The Storm Before the Calm by Cate Ashwood Read Free Book Online Page B

awesome,” I agreed.
    “I love Sophie’s style. Are you going to sign up for contemporary?”
    “Definitely.”
    “That’s great,” she said. “Maybe we could partner on one of the pieces. I was watching you. You’re really good.”
    I blushed. “Thanks,” I said.
    “Are you ready for ballroom next? If we get to choose partners, wanna be mine?”
    I checked the paper I’d written my temporary schedule down on. Andy was right. Ballroom was next, something I’d never been overly interested in, but I was willing to try it. If I was going to take risks and broaden my horizons anywhere, it was here.
    “Sure. Sounds good to me.” I was actually relieved. The thought of having to try to find someone who wanted to partner with me sounded intimidating.
    “Great! Let’s go!”
    She bounced out ahead of me. I picked up my things and followed her out of the room.
    “Charlie?” I heard a voice behind me calling.
    I turned, more than a little stunned to see it was Max.
    “It’s Charlie, right?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” I said, uneasy and a bit confused as to why he would want to talk to me.
    “You did awesome,” he said.
    I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out. I couldn’t seem to form the words.
    “Are you going to sign up for Sophie’s class?”
    I nodded.
    He grinned at me—a grin that melted me from the inside out.
    “Good. I’ll see you around, then.”
    I nodded again. “Yeah. See you around.”
     
     
    B Y THE end of the day, I’d conquered contemporary, ballroom, tap, hip-hop, ballet, and acro. The fact that I hadn’t fallen on my face or had a panic attack in the middle of any of the classes was a triumph for me. Double triumph was that no one seemed to immediately hate me. I wasn’t feeling at home yet, but I was beginning to feel like this might be a place I could belong. For the summer at least.
    I’d chosen my classes: contemp, ballet, acro, and tap. I loved jazz, but contemporary edged it out, and they were so similar that I wanted to have a more diverse schedule. The instructors had all been fantastic, and despite the fact that my feet felt like someone had spent eight hours smashing the soles of them with a sledgehammer, I was hopeful the summer would live up to my expectations.
    For now, though, the thought of trying to walk to the subway and then make my way back to Ginny’s apartment was painful, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Hopefully she would have some ibuprofen and ice packs handy. I didn’t remember ever feeling that tired in my life. My whole body ached with a fatigue so strong I wanted to cry. I trudged my way up the street, thankful Addison had told me I was allowed to leave my things in the lockers. It saved me having to carry everything back and forth every day, and less to carry sounded like a godsend right about then.
    I made my way down the steps to the subway platform and waited for the train, double-checking I was on the right side. When the train pulled up, I dodged the people exiting and found a spot near the door to sit. As the weight lifted off my feet, I felt the immediate rush of blood to my heels, followed by the deep throbbing as the ache settled in.
    By the time I reached Ninety-Sixth Street, my eyelids were drooping and I was ready to crawl into bed that very moment. I gave an inward groan at the fact that I still had several blocks to walk. Going from dancing three hours every night to a full eight-hour day was going to be hell on my body, but it would be worth it.
    Once I’d arrived home, I scarfed down the meal Aunt Ginny had left for me in the fridge, making a mental note to thank her and do some meal planning of my own. I didn’t want to be relying on her all summer to provide for me. She was busy enough with work, and I was more than capable of taking care of myself. I’d been in charge of meals at home for a long time. My mom wasn’t able to do it all, so I picked up the slack. It wasn’t that I felt like my mom had fallen