I never said that," I reply. The urge to scoot closer is big, but I don't. We're already so close I can perfectly inspect every single sprinkle of color in his eyes.

His lips curve up into another familiar smirk. "Good to know."

I'm about to say something— I'm not sure what, because my mouth is just moving for itself by now, but I can't seem to finish anyway since there's a yell.

"Tommaso, Rosetta! You don't need this long to finish dinner. There's guests!"