Chapter Sixteen – Carnival Catastrophe

Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, Dances with Swans, floated out of the speakers as all twenty students completed a rather intricate lift. Rick placed me excessively gently back on the ground. Before I sashayed to my next position, I glared at him. He knew better than to undermine me. I had told him, with specific instructions, not to treat me any differently.

I was already struggling with my classmates. Nikki and the other girls hated me for being Eliana's daughter. They believed I received special treatment any time the headmistress even glanced in my direction, let alone if she were to actually make a comment on my technique, never mind if it were a negative or positive remark. If she happened to correct my performance, it was "constructive criticism" and was given merely to aid me in my assent to becoming Aurora for the Rose Adagio, a nomination they deemed unjust and unwarranted. Even less frequent, if she graced me with a one-word commendation, it was only because I was her daughter. I never could win with this bunch; they were a tough crowd.

Try as I might, they rejected any sort of affiliation with me outside of class. Only Rick and Elton presented me with some sympathy, which Rick insisted was only because he had to, being my boyfriend and all.

However, the more my classmates ostracized me, the harder I worked. The severity of their exclusion of me was directly proportional to the effort I put in to honing my skills and perfecting my abilities. To my doctors' dismay, this obstinate determination was deemed potentially unhealthy and unsafe for my recovery. I clung to that one word 'potentially' in all of my arguments.

The bright side of being an independent was that I controlled my own life. Despite missing my adoptive parents, I no longer had to abide by anyone's rules but my own. And the government's, of course. I guess, if I were to murder someone, I'd still get thrown in the slammer. But my biological parents had no claim over me since I turned eighteen; I was my own adult.

For every perk of being an independent adult, there was double the amount of disadvantages. Debt leftover from my adoptive parents. Taxes. Owning a car. Paying for gas. Grocery shopping. Health insurance. Dental insurance. Life insurance. Car insurance. Pet insurance. Alien abduction insurance. What the hell is a deductible? Bills. So many bills. Writing checks. Fixing leaky faucets. Unclogging toilets. Cleaning. Constantly cleaning. Laundry. Dishes. Vacuuming. Good Lord, the list never ends.

The music faded to an end, and Headmistress Hough clapped her hands twice.

"Well done, class. One of our best numbers yet. But there is still room for improvement. Finn, you must remember to keep your muscles taut on your arabesques. Daria, your attitude derrieres were sharp; well done. Ivy, your brisé volé's are much faster than yesterday; I'm impressed."

I inwardly groaned at the narrowed glowers I received from all directions. Never mind that she had also complimented Daria, it was I who would receive the petty jealousy of everyone.

"Take five," Headmistress Hough ordered.

As every other student began downing their bottles of water, I made my way over to my mother.

"Headmistress Hough," I started.

"Hey, Ging—Ivy."

"It's a common occurrence in my life," I assured her in response to her embarrassed expression.

"What's going on? Are you feeling okay? Do you need a break?" she interrogated, searching my entire body for any sign of deterioration: a frequent habit of hers as of late.

"No, I'm perfectly fine. I want you to stop complimenting me."

"What? But you're doing exceptionally well, in spite of the trauma you've gone through."

"That doesn't matter. I'm slowly—actually, scratch that—I'm very, very quickly becoming a social pariah."

"Because of me?"

"Because of being your daughter."

"Well, neither one of us can change that."

"I need you to stop showing me any sign of approval. Only constructive criticism."

She arched a speculative eyebrow at me before her lip curled into a formidable smirk.

"Oh, no. Don't you dare—"

"I'll stop if you agree to cut back on practicing so much."

"No."

"Then the compliments might come double time."

I outwardly groaned this time.

"Blackmail in its truest form," I grumbled. "Fine. I'll cut back to only three hours extra practice."

"One and a half," she negotiated.

"Two and a half."

"Two."

"Fine."

"Good."

She smiled and turned away from me, effectively dismissing me, effectively treating me like one of her students. Perfect.

Feeling lighter, I joined Rick and Elton.

"She agree?" Rick asked.

"In a manner."

"She blackmailed you, huh?" Elton asked.

"I can only practice two hours after class from now on."

"Sounds like her."

"How come the other dancers don't hate you?" I blurted without thinking.

Elton contemplated that. "I guess it's because I didn't get the role of the leading prince," he answered, nodding toward Rick. "Honestly, Ivy, they would hate whoever earned the role of Aurora, no matter who it was. You just get particularly penalized because you're Eliana's daughter."

"Fair enough, I guess," I relented and downed my water.

As we left class that day, I overheard Eliana on the phone, "Holden, you promised Marianna. I know, I know how important this deal is, but I can't take her. I have another class and won't get out of here until nine tonight. It'll be closed by then. I'll see. Okay. You can't do this to her next time. You know better than to let work get in the way—I know. Just remember, okay?"

She hung up and shoved her phone in her bag.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah, nothing to worry about," she smiled up at me.

"I'm not Marianna; you don't have to lie to me."

She smiled a real smile this time. "Sometimes, I forget. You look just like her. Holden promised to take Marianna to the carnival today, but he can't anymore. It's the last day they're in town."

"I'll take her."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Why not? She's my sister."

"I'm sure you have plenty of homework to catch up on."

"Just the normal amount. How about…instead of practicing my two hours tonight, I'll take Marianna to the carnival. And I'll practice four hours tomorrow."

Eliana pursed her lips at me. "Real smooth."

I winked at her. "Like mother; like daughter."

"Cheeky."

"I'll pick Marianna up from school," I said over my shoulder as I left the studio.

I caught up with Rick and Elton as they headed to a coffee shop on campus.

"What are you guys doing tonight?"

"Writing an essay," Elton mumbled glumly.

"That sounds exciting. What about you?"

"Playing videogames."

"Wanna go on a date instead?"

"With you? Gross. No."

"Perfect. Be ready in, like, half an hour?"

"Where are we going?" He called after me as I headed to my dorm.

"It's a surprise! Also, my little sister is coming!" I said before I bolted. He couldn't reject me if I couldn't hear him.

Rick was at my door, looking dashing as ever, half an hour later.

"Good Lord, did you shower? I hope you're not expecting me to take you to the Louvre," I teased.

"Well, there goes my whole night. I can't believe I actually washed my hair if we're not visiting France. What a disappointment."

I grinned at him as I grabbed Brownie's leash and clipped it onto her collar.

"So we're taking your little sister and your dog on our date. My dreams are finally coming true."

"Have you worked out where we're going yet?"

"Given the clues, I was thinking either a strip club or McDonald's."

"So close, yet so far away."

"Do I get one more guess?"

I shrugged.

"The carnival."

That gave me reason to shoot him a shocked side glance. "Impressive. How did you manage to work it out? You're usually not that insightful."

He made a face at my jibe. "Elton told me Marianna was supposed to go to the carnival today with your father. After that, I was able to work the math out all by myself."

"I'm very impressed with your intelligence."

"It's been known to happen."

"I'll keep you around."

"I'm eternally grateful."

When we picked Marianna up from school, she was ecstatic and bounced up and down in her seat the entire ride to the carnival. I don't think she took a single breath as she prattled nonstop, carrying the conversation by herself. Her energy never dwindled as she sprinted from one ride to another, from one game to another. Within the first hour, Rick was carrying a life-size stuffed poodle in one hand and two cotton-candy sticks in the other. I made sure to take several pictures to document his humiliation.

"Can we ride the Ferris wheel next?" Marianna exclaimed, her blue eyes lighting up as she watched the large, bright wheel rotating.

"Of course," I agreed.

There was a sign that read 'No Pets Allowed' in front of the ride.

"Well, crap," I muttered, glancing at Brownie.

"Don't worry; I got this," Rick assured me.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, it doesn't involve arson."

"Oh, that's reassuring, thanks."

"Always here to calm your fears."

He took Brownie's leash from me and handed me the stuffed animal and one of the cotton-candy sticks. Marianna and I munched on the pure sugar while we waited in line, both alternately trying to guess what Rick had in mind.

"Are you going to dress her up and pretend she's a person?" Marianna guessed. "Like in The Emperor's New Groove?"

"Are you going to tell them that the spirit of your great-grandmother lives within her and you have to take her with you on the ride or she'll cast a curse over the entire carnival?" I guessed.

"You're really close with that one," Rick returned.

We finally approached the worker who was managing the ride and were inevitably stopped, "No dogs can ride the Ferris wheel. You'll have to take your dog to the front where they have a station to help you out."

"I'm so sorry, sir," Rick began, "but this is my Seeing Eye dog. I need her with me at all times."

The worker seemed somewhat repentant before he surveyed Brownie and Rick suspiciously. "Where is her uniform?"

"We picked her up straight from the groomer's before coming here and left her vest at home," I explained.

The worker deliberated for a moment before acquiescing and allowing all four of us on the ride. As our seat rose out of hearing and seeing distance of the workers and other carnival-goers, Rick and I high-fived.

"We make great liars," Rick complimented.

"Marianna, do not use us as role models, okay?"

"Can I write about you guys in my writing journal at school for what people do to get coal in their stockings from Santa?"

Rick and I grinned. "Of course you can," I said.

"Life goal achieved."

As we neared the top of the wheel, fireworks started exploding in the night's sky. For a moment, all three of us were entranced. Brownie started barking, but remained obediently on the seat. Marianna continued to watch the light show, but Rick pulled me onto his lap.

My heart hammered almost painfully against my chest as his hands wove into my hair and his lips found mine.

"As much as I love to tease you, Ginger," he spoke barely above a whisper, his voice hoarse, "you've really changed me, for the better, in ways I didn't even expect were possible. And I—"

I wrapped my hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him to me again, crashing my lips to his, to silence him. As much as I cherished Rick and enjoyed his company and felt comfortable and right being with him, I was not ready for him to say that word. I was not ready to say that word to him. One thing I had learned from dating Justin and dating Hurley was that I could feel so passionately about someone and then realize he wasn't the right one.

I desperately wanted Rick to be the right one for me. And I definitely felt that he was, but I wanted to take my time. I wanted to really know this time. I didn't want to fuck it up, like I had with the others.

"Ginger, I lo—"

"No, don't, please, don't."

His eyes widened, and his expression shifted to stunned rejection. I felt his body tense underneath mine.

"No, it's not that I don't want you to or that I don't feel the same way, but, Rick, I don't want to—I can't move fast this time."

He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing down and then back up again, as if swallowing the words he was about to say.

I put a hand to my warm forehead. "I do, I do, I truly do," I stammered about, trying to figure out what I meant. "I just can't say it out loud. I said it to both of them, and they weren't the ones. And I need you—I need this to be real. And I just want to make sure I'm right about this—about you."

He smiled. "I can wait."

I pulled him down for another kiss, my chest rising to meet his as well, grateful beyond belief for his understanding and patience with me.

"Besides," I added when we came up for breath, "my six-year-old sister is here."

"Of course. Saying the L-word is a monstrosity, but making out in front of her is fine."

"Technically, we're behind her."

Brownie then decided it was the opportune time to squeeze her way between us and begin licking our faces. Laughing, I pushed her away slightly, not trying to make out with her too.

"Looks like someone was a little jealous," Rick commented as he petted her between the ears.

Gathering our things from the compartment, we exited the Ferris wheel soon after, and Rick made an exaggerated show of being blind and using Brownie as his guide dog, tripping over tree branches and stumbling into trash cans. Marianna held her sides as she cracked up at his silly antics. Watching Rick playing with Brownie and Marianna really made me stand back and appreciate at him, thinking back to what he had said about changing for the better.

He used to be such a player, such a manwhore. I don't think I'd ever seen him with the same girl twice. He used to try to get me undressed at every chance he could. So immature and uncaring of anyone's feelings but his own. But now, ever since we'd come to Julliard and started dating, he hadn't once pressured me to do anything I didn't want to do. He never pushed me. He always considered my feelings. He always put me first.

I was leaning against a tree, watching Rick and Marianna and Brownie, with an absentminded smile on my face when a I heard a wheezy voice behind me.

"Care to have your palm read, mademoiselle?"

I turned to see a small, dark-haired woman in her late fifties, wearing a red dress and an excessive amount of beads, similar to the style of Gypsies.

"No, that's okay. Thanks though," I told her.

Her dark eyes shifted to my shoulder before meeting my eyes again. "Free of charge for you, my lovely."

As much as I loved free things, I was unsettled by her for some reason. My eyebrows cinched, and I shifted my weight uncomfortably. Her beady eyes were much too insightful, too probing.

"No, thank you. I'd really rather not."

"It's harmless, my dear. I can assure you there's nothing to be afraid of." She reached out, her long-nailed fingers close to my crossed arms, reaching for my hand.

I took a step back, bumping into the tree I had been leaning against.

"Oooh, who are you?" Marianna came bounding up to the fortune-teller.

The woman smiled at her, seeing her opportunity. "I can see your future, my child."

"What? Really? Can you?" Marianna's eyes popped open wide, excitement etched on her face.

"No, Marianna, come on." I grabbed my sister's hand, but she slipped away, closer to the fortune-teller.

"Am I going to be a princess when I grow up?"

"Come in to my tent, and I can show you," the woman encouraged.

"No," I said sternly, my voice raising an octave. From harshness or from fright, I was not entirely certain.

Rick had come to stand by me and could sense my uneasiness. He placed a supportive hand on the small of my back and called to Marianna, "Come on, Marianna, it's time to go. You've got school in the morning."

"Please? Please? Please? Ginger? Please? It's the last thing we have to do. I promise we can leave right after. I've never been told my future before. Please?"

I bit my lip. Her pleading eyes made me want to cave.

But there was something off about this woman. I didn't like the feeling I was getting. I idly wondered if Eliana's bodyguard, Derek Daniels, was nearby.

Honestly, what was the worst that could happen?

"Fine," I relented.

"Ginger," Rick whispered, "if you don't want to do this—"

"It's okay. It'll be fine. It's just for fun." I was trying to convince myself more than Rick. "But," I turned to the woman, "I'm not letting her go in alone."

"Of course, my dear, whatever makes you feel comfortable."

She took Marianna's hand and led her into the red tent. I was close behind her, and Rick was behind me.

"No pets!"

"She's my seeing eye—"

"I don't think so," the fortune-teller interrupted.

"She really knows!" Marianna cried in amazement.

"You must stay outside the tent with the dog," she informed Rick.

His gaze shifted to mine. Although discomfort was evident in my countenance, I nodded to him, and he reluctantly headed back out. "I'll be just outside the door, okay?" he informed me.

The small space contained a circular table covered in thick velvet. A customary magic ball was set in the center. All sorts of herbs and animal skin hung from the walls and ceiling. Smoke and incense filled the small tent, already making me feel nauseated.

Marianna, unperturbed by the creepiness of the fortune-teller's tent, bounced on her seat as she waited to be told her faux future.

"I am Madame Mirela and I am going to tell you your future, Marianna. Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

Madame Mirela gazed into the hazy ball, moving her hands around it as she squinted and searched.

"You come from a family of dancers," she spoke with certainty.

Marianna giggled and nodded effusively.

Okay, weird. But, maybe, she'd seen the ballet shoes on Marianna's shirt and made that inference. Or noticed how toned and strong my calf muscles were. Totally didn't prove anything.

"But you will not become a professional dancer like your family."

Marianna frowned at this.

"Monster. I'm seeing a monster."

"That's my cat's name!"

I rolled my eyes heavenward.

"Yes, that's it. You are destined to become a veterinarian."

Marianna leaped for joy, a huge smile on her lips.

"Oh my gosh, I can't wait to tell mom and dad and Elton and Rick!" She sprinted out of the tent to let Rick in on the big news of her career choice.

"Thank you," I said definitively, rising from my chair to leave.

Madame Mirela grabbed my hand and pulled it across the table, effectively forcing me to plop back down in the seat. "Oof," I gasped, feeling a twinge in the extension of my arm, still sore from the car incident.

"You've felt pain in your life," she said, staring at my palm.

"I mean, who hasn't?"

"Two loves lost."

"Love is a strong word."

"Two parents lost."

"All right, thanks for drudging that back up." I felt the hot sting of tears at the backs of my eyes. The smoke wasn't helping. And my head was feeling lighter, my eyes heavier. I blinked a few times to clear my senses.

"Something hovers around you constantly."

"Uh." I didn't have a quip for this gibberish.

She glanced at my shoulder before returning her gaze to my palm.

"Not something, but someone."

She could be talking about the new bodyguard. Or even Justin, for that matter. Had she seen him?

"Did you notice someone following us around the park?" I asked, maybe too quickly.

"Yes."

My heart rate sped up.

"What did he look like? Was he wearing a baseball cap?"

"No."

I waited.

"Not a 'he.' She. She has blonde hair."

I blinked. Derek had said he'd seen a girl with long, blonde hair the other night. Maybe, Justin did have an accomplice.

"Did you notice anything else about her?"

"Something dangerous."

"What? No, go back. This girl, did she—?"

"Something dangerous will happen. Something sinister." She gripped my wrist, moving up my arm, looking more closely at my skin, my veins. "A group of people. And a gun. Two guns? You will receive a warning. A text." She pulled my arm farther across the table, gripping it tighter. I managed to smother a cry of pain, but my eyes were watering; from the pain or from the smoke, I couldn't tell. "Beware Stringer."

"Wh-What?" My eyelids drooped. I couldn't lift them anymore. My head was so light, my stomach so queasy.

"Beware Stringer."

My head hit the table, and my world went black.

A few moments later, I felt hands at my hair, on my neck, my forehead, my cheeks. "Ginger? Ginger, wake up! Please, Ginger."

My eyes fluttered open, the oppressive weight lifting slightly.

"Ugh," I groaned, my stomach still unsettled and my head still fuzzy. "Trashcan," I choked out.

One was thrust between my legs, and I lurched forward, emptying the contents of my stomach into the can. The hands held my hair back; they patted my back, wiped the sweat from my brow. Somehow, a glass of water was placed in my hand, and I was encouraged to drink.

Finally, I sat back in the chair and focused on Rick.

"What happened?" he asked, his eyes laced with worry and concern.

I groaned, turning my head away, not wanting to think about it, let alone talk about it. I don't know what had happened, but I still felt sick.

"Put the smoke out."

"What smoke?" Rick asked.

"The incense."

"There is no incense."

I whimpered. What did he mean? No incense? How could he not see it? Smell it? Whatever. I couldn't stand being in this tent any longer.

"Get me out of here," I whispered.

He readily assisted me to a standing position, supporting me with an arm around my waist. He held Brownie's leash with his other hand and gave the stuffed poodle to Marianna as we made it back to the car.

My stomach was still cramping, and I felt like I was going to puke again. Oh, God. No. While he was helping Marianna into her seatbelt in the back, I opened the door to the car and threw up the last of my dinner onto the ground. Tears leaked out of the sides of my eyes, and my throat stung.

I had nothing left to vomit, but my insides were still churning. Curling up on the seat, I wrapped my arms around my middle, and rested my forehead against the cold window, hoping to ease the ache. I felt a hand on my forehead and jumped slightly, not having realized Rick had already gotten into the driver's seat.

"Oh, God, you're burning up."

I mumbled something incomprehensible before everything dissolved into mist. The next time I woke, I was in a strange bed in a strange room. I shot up, soaked in sweat. Immediately, someone was there, forcing me to drink water, wiping my face with a cold, wet washcloth.

When the episode faded and I was more coherent, I squinted between my wet eyelashes and noticed someone sitting in a chair beside the bed, sleeping in a very uncomfortable position.

Was that…was that Holden? Was that my father? Before I could call out to him and thank him and tell him to go to bed, my world faded to black once more.

A/N: So I sat down just to write out an outline for this chapter and then ended up writing the entire thing at 3 in the morning. Words just started flowing. After having writer's block on this story for well over 6 months, this chapter was one of the easiest to write. And it might be my favorite chapter of this story line, honestly.

Let me know what you thought of it! I always love to hear from you guys.

And I'll do my best not to make you wait as long as you had to for this chapter. But no promises. Work and school have really gotten in the way of life. That needs to stop.

ALSO*** I just started a pinterest for ALL of my stories. It's so cool, and I'm completely addicted to it. I'm constantly pinning things to my boards!

You should definitely check it out. I'm about to post the link in my profile!

Love you all and thank you for sticking with me through thick and thin (- which one means good and which one means bad?)

~Chelsea Elizabeth