Hooked 4 (Hooked #4)(14)

“Not ideal that it’s above a pub, is it?” one mother murmured to the other in the corner. The other mother shook her head, frowning. I felt the weight of their comments on my chest. I wanted to scream at them that I was doing the best I could. But there wasn’t time for such things.


I turned back toward the girls and flipped on the music. “Who wants to stretch!”

And they leaped into the air like excited monkeys. We waved our hands first this way, then that. We touched our toes. After a few moments of warm up, we dove into the choreography I’d outlined for them. They jumped, chaotically, making the room shake. They were giggling loudly over the music. I stopped them every few moments to orient them into a better move, to make them do each movement with better form. Their arms were so slim, so tender as I worked to mold them into perfect ballerinas.

At the end of an hour I was exhausted. I led them out the door, allowing each one to hug me on her way out. I waved goodbye to the mothers. Each of them had been impressed with the way I’d handled the chaotic little girls, and they gave me smiles of approval. I only got paid once a month, of course, which meant that I would be receiving their checks at the end of the month. I would have to hold out.

I sighed, walking toward the office. I had stocked all of my financial reports there, and I looked at it beneath the lights, wondering how I was going to ever organize everything. The lights had begun to dissipate outside, and I knew I needed to walk home soon, before it got too cold. I looked at the calendar and realized, suddenly, that it was Halloween. I rushed to the window, where I could still see the little girls exiting the pub below. One of the mothers had begun placing silly costume hats on the girls; another one handed her daughter a small chocolate bar. I remembered how my own mother and I used to go trick-or-treating together, at least during the younger years. I’d been a princess or a ballerina during each one, and I hadn’t regretted it. Not once.

Suddenly, I heard movement behind me. I spun around to find Mel standing there, her face a bit pale. I placed my hand over my mouth, worried. “What is it, Mel?” I asked, rushing toward her. “Is Jackson all right?”

Mel tried to right her face. She shook her head several times, trying to smile. “I’m sorry, Molly. I’m sorry I missed rehearsal tonight. I just—I just felt I needed to go see someone. I needed to talk to someone.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Talk to someone? About what?”

“It’s complicated.” Mel lowered herself to the floor and I sat down next to her.

“All right. Well. You can tell me, you know.”

She brought her hand to my face and touched my ear. “Listen, darling Molly. You know you’re my best friend in the city.”

“You’re my only friend in the city,” I replied, laughing. It was true, of course. I had no one else.

She showed me all her teeth, grinning in such perfect order. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. In fact, I want everything to work out for you. You’ve worked harder than anyone I know to get this dance studio up and running.”

I nodded slowly, thinking back on all the tumultuous days of the past two years. It had all been too much, in so many ways. “I couldn’t have done it without my assistant.”

But Mel just waved her hand in front of her face, shaking her head. “No. This was all you, darling. This was all you. Remember that.” She stood, suddenly, and began pacing the floor. “I don’t know how to tell you this. In fact. Maybe I should just show you.”

I stood up as well. The curiosity of the moment was killing me. I placed my hands on my hips, beginning to feel worried. “What is it, Mel?”

She spun around, her eyes bright. “I think you should run over to the old dance studio. I think you should go there. Now.”

I flung my hands in the air, suddenly angry. “What the hell? I know that that bastard bought the place, and that he tore it down. I also know that he paid for my loans, like I was his f*cking charity case. What is there for me to find out at the old dump? Has it opened? Can I buy a dumb book from the Femme Fatale bookstore?” I felt like I was ranting, and I was.

But Mel just shook her head. She lowered her chin, looking down at the ground. “If you don’t like what you see there tonight, you can blame me for everything.” She made eye contact with me with a sudden jolt. “You can blame me for him. For everything. And I’ll leave you alone forever.”

My heart sank into my stomach. Why was she threatening me? I stomped my foot like a child. “What do you—“

“Just go!” she cried.

I grabbed my coat, suddenly frightened. I rushed down the steps, wrapping my scarf around my neck. Outside, the rushing mentality of the last day of October coated every area of Wicker Park. I saw small children dressed in immaculate costumes; I saw nearly-naked women wearing nurse outfits and laughing with their breasts high in the air. I saw older men and women walking together, their hands linked in solidarity against all the terrors of youth.


I rushed on toward my old dance studio. What was Mel up to? And what had she meant when she said it was all her fault? What sort of meeting had she been at today that made her act like such a crazy person in the dance studio?

I didn’t know. The endorphins from the fast jog through Wicker Park were pulsing in my veins. I made a mad dash in the midst of a group of scary looking clowns, and they each reached out for my arms, pulling me back until I could get away. My heart beat faster.