Page 18 of Healing Eleanor

Now, that lie follows me everywhere. Every email, every audition request, it’s like my name carries a stain no one wants to see.

The company that just rejected me isn’t even that prestigious. Which somehow hurts worse. They hire dancers who are torn apart by critics, girls who return after devastating injuries, but somehow I’m untouchable. Not because I lack talent, but because of a rumor I can’t erase.

I slump forward, defeated. It’s like my entire career has been rewritten by someone else’s story.

If there’s any chance of finding a company now, it will have to be outside the city limits. I don’t mind the idea of leaving Manhattan, but I know that it means smaller, lesser known companies that are often struggling to stay afloat. Most of them shut down within a few years of opening. Joining one is a risk.

But what other choice do I have? I’ve already been rejected everywhere else.

If I’m thinner… maybe I’ll be someone worth keeping. Maybe I won’t feel so visible in all the wrong ways. I won’t be stuck at some little desk job or forced to smile through a shift as a twirling barista. I’ll be doing what I’m meant to do. Dance.

It’ll just be a few pounds. Then they’ll see. Then they’ll be sorry.

JULY

I grip the barre so tightly my knuckles turn white. I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to breathe. In for four, out for four. My chest rises and falls in a slow, deliberate rhythm as I fight to keep the nausea at bay. Bile burns the back of my throat, and I clench my jaw to swallow it. Sweat trickles along my temples, and I welcome the distraction. It gives me something else to focus on besides the spinning room.

“Eleanor, are you alright?” Adrian asks, his soft voice laced with concern. He places a steady hand in the middle of my back, grounding my swaying frame.

“I’ll be okay when this room stops spinning,” I murmur, cracking open one eye to meet his hazel gaze. “Thanks, Adrian.”

He nods and pulls his hand away, heading toward the back of the studio. He digs through his bag for a few minutes before turning around with a water bottle and a protein bar.

“Here,” he says, handing me the water first. “We did a lot of cardio and breathwork today. You need to refuel.”

I take it, mutter a quiet thanks, and drink it down to the last drop. My eyes drift to the bar still in his outstretched hand.

“Eat this, too, especially if you’re staying for my next class.” He presses the bar into my palm with a wink, already moving to set up for balance and foot articulation.

I stare at the bar in my hand. If I eat this, I’ll go over my allotted calories for the day. Barely, but enough to ruin my weigh-in later. I glance down at my legs, still shaky, but still standing. It doesn’t matter how many of these classes I take, the weight is still coming off too slowly. I can’t risk undoing even a fraction of the progress I’ve made today.

I take a steady breath and walk over to Adrian, who’s hunched by the stereo, scrolling through his phone, probably searching for a playlist. He looks up and smiles when he hears me approach.

“Staying for my next class?” he asks before his eyes dart to the bar still in my hand. “If you do, I’d definitely eat that. You know I don’t hold back.”

“Oh, I know.” I force out a small laugh. “Actually, I think I’m going to head home. I have dinner waiting, and I’ve been looking forward to it all day. I don’t want to spoil myself,” I lie, handing him the protein bar. Mixed greens, cucumber, egg whites, and steamed zucchini aren’t exactly thrilling, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He grabs the bar, unfazed. “If you’re sure.” He rips it open and takes a bite. “Are you coming tomorrow? Or are you doing Vesti’s class?”

“Probably both,” I say with a shrug. “I have to be in shape for the fall season.” If a company even chooses me at this point.

He nods, still chewing. “Have you found a new company yet?”

His question stings, and I scowl involuntarily.

“No,” I say bitterly. I’ve sent applications to every company within the outskirts of the city. So far, I’ve received nothing but rejection. I cling to the hope that their silence might still mean hope and that Soren hasn’t completely ruined all of my chances.

Maybe it’s your weight, a voice whispers in the back of my mind.

His expression softens. “You’ll find a place, Eleanor. Just keep putting yourself out there. You’re doing the work. Keep pushing.”

I give him a tight smile. “Definitely. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wave goodbye and walk out of the studio, the uneaten calories of the protein bar lingering in my hand and my mind.

I head toward the dressing rooms and toss my things into my dance bag. Normally, I’d shower after my sessions, but tonight I’m too wiped to bother.

Outside, a crack of thunder splits the sky as I pull my phone from my pocket. I quickly call a cab, hoping the rain will hold off for just fifteen more minutes, long enough to get home dry.

I wait inside the gym’s front doors, watching the clouds darken by the second. Thankfully, the cab arrives five minutes later, and I dart into the back seat like it’s my own personal lifeboat.