Part 1My Boyfriend Sabotaged My Final Dance

One minute before we were due in the holding area, my boyfriend and dance partner, Asher Penrose, who'd been holding both our documents, handed in only his own competitor badge.

When it was my turn, he stood there empty-handed and said as if it were perfectly reasonable, "I didn't bring your competitor badge or your state ID. Withdraw from the final and give your spot to Mallory."

I stood frozen. I never imagined he'd sabotage my final for Mallory.

Mallory Keene was the understudy in our company. For all three years I'd been there, my scores and technique had consistently ranked above hers.

I stared at the man I'd loved for three years, so angry I laughed. Then I turned and walked away.

Behind me, Asher shouted in exasperation, "Your fundamentals are so strong. What's wrong with competing next year?

"If you withdraw on a whim now, what is everyone going to think about Mallory? Do you really want the whole company assuming she forced you out?"

I didn't even turn around.

Withdraw on a whim? He had no idea.

Two weeks earlier, I'd already earned a direct placement in the American National Ballet's Principal Artist Development Track.

I'd only entered today's competition to go through the motions with him, for the sake of our three years as partners and as a couple.

If he didn't want that anymore, fine.

Our relationship could end here too.

* * *

I didn't go straight home.

If I showed up this early, Mom and Dad would immediately ask why I'd left the competition so early.

And if Dad found out Asher Penrose had deliberately kept my competitor badge and state ID from me outside the theater, he would drive straight to the Penrose house and demand an explanation.

I didn't need the drama.

Besides, I had already secured a direct placement in the American National Ballet's Principal Artist Development Track. Today's competition had only ever been a formality for me.

If Asher was willing to throw away three years together just to clear the path for Mallory Keene, then at least he'd done me one favor.

He'd shown me exactly what kind of man he was.

I crossed the street and went into a coffee shop opposite the theater. I figured I'd sit there until the competition was over, then go home and pretend I'd finished normally.

About fifteen minutes before the final awards, two familiar figures came through the theater doors.

Asher and Mallory.

They were holding hands.

Both of them looked relaxed.

Reporters waiting outside immediately rushed forward with microphones.

"You two look pretty confident. Happy with how you danced today? Any companies you're hoping to sign with?"

Asher turned toward Mallory.

His eyes were so soft they practically melted.

"We both danced well. We've already talked about it. We want to sign with Metro Dance Theatre together."

Mallory blushed and nodded, leaning toward him like she belonged there.

I chewed on my straw and watched the perfect couple on the TV screen. A strange, heavy sadness crept over me.

Three years.

Asher had been my boyfriend and my dance partner for three years. We'd spent nearly every day of those years together.

Even after he started getting close to Mallory, who was technically the understudy, I kept telling myself that what Asher and I had was different.

My first year in the company, a few dancers got jealous because Asher had been assigned as my partner.

They started spreading rumors that I was obsessed with him, that I had chased him shamelessly, that I had come between him and Mallory.

When Asher heard about it, he kicked over a rehearsal table in front of the whole company.

He pointed at the girls who had started the rumors and shouted, "Elena is my girlfriend. If any of you lie about her again, you'll answer to me."

Back then, I thought that meant I mattered.

Now?

Maybe it had only been part of the image he liked to sell—loyal, protective, devoted.

The bell over the coffee shop door chimed.

I looked up.

The interview was over. Asher had walked in with Mallory, and his eyes landed directly on me.

He paused.

Then his mouth curled into a mocking smile.

"I thought you'd go home crying to your parents after missing the final.

"So this is where you're hiding? Too scared to go home and explain yourself?"

Mallory gently tugged at his sleeve.

"Asher, don't say that. Elena must already feel awful."

I looked at the two of them running their little double act and suddenly felt nauseated.

"Awful?"

I leaned back in my chair and looked Asher straight in the eye.

"Why would I feel awful over people like you?"