Lillian enjoyed dancing, and she was good at it, but she didn’t love it the way her mother had when she was a young rising star. She had her mother’s talent but wondered if she had enough heart.
Losing herself in the ancient past, Lillian relished every moment of her last class of the day. The one time it was easy to push ballet from her mind and focus on a subject she was passionate about. That, and in a class of nearly forty students, it was easier to blend into the masses and fly under the radar.
“Wake up, William!” Dr. Randall cracked his hand against his podium, and Will let out a loud snore before he jolted awake beside Lillian.
“I’m sure ancient civilizations aren’t nearly as exciting as hockey practice, but it’s only an hour of your time. Try to pay attention. Your grade could really benefit from it.”
Dr. Randall went on with his lecture as Will looked around in confusion. Lillian shook her head, wondering how the jocks in this school got away with everything. If she fell asleep in class, she’d never hear the end of it. But her dancing wasn’t drawing paying sports fans to the school arenas every week.
“How long was I asleep?” Will whispered.
Lillian looked up in surprise. The hockey jocks never spoke to her.
“Pretty much the whole class.” Lillian scribbled in her notebook.
“Could I borrow your notes real quick? I’ll take pictures and give them right back, promise.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but as she met his panicked gaze, her irritation vanished. He looked exhausted and kind of like a wounded puppy with his hair standing on end and an imprint of his spiral notebook on his face.
“Sure, but try to stay awake next time.” She returned her attention to the lecture and put Will out of her mind. When Dr. Randall excused the class, Lillian passed her notes to Will.
“You’re a lifesaver.” He smiled as he snapped pictures of her notes. “Good lord woman, did I sleep through three classes?” He sorted through the pages with a look of terror on his face. “You’ve written a book.”
“I take thorough notes.” Lillian shoved her heavy textbook into her bag, waiting impatiently for Will to finish.
“Good thing I sat next to the cute smart girl. We’re so going to be study buddies.”
“Uh, yeah, I don’t have much time for studying. It’s why I take such careful notes.” Lillian snatched the pages back from Will and headed for the exit. She only had an hour to grab a snack and get to the dance studio for practice. Then back for dinner and homework before bed. That was Lillian’s daily routine. Had been for as long as she could remember.
“Lil!” someone called after her halfway across the quad to her dorm. Lillian picked up her pace, hoping to avoid the delay that was Wylder Anderson. “I know you heard me.” The spunky girl with dreads fell in step beside her.
“What’s up, Wylder?” Lillian tried not to roll her eyes.
“Want to grab some food and a coffee? I’m starving.”
“You’re always hungry. And I don’t have much time before I have to get to the studio.”
“You’re always too busy for anything fun.”
“Dancing is fun.” Lillian surprised herself with those words. Dancing used to be fun when she was a kid, but she wondered when it had stopped feeling like fun and started feeling like work.
“Maybe, but not the way you do it.” Wylder elbowed her in the side.
“Check with your roommate,” Lillian said. “Devyn can probably go with you.” Devyn and Wylder were her neighbors, and they were a constant reminder of how grateful Lillian was to be a senior and no longer required to live with a roommate.
“She’s already shot me down.” Wylder tossed her blond dreads over her shoulder.
“Don’t you have a ton of guy friends on the hockey team?”
“Yeah but they’re all heading to practice, and I’m bored.”
“Maybe you should pick up an extracurricular?” Wylder seriously needed some direction in her life. The girl was always bored and kind of lazy.
“No way. I’m not the joiner type. Too bad you’re too busy for coffee. I guess I’ll catch you guys later for dinner. Oh, by the way, you should know your mom is lying in wait in your room. She’s got a billion ugly white dresses for you to try on.”
“Cotillion dresses.” Lillian’s stomach sank to her toes. “Ugh, maybe I do want to get coffee.”
“You have my sympathies. Moms are complicated, aren’t they?”
“You have no idea.”
“Good luck with that. I’m going to attempt sneaking off campus to find some normal people to hang with.” Wylder left her at the entrance to their dormitory.
Lillian trudged up the stairs to her suite on the third floor. She normally took the elevator but any excuse to delay a visit with her mother was a good choice.
“Lillian?” Devyn called from the stairwell one floor up.
“Yeah, I know. I have a visitor.”
“I brought you a protein shake and some of my workout clothes if you want to make an escape.”
“Thanks, Devyn.” Lillian met her on the next landing. “But I better get it over with. She’s here to talk about the debutant ball in Lexington in a few weeks.”
“You’re a deb this year?” Devyn tapped her riding crop against her shiny leather boots. “Been there. It’s the worst. I’m just glad I had cotillion last year.”
“You’d think my mom would rather I throw myself into practice than parade around a bunch of rich people at her country club.”
“It’s a pain, right? We’ve both got bigger priorities this year.” Devyn shrugged. “Gotta get to the stables. Good luck with your mom.”
“See you at dinner.” Lillian took the last flight of steps at a snail’s pace. Devyn was the closest thing she had to a friend at this school. They understood each other in a way none of their peers did. They had a drive few other girls their age could comprehend.
“Well it’s about time,” Daria Preston snapped the second Lillian stepped into her dorm room.
“Hi, Mom. I didn’t realize you were stopping by.” Lillian ignored her mother’s tapping, disapproving foot. “It’s nice to see you.” She dropped her messenger bag into her desk chair and kicked off her shoes. Her feet made her look like she was an accident victim. Bruised and swollen in places, and cracked and bleeding in others, she had the feet of a dedicated ballerina who worked tirelessly at her craft. Sitting on the floor, Lillian rubbed the arch of her foot, working out the stiffness. She had to tape up her feet to prepare for her class with Katrina later.
“Leave that for later.” Her mother took the surgical tape from her daughter’s hand. “We need to pick a dress for cotillion.”
Lillian eyed the rolling rack of fluffy white dresses her mother had brought with her. “It’s weeks away, Mom. You didn’t have to make a special trip for this.”
“You’ll need alterations, and we can’t risk not having the perfect dress, dear.” She snapped her fingers, gesturing for Lillian to stop her foot stretches and get her mind on fashion.
“You know I’ll wear whatever you choose. They’re all lovely.” Lillian feigned interest in the dresses. “Which one do you like?”