Page 169 of Redeemed

“Yeah. I mean, I still had to go to rehearsals or I would’ve gotten recast, so I just marked everything.”

“And you stayed off pointe?”

Rora rolls her eyes. “Obviously. I have no desire to make the injury worse, Luc. I won’t be able to perform at all that way.”

“What’s this? Aurora Wilson admitting that sometimes, she has to take it easy on her body? Shit, get a reporter in here. This is headline-worthy.”

“Oh, shut up,” she mutters.

“I’m serious. I don’t think those words have ever left your mouth before.”

“I don’t have to when you tell me every time you see me.”

Ouch.

I clear my throat. “You never told me what roles you got cast in the Nutcracker.”

Aurora takes a long, quiet sip of her drink. Back when we were kids, we used to have contests to see which of us could slurp our hot chocolate the loudest. Now, she’s as quiet as a mouse.

“For the first act, I got toy soldier again,andsnow,” she says, sighing. “That’s gonna be one hell of a quick change.”

“Second act?”

“Flowers, marzipan, and…” Aurora glances away, eyes glassy. “Sugar Plum understudy.”

Reaching across the table, I squeeze her arm. “I’m sorry, Rora.”

“It’s fine.” She sniffles, and I watch as she tucks her real self away. When she meets my gaze again, she’s sitting straight, her head held high. “I’ll get it next year. I’m going to put my all into these roles, especially the understudy one. Same with my classes. And then hopefully the artistic director will notice my dedication and cast me next year.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”

“I can handle it.”

With a disapproving hum, I lean back in my chair. I don’t like this—not one bit.

Obviously uncomfortable with my lack of response, Aurora squirms in her seat. “I mean, she gave me the understudy role, and that’s gotta mean something, right? If she thinks I can perform it if something happens, then I have a chance for next year. Maybe this is just, like… extra training.”

“Does that happen a lot?” I ask. “An understudy getting the real role the next year?”

“Sometimes. And in this case, I’m going to make sure it happens.”

“Rora…”

“Don’t,” she whispers. “Please don’t. This is my last chance, Lucas. I’m not good enough to be anything but corps in the real world. A demi-soloist at best,maybe.But never good enough to be the Sugar Plum Fairy.”

“That’s not true,” I bite out.

“You don’t get it.” Tears fill her eyes. “You’ve never seen a professional ballet performance. They have this extra grace that I just don’t. And their technique… god, Lucas. I can’t beat that. But I can here.”

She’s wrong. Iknowshe is, and it’s not just because I’m her older brother. I’ve heard her teachers compliment her. This past year, she made it into an elite summer intensive program. I was the one who picked her up, and the instructors there fawned over her. One of them told me she had the potential to become a principal dancer.

When I told Aurora that, she refused to believe me. In her eyes, she’ll never be enough, even if she’s the best.

I rub my face. She’s already a year ahead in school. It’s why she felt comfortable taking the college route for ballet instead of jumping straight into an apprenticeship. She’s sacrificing a couple years that she could be at a company, but she said she wanted the extra time to develop her technique. Something about starting later in her childhood and being behind.

“You put a lot of pressure on yourself,” Aurora challenges, and she starts counting off things on her fingers. “School, Xander, football, the Rooks, trying to take care of me and Mom even though you don’t have to anymore, working out—”

“All right, all right, I get it. Jesus.”

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