Can you train Faith today? I'm taking a break.
Mark's text message pops up once more in my head as I walk, the rays of the morning sun pierce through the thick canopy of trees, casting dappled shadows across the university's quad. Today is the day I have decided to take matters into my own hands, determined to drive the new girl, Faith, out of our lives. We don't need another liability, another person to be responsible for like my sister. The weight of Sasha's decisions already burdens me beyond measure, and I can't bear the thought of taking on more. I don't know what's up with Mark, but it doesn't matter. If he can't drive her away, then I will.
Faith stands a few feet away when I arrive at the auditorium around lunchtime, her eyes filled with hope and an eagerness to prove herself. It irritates me, that spark of enthusiasm she possesses. I am determined to extinguish it, to show her just how futile her efforts are. She is an outsider, a disruption to our carefully cultivated team.
As I approach her, a swarm of thoughts clouds my mind. I have to be relentless, unwavering in my resolve. She has to understand the gravity of her presence around the three of us, the impossibility of truly belonging. The weight of Sasha's betrayal presses against my chest, reminding me of the responsibilities we bear. We can't afford any distractions, any emotional attachments that might divert our attention from what truly matters. I honestly don't know what Danny was thinking, letting this girl into our troupe.
I watch Faith's lips part, her voice brimming with genuine curiosity. "Theo, where's Mark? Why did you come?"
"Mark needed a break from you, I guess," I say bitterly. "So I'm here to see what you've got."
"Oh. Okay." She looks unsure, and I can't blame her. She knows I don't want her here, and now that I'm in charge, I intend to make that clear. Maybe I can push her out with my persistence alone.
"Are you ready?" I ask, and Faith nods before hesitating. She draws her lip between her teeth to chew on it, and I hate myself for briefly imagining kissing those red lips.
"Theo," she says again, and a muscle in my jaw twitches.
"What?"
"Someone came to see me last night. Um—a kid named Xander?"
The sound of his name makes anger boil in my chest. I cringe inwardly, my fists curling into tight little balls of fury at my side. What in the hell is Xander doing poaching on Faith?
You don't even want her around, the voice in my head reminds me. Who cares what he wanted with her?
But still, the rage grows as I stare at Faith, contemplating her words.
"What did that douchebag have to say?" I ask. For a moment, I don't think she's going to tell me.
"He tried to recruit me," she says instead, running a hand nervously through her free-flowing blonde hair. I don't know why, but anger surges within me, fueling my actions as I concoct a plan to make her training session even more grueling. It's not her fault that Xander approached her, but it's her fault that I even care.
"And?" I push. "Did you accept his offer?"
"If I did, would I be here right now ready to practice?" she asks, her tone dripping with the kind of sarcasm that I admire in a woman.
"Would you rather be there?" I ask, and Faith shakes her head.
"He's a creep. I don't want anything to do with him."
I'm relieved. Not that it matters, but I know now that if I do end up driving Faith away, she might just go crawling to Xander … and I don't know which is worse: keeping her around or letting her leave for him.
Fuck.
"Whatever," I say, pushing thoughts of Xander the asshole to the side. "Forget him. Let's practice."
I'm feeling like a dick today, so the obstacles are raised higher, and the challenging moves intensified. I put on the music and push Faith mercilessly, my voice dripping with disdain and doubt. I want her to feel the weight of her choices, to understand the harsh reality of the life she is voluntarily stepping into. But in my single-minded determination, I lose control. And as Faith propels herself forward to tackle one of my new moves, my misjudgment results in her tripping, and time seems to stand still as she careens towards the floor, her ankle twisting at an unnatural angle before she lands in a heap on the floor. Cries of anguish erupt into the air and horror floods my senses as I realize the extent of my mistake. I didn't intend to harm her physically, only to wound her emotionally.
"Shit," I breathe, rushing to her side. "Faith? Faith, are you okay?" My voice trembles with genuine concern, my heart pounding in my chest. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks—somewhere beneath the layers of anger and detachment, I actually care about what happens to her.
She's quiet now, suffering in silent agony, but her clenched jaw and pursed lips reveal her immense pain. I fear she'll draw blood from the sheer force of her restraint.
"I'm fine," she manages to whisper between winces of pain. "I just need a minute." Her words are strained, her bravery evident despite the overwhelming discomfort she must be feeling.
"No, you're not fine," I retort, my voice laced with regret. Kneeling down beside her, I carefully assess her injured ankle. It's swollen, discolored, and clearly in need of urgent medical attention. "I messed up, Faith. I didn't mean for this to happen," I confess, my voice filled with remorse. The weight of guilt presses upon my shoulders, making it difficult to breathe. "We need to get you to urgent care. It's worse than I thought."
She looks up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and understanding. "You didn't do it on purpose, Theo. I know that," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of forgiveness. I hate that she's so forgiving, so innocent. She should hate me. She should hate all of us. Forgiveness is not what I deserve.
I rise to my feet, scooping her gently into my arms. "I should have never pushed you so hard. I let my own anger cloud my judgment, and now you're paying the price." The weight of her frail body against mine is a stark reminder of the consequences of my actions. "I'm taking you to see a doctor."
"It's probably just a sprain," she objects, but she can't resist much already laid up in my arms. I ignore her protests and carry her outside and to my car, setting her gently in the passenger's seat, pretending not to notice the tears of pain welling in her eyes. I yank my phone out of my pocket and text Mark and Danny, telling them to meet us at the urgent care on campus.
"This is really unnecessary," Faith says as I drive the short distance to the campus office. "I'm fine, Theo."
"Not if it's broken."
"It's not broken," she says, but she sounds entirely unconvinced. So am I.
"Stop arguing with me and just let the doctor check it out, okay?"
She sighs, resigned, and I resist the sudden urge I have to reach out and take her hand in mind. At this point, she'd probably slap me for trying, and I'm not sure I'd blame her.
Faith and I wait for a few minutes in the waiting room. Before we're called back, Danny and Mark rush through the door, their expressions a mix of concern and frustration.
"What the hell happened, Theo?" Danny demands, his voice sharp and accusatory. He glances from me to Faith, and then back again.
"I injured her," I admit, my voice heavy with remorse. "I pushed her too far. She might have broken her ankle."
I can see the disappointment etched across Danny's face, and I'm mildly surprised to see the anger in Mark's eyes, as well. I think he's already as smitten with her as Danny has been from the beginning.
"Guys, I'm fine," Faith insists, removing the pack of ice the front desk had offered her while we wait. "It's probably just a sprain." She hesitates, looking torn. "And it wasn't Theo's fault. He didn't trip me. I did it to myself."
"Way to injure our brand-new teammate," Danny seethes, his expression mirroring my own self-loathing. Before I can retaliate, the doctor calls us back. Immediately, Mark and Danny swarm to Faith, one of them on each side of her as they escort her gently to the back. Like a scorned puppy dog, I follow, praying that my own anger hasn't cost us a dancer.
And maybe even a friend.