Page 56 of Healing Eleanor

“Well,” Nik says, raising an eyebrow, “maybe you can have your mom bake him something as an apology for, you know, being in the way.”

Lily lets out a puff of air. “I guess I could.”

Nik shakes his head, and starts reviewing a small stack of papers clipped to his clipboard.

“Nik, before I forget—will Irina be here today?” Lily asks, stretching at one of the freestanding barres.

At that, Nik’s entire demeanor shifts. The fun, relaxed expression he’s been wearing vanishes, replaced by something more guarded. Whoever Irina is, she clearly means something to him.

“She’ll be here this morning,” he says, his voice more subdued. “After class, I’m taking her to a doctor’s appointment. Did you need to see her? I can text—”

“No, that’s okay,” Lily says softly, her smile softening into a frown. “I’ll catch her during break. I just have a leotard that’s starting to come apart at the shoulder. No big deal.” She pauses, then adds more quietly, “Do you want me to grab you guys lunch later? After her appointment?”

Nik nods, grateful. “That’d be great. Thanks, Lily.”

The name Irina echoes in my head, heavier than it has any right to be. Maybe she’s his girlfriend. Or maybe more. My stomach twists. An unwelcome twinge of jealousy flares in my chest.

Why? I barely know him. I have no reason to feel this way. And yet, I can’t lie to myself. A small, foolish part of me has enjoyed being the sole focus of his attention just a minute ago.

As they continue talking about Irina, a few more dancers trickle into the studio. Some cast curious glances my way, while others dive straight into stretching. To avoid getting in the way, I step toward a corner near the wall-mounted barre and quietly observe.

A few girls offer a polite hello as they pass, though most of the guys cluster into a loose circle, already deep in conversation.

With just a few minutes left before class begins, two men enter the room. The first is tall, with closely cropped, curly dirty-blond hair and sharp blue eyes. The man beside him has dark brown hair, piercing green eyes, and unmistakable burn scars trailing along his forearms, jaw, and ear.

The two men make their way toward Nik and Lily, still gathered near the podium. All four exchange hugs and back slaps like old friends, laughing easily. I watch from the corner, wondering if they’ve all known each other since childhood.

Once they finish exchanging hellos, the two men flank Lily on either side and start walking straight toward me. I stiffen instinctively, though hopefully not noticeably. I’m sure they’re nice, but the idea of adding more ‘friendships’ into my life feels… unsettling.

“Eleanor,” Lily says, beaming in my direction. She stops in front of me and gestures to the blond guy first. “This is Gabriel Fields,” she says, then motions to the man with dark brown hair. “And this is Dillon Pendry.”

They each offer a hand, friendly smiles on their faces. “Nice to meet you,” they say almost in unison.

I shake their hands politely. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“These two bozos are basically my best friends here,” Lily grins. “And since you’re my new friend, they’re a package deal. Non-negotiable.”

I let out a small laugh, even though my insides flutter nervously. Lily’s coming in fast and strong with the whole friendship thing, but at least she seems sincere. And something about the way Gabriel and Dillon stand there, warm and unassuming, makes it harder to retreat behind my usual wall.

Still, I keep my smile small, cautious. One step at a time.

“Welcome to Hollingford,” Dillon says with a watered-down Irish accent. “Hopefully it’s been suitable for you.”

I tilt my head slightly. “It’s been… interesting, to say the least.” I offer a half-hearted shrug.

Gabriel rests a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he says with an encouraging smile. “You’ll warm up to it soon enough.”

At the front of the room, Nik claps his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. In an instant, the playful man I was bantering with vanishes and is replaced by someone sharp, focused, and commanding. The room quiets around him as if on instinct.

Nik waits until the last whisper fades before speaking. His voice is clear, steady, and carries a quiet, serene authority. “Good morning, everyone.”

A chorus of good morning rises in response.

“I hope you’ve all had a restful summer break, but now it’s crunch time. Today we’re welcoming three new dancers to the company class.” His eyes scan the small crowd before locking onto mine, motioning to me. “This is Eleanor Montgomery. She’s here from the Metropolitan Theatre of Ballet. Give her space to settle in, but be kind.”

A few dancers turn to glance at me again. I gave a tight smile and shift my weight. I never got an introduction at the Metropolitan. It feels like first grade all over again—having to stand up, say your name, age, and your favorite thing you did that summer.

Nik lifts his chin toward two girls standing near the back—one with tight curls and olive skin, the other tall and willowy with porcelain features. “We’re also joined by Paloma Torres and Emi Harada, who are here from our school, Hollingford Academy of Ballet. Please, let’s make them feel welcome.”