Page 12 of Pages of Amber

CHAPTER FOUR

SHE STARED BLANKLY OUT her window, eyes stinging. Her hands sat in her lap, her knuckles aching from the tight hold they had on each other.

They were angry with her.Of course they were.

Neither of them had said a word. They had gotten into Beverly’s car and drove out of the lot like they couldn’t wait to get away from her.

Amber had chosen. She had chosen wrong. She could only imagine what they thought of her. She had put them aside when they had stuck up for her. She had been summoned and like a moth to a flame, she could do nothing but follow. Even when doing so left her wounded. The car rolled to a stop, pulling Amber out of her thoughts. The ominous pause tugged her chest lower into her stomach. She remained unmoving as Nigel rounded the vehicle and pulled open the door.

“Amber?”His weathered voice was hesitant, soft. He had left her to her thoughts for the whole ride here when usually they bantered or made small talk during their drives. He probably felt guilty for causing her trouble.

She felt bad for putting him in a tight spot with her friends. He was simply doing his job and she couldn’t fault him for that. She wouldn’t have forgiven herself if her actions had cost Nigel his job, but it was difficult to swallow that she had ditched her friends. Amber pushed out a smile to ease him, though she was sure it was dull and drew herself out of the car. She squeezed his arm in thanks then watched Nigel walk around to the front to take the car into the side garage. At this point she was only stalling for time.

It was sad to admit she didn’t want to walk into her own house. The house before Amber held no appeal, its walls bare of comfort, its corridors devoid of laughter or framed memories. The two story home had been a lovely purchase. Amber liked it because it had a garden and was a roof over her head. Her mom liked it for its modern aesthetic and because it held no memories of her father. It was a clean slate for both of them.

Amber punched in the code for the front door and stepped in. Her shoes echoed against the polished porcelain tile in the foyer, emphasizing the emptiness of the space despite the chaise and artworks. She paused to pull off her jacket and boots, the smooth tile sending a chill through her socked feet as she continued through the house. Underneath the archway, she paused at the low voices coming from the living room. Recognizing her mom’s, Amber debated her next route. Was she ready to face her mother? A second voice drifted through the air, answering to her mom. Nigel had said she was with a guest but Amber hadn’t known anyone would be coming.

“No need to eavesdrop, Amber. Come in.”

Amber jumped at her mom’s voice. Shutting her eyes for a quick prayer, she entered the living room. Her gaze landed first on her mom seated in the armchair across the room. The ends of her hair framed her strong chin, her eyes bright in the afternoon light streaming in from the large wall of windows to her left. Her mom wore a blue power suit today, paired with black red bottoms that matched the deep red of her lips. A stunning neckpiece graced her neck, drawing the eye to its slender curve. Amber was thankful for genes. She wanted to look as effortlessly beautiful as her mother did in her late forties.

“Hi, mom.”

Mallory hummed in response to Amber, sweeping an eye down her frame. She held herself still as her mother leaned over to pick a teacup and saucer from the center table.

“How was school?”

“Good,”she said.“You asked Nigel to pick me up?”

“I did.” Her mother met her eyes. Blue on blue. It was subtle but Amber could feel the challenge behind that look. She tried to ignore the gleam that shone through.“I assumed you’d like to meet our important guest,”her mom finished.

The woman seated on the sofa opposite her mom was the Director of the Fleur Elysian Ballet Theatre, a prestigious woman who had once danced under the same company as her mother and who now modeled prominent dancers under her instruction. Helena Meusall’s petite features turned up into a small smile. For all the years Amber had known her, that was the most expressive the woman had been.

“Hello, Amber. It’s good to see you,”she spoke, her voice even and calm, rippling with strength. Amber smiled back. Despite Director Meusall’s reserved nature, she had always been kind to Amber and was a good teacher who supported her and her dancing. Many of Amber’s performances had been choreographed or taught to her by Director Meusall despite her busy schedule as the head of an outstanding ballet company.

“Hello, Director Meusall. It’s been a while. How are the twins?”

“Good, thank you. They are still looking to drive me crazy.”The fondness in her accented tone widened Amber’s smile. The Director’s twins were adorable but could cause trouble like it was their jobs. Everyone at the theatre loved it when they came around.

“We’re all caught up then," her mother cut in. She turned to her daughter. “Amber, go change into a practice outfit. Wear one of your longer skirts. Helena would like to see you in the ballet studio.”

There was an edge to her mother’s voice that made her pause. When neither woman spoke, Amber clutched her things and exited the room. Upstairs, she collapsed onto her bed. Her heavy sigh filled the bedroom, hovering in the silence for a second. Her thoughts ran to her friends and her mood dipped again.

Had they gone toRiong’s?Were they enjoying themselves without her? How mad would they be when she faced them tomorrow? How would she face them?

Amber shook herself before her thoughts went too far. She ran a hand through her hair and stood. She could wallow in her guilt later. For now, her mother had given her an order. She needed to focus.

Dance steps and positions flitted through her mind as she changed. Amber pulled her earrings out and twisted her hair into a low bun, her hands well versed in the movement. Opening a drawer in her closet, she picked out a pair of pointe shoes, noticing that they were getting a bit worn out. She would need to break in a new pair soon. The thought pulled a groan from her. That would be a pain on her toes for a while. As she tied the ribbons, she wondered what Director Meusall’s visit was about. She and Amber’s mom may have been two of the best ballerinas under their company but they were barely friends. Her mom sometimes dropped by the theatre to watch her practices with the class or privately with the Director but they hardly spoke all those times. In fact, Amber had witnessed only a handful of their conversations and it always revolved around the theatre, an upcoming performance or her.

Her mother had mentioned Director Meusall wanted to see her in the studio which meant she would be dancing a few variations. Maybe the Director wanted to check on whether she had kept up well with her lessons. After the outcome of the competition, Amber needed to prove she was at her best.

She made to cross the room when her gaze caught on her reflection in the full length mirror. Before her was a girl with eyes of ice and pale hair, the pink skirt over her leotard and leggings framing a slim figure honed by years of dancing. She looked into the blues reflecting at her. Her father had once said her eyes were the best part of her because whenever he looked at her, he saw her mother. His two greatest treasures. Would he be happy now if he saw how empty they were, sitting in her face?

Amber turned away, shutting out the echo in her chest and headed for the ballet studio. Her mom had gotten it done to continue her practices even while she was home. The floor was vinyl hardwood and allowed Amber to glide effortlessly across the room and perform jumps without fear of slipping. At one end, a barre extended from one wall to the other. Adjacent to it was a full wall of mirrors, built in speakers and two armchairs.

Amber had opened up the windows, set up the speakers and done her stretches when her mom and Director Meusall walked in. Her mom took a seat while the Director remained standing, her eyes on Amber.

“Let’s begin with the barre.”

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