Cassie scoffs, a playful glint in her eye. “Honey, she’s hardly better than you at anything.”
I smile up at her, admiring her. “I honestly think you’re my mom in another universe.”
She gasps dramatically, placing her hand on her chest. “I’m way too young to be your mother.”
I chuckle. She’s only eight years older than me, but when I joined her class as a fresh-faced freshman, having just lost my mom two years before, I kind of clung to her.
“A cool auntie, then,” I suggest.
She smiles back warmly. “I’ll always be here for you, okay? Even when you leave Redfield and become a famous dancer, swimming in millions, and forget about me.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “I’ll never forget about you. And we don’t even know if I got in yet.”
“Right. Of course,” she says, winking at me before scrolling through music on her phone.
I blink. “You know something?”
She shrugs, a playful smile lingering on her lips as she gazes at her phone. “Maybe.”
“What?” I press, leaning in eagerly. She sets her phone aside, and bends down with a smirk, ignoring me as she starts to stretch. “What do you know?” I ask, desperate for answers.
She straightens her back, and flashes me a grin. “Let’s get started people,” she calls out.
I narrow my eyes at her. “I hate you.”
“I know, honey,” she says with a wink. “Now get into position. Have you been stretching?”
I blow out a breath. “I’ve mastered the splits like you told me to. What more do you want from me, woman?”
With a laugh, Cassie reaches for her phone to press play. Stepping back, I adjust my position, smoothing down my shirt in the mirror and tucking it into my sports bra.
The room fills with the loud bass of the music, and Cassie launches into the new choreography. I focus intently on her movements, soaking in every detail and marking the steps as I watch her. The music fills the room, and I break out into a grin as I watch her move, her long braids swaying with each fluid motion. She’s so incredibly talented, and it pains me to think she might be wasting her gifts on a bunch of idiots.
Except for me,obviously.
The music fades out as she finishes demonstrating the new choreography, turning to us with a sigh of relief. “So, what did you guys think?” The girls clap and cheer, showing their support, and Cassie laughs, taking a bow. “Alright, ready to learn the choreo?”
An hour later, I’m on the verge of dying.
Okay, maybe not quite, butreallyclose. Cassie always works my butt off. I like to think it’s because I’m her favorite, but honestly, she’s just all about perfection, pushing us until we’ve got it down.
“You killed me,” I mutter, sprawling out on the cool wooden floor. “I’m officially deceased. Call the undertaker.”
“Quit lying on the floor,” she retorts, a hint of amusement in her voice.
I groan and shake my head. “Legs. Don’t. Work.”
“It’s because you didn’t stretch,” she replies, prompting me to narrow my eyes as I sit up to face her. “Next time, don’t be late, so you can properly warm up.”
“I demand a refund,” I say, shooting her a glare.
“The class is already finished,” she replies, raising an eyebrow and resting a hand on her hip.
“I’m talking about the last four years. This is emotional torture. Scratch that, physical torture.”
She shakes her head. “Cut the drama and head on home. Aren’t you getting hungry by now?”
At the mention of food, my stomach rumbles, and I shoot her a surprised look. “How did you guess?”
