Chapter Eighteen

            Moet’s gotten a new pair of pointe shoes today. She’s halfway done preparing them when Leighton pulls up to the dance studio and looks over.


            “Do they hurt?” He asks.


            “Yes, very much.” Moet replies honestly. She’s cuts off the satin on the toe part and sews the fabric on the edges back onto the shoe.


            “Then how do you keep dancing?”


            Moet shrugs. Finished with the sewing, she takes out a lighter and starts lightly burning the ends of the ribbons so they didn’t fray. “The pain never really goes away…” she muses. “You just get used to it, I guess.” Grabbing her newly prepared pointe shoes, she gives Leighton a kiss on the cheek before heading out of the car. “See you in a few hours.”


            “Yeah.” Leighton smiles but there’s a hint of sadness in it. She guesses he had noticed her lack of appetite at lunch today. As he drives off, Moet hurries into the studio, checking her watch. She still has two minutes until class starts.


            “Hi, Moet,” Sally calls from the barre.


            Moet waves back to the sweet-faced girl with hair the color of straw. She hurriedly takes off her jacket and puts on her pointe shoes. Settling at her place at the barre, she starts into her warm-ups for the rest of the time.


            “Hello, class.” Lily Holmes greets, her ice-queen demeanor immediately lowering the temperature of the room about two degrees. “Let’s start on our tendus, degages, and battements.”


            As the lesson goes on, Moet starts to feel slightly dizzy. Shaking it off, she continues. However, when it was time to practice a combination that involved jetes and attitude turns, black spots started forming in her vision.


            “Moet, are you alright?” Sally’s muffled voice sounds in Moet’s ears. Everything’s blurry. “Moet? Moet!


            And then the world shuts down.


            Four hours later when Leighton comes to pick Moet up, she’s nowhere to be seen. Stepping into the lobby of the dance studio, he spies a middle-aged woman receptionist sitting behind the desk and a sweet-faced dancer with hair the color of straw stepping out of the room within.


            “Excuse me, is anyone else in there?” Leighton asks her.


            Startled, the dancer looks up and shakes her head. “Everyone else left.”


            Something wasn’t right. “Do you know Moet?” He asks.


            “Oh. Yes. Yes, I do,” Her expression becomes worried. “She fainted during class. I think Mrs. Holmes took her to the hospital. Poor girl. She looked miserable.”


            He knew it. He knew this was going to happen. “Thank you.” Turning around, he heads for his car.


            What has she done to herself?


            Moet wakes up in a pastel-green walled room. Looking to her right, she sees an IV attached to the inside of her right wrist. Slowly turning to her left, she starts at the sight of Leighton sitting by her side, jaw clenched and lips pressed together in a tight line.


            “You need help, Moet.” Leighton says, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His intelligent gray eyes peered beyond his glasses into Moet’s big, round hazel ones.


            Moet wasn’t stupid. “I know.” She whispers. Her throat feels dry. Leighton hands her a glass of water that was resting on the end table beside her. “Thank you.”


            “Moet, I know you’re really caught up in this situation with your sister, but I think you should take a break and help yourself for once.” Leighton says.


            “No!” Moet sits upright, but the sudden motion makes her feel slightly dizzy and she can feel Leighton’s hands guiding her back to her previous prone position. “I can’t, Leighton. I have to find her. She told me to. I can’t let her down.”


            “You’re going to die if you continue this any longer and I don’t want to watch you die.” Leighton’s face is inches away from Moet’s. Their foreheads are almost touching, their breaths barely mingling. Holding her gaze, he says in a low voice, “I actually love you, Moet. It’s hard for me to say since I don’t exactly believe in it, but for some reason, it feels right when I say it.”


            Moet wants to smile and cry at the same time. She doesn’t deserve him. She’s always known that. One day, he’d break up with her and go find some smart girl that wasn’t obsessed with things that weren’t real, that didn’t have so many problems and wasn’t so troublesome. Too bad it’d all end starting now, she thought. Closing her eyes, she reluctantly says, “If you loved me, you’d let me do this.”


            The moment Leighton’s hands stopped being in contact with hers, she felt the distance starting to grow between them. “That’s not fair, Moet, and you know it.”


            “You keep saying it. Prove it.” She’s so terrible for doing this. But there was no other option. She can’t let Dakota down.


            Scanning her face, he sits back and stiffly says, “Fine.” The icy silence in between them gnaws at Moet’s heart. It’s alright, she tells herself. It was bound to happen sooner or later. No matter how many times she repeats the words, it didn’t soothe the ache in her chest.


            Dr. Seki comes back a while later. “So, Moet. It seems that you’ve been starving yourself.”


            An icy chill shoots down her spine before she hears Leighton fake an easy-going laugh. “I keep telling her to wake up earlier and eat some breakfast, but she just won’t listen to me. She won’t get out of bed to save her life.”


            Dr. Seki raises an eyebrow. “Right. Well, Moet, I can’t send you anywhere without you and your parents consent and it’s quite evident that I’m not going to be able to obtain either at this point. All I can do now is release you and hope that you regain your blood sugar levels.”


            “I will,” Moet lies with a fake smile.


            “Right,” Dr. Seki says. Sighing, she turns to Moet and tells her quietly so Leighton can’t hear, “I don’t think you realize how anorexia doesn’t just ruin you, it ruins the people around you too.” The doctor’s eyes flicker towards Leighton and back to Moet in a not-so-subtle gesture. Leighton seemed to be paying no attention, though. He was doing that thing where he stared into space and you could just tell his brain was in a higher level of thinking that normal people couldn’t comprehend. That Moet couldn’t comprehend. That Moet could never match up to. “I really hope you come to your senses. I only talked to your mother for two minutes and already I know she’s got some part in this. You’re a strong girl, Moet. Think of yourself for a change.”


            “You don’t even know me,” Moet whispers.


            Dr. Seki shrugs. “I’m good at reading people.” Straightening, she announces, “Alright, you’re free to go. Your mother’s waiting right outside. I’ll have your nurse get you ready.”


            “Thank you,” Moet says quietly. She looks over to Leighton. He’s still staring in front of him. This time his lips were drawn taut and his posture was stiff.


            The nurse readies takes out her IV, makes sure her levels are as good as they possibly could be, and helps her up. They walk out of the room, coming into contact with her parents. Lily looks the same. Eyes as cold as ice, back ramrod straight, and burning rage simmering just beyond her controlled demeanor. Her father looks the same too: worry lines marred his forehead making him look permanently confused. Moet ignores them. Leighton walks beside her.


            When they’re outside, Moet turns to say good-bye, but Leighton leads her somewhere out of earshot of her parents.


            “Everyone’s telling me that I don’t understand. And they’re right. I might never understand why people do the things to do, and that’s fine. It’s none of my business. But I really don’t understand why you would destroy your life without a second thought and not take a moment to look back at the people you’re bringing down with you. I care, alright? I don’t know when I started caring or why, but if you’re just so hell-bent on killing yourself, don’t expect me to stand there and watch. I would do anything for you and you know it, but I can’t do this.”


            And just like that, he’s gone.

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