Page 59 of Eat. Prey. Love.
Fabreaux’s one redeeming feature is that she’s earned her acclaim, and she doesn’t give a shit that I’m prey-adjacent. No, she simply thinks everyone is shit compared to her and I can handle that. I’m fairly certain Lucille would also think her shit didn’t stink if she wasn’t a pred, too. My mother is pathologically narcissistic and my new ballet professor is as well. This is familiar ground for me; as long as she doesn’t start smacking me with that stupid diamond encrusted cane, I’ll survive.
One tap and it’s on, though. No second chances is my motto this year.
“Plus vif, plus rapide, mes petits hippopotames?2,” the professor calls as she claps her hands and I grit my teeth.
There’s virtuallynodancers over a buck twenty-five except for me, so that’s purposefully shitty. Again, nothing new in the bitchy woman playbook. I flex my feet, going up and down to keep warm as I ignore the hurtful bullshit. To be honest, the dance world is rife with this kind of body negativity and Fabreaux is nothing special with her insults. I want to throttle her by her long ass neck for it because not every dancer here will be able to ignore her. Many already succumb to unhealthy body dysphoria and the conditions that come with it, if the bathroom sounds are indicators—and they are. But I can’t change dance culture as well as theentire phone book worth of shit I have to deal with right now and people have free will.
Sometimes, you have to expect people to take responsibility for their poor choices, and leave it at that.
I hate it, but it’s another one of my areas of opportunity I’m working on. My heart wants to save the dance supes, Cori’s ex, and a slew of others who bring pain on themselves. Unfortunately, closing the door on people who act against their own self-interest because they might hurt me or mine is necessary. My boundaries have gotten firmer every year since my big ‘BFF break-up,’ and it’s helped me become a happier, more confident bunny. There’s freedom in not letting abusive jackwagons continue to live rent-free in your head with their misery; I don’t regret cutting them off for a second.
“And I’m no more or less popular without them, to be honest,” I mutter to myself.
“Mlle Drew, did you haveune question?”
My eyes widen and I turn to face the statue-esque swan with a brilliant, fake smile. “No,La Prima. I am merely counting to myself. Practicing mentally.”
She looks surprised, then nods with a stern, but satisfied expression. “Exactement,Mlle Drew. This is how my dancers should be: focused, ever aware, and dedicated.”
Whew. I don’t need her crawling up my fluffy tailpipe,too.
“You got last year, Frenchie!”
Arching a brow, I wisely stay quiet as the guys argue about Valentine’s Day. It’s this Friday, and while I’m secretly giddy they all want to do something, I’m sure as fuck not weighing in on whether it’s going to be a group or solo event. Fitz is right; Renniedid get to take me out last year on his own, but there were circumstances surrounding it. However, things are different now, and I can see why my crazypants tiger is being insistent.
He’s a softie at heart when it comes to me and Chessie, so he’s got passionate opinions.
“Fitzgerald, I think we all have been able to spend special times with Snacksize.” Aubrey looks amused, especially since his time resulted in being amongst humans and giant bunny ears.
“That’s true,” Felix interjects. “Chess got New Year’s, and the dragon got Easter. Fitz and I are the only ones who haven’t had ‘holiday’ alone time.”
Also true; good point, Raj.
“He got to mate first,” Chess points out with a sly grin. The look he’s giving the rest of them is pure trolling; I know he’s not chuffed about it.
The exiled tiger king puffs up again, wagging his finger at his twin. “Ah-ha! I’m owed a special time.”
“Aren’tallour dates special, Sir?” I ask innocently, batting my lashes at him.
Sue me, now I’m kind of having fun.
“Don’t start, brat,” he grumbles before taking a bite of his huge sandwich. I know I’ve got him licked when he switches from Princess to brat; it’s his tell.
Fitz comes over and wraps his arms around me, setting his chin on my shoulder to growl softly. “Everysecondwith you is special. I don’t give a red flyingfuckwhat we’re doing. You can be in the stupid bathroom, and I’m still glad to be on the other side of the door, Baby Girl.”
“Ew, Fitz,” I say as I laugh softly. “You’re such a goddamn stalker. It’s lucky I’m not easily scared off.”
“It really is,” Chessie agrees with a fond smile. “I grew up with his insanity; you’rechoosingit.”
Felix even laughs this time, shaking his head. “Bro, I wonder how we came out of the same womb sometimes.”
“It is fairly remarkable,” Rennie says as he reaches over and heaps another thick slice of roast onto my plate with a stern expression. “He’s almost your polar opposite, though that’s common with twins,non?”
“Guys, I’m standing right here,” Fitz whines as he pouts next to my face. “Stop talking about me like I’m a problem child.”
Turning my head to press my nose against his, I grin. “You are, baby, but Ilovethat about you. You make everything a thousand times more interesting and fun. They all know it, too.”
“Fine,” my dragon sighs as he rolls his eyes. “The psycho is amusing sometimes, and he makes you and our intrepid cheetah happy. That alone is worth the trouble.”