Break

But Natayla doesn’t pick up from the hold and transition into the end phrase. She plows to the floor face first and lands with a thud despite the featherweight of her body. I’m so lost in the dance and partnering with her that it takes me a beat to realize what’s happened.

But once I hear the collective gasps of the class, I’m on her and gently rolling her prone before anyone else reacts.

“Get me water, some ice, and a wet rag,” I yell. My eyes search out Nubo, hoping he has the remedy to rescue Natayla.

I knew I shouldn’t have let her dance again. She was already on the edge, and I’m the asshole who allowed her—no, who pushed her—to do it again.

Madame Melina is on her knees, gently slapping Tayla’s cheeks to bring her to, but her eyelids don’t even flutter. Sam is out cold.

“Get the school nurse,” Madame Melinda says.

Fuck the school nurse. “Somebody call an ambulance.”

Longstrom looks frantic, then conflicted, as he gives Becker the okay to dial 911 on his cell phone.

I crouch next to Madame Melinda and lift Sam’s head off the floor.

“No sweat, Sam. EMTs are on their way, and we’ll get you out of here. Hang on,” I tell her.

What I don’t say, as everyone stares and wonders about the relationship between Sam and me, is that she’s truly and genuinely my friend. Someone who went out of her way and took personal risks to improve my situation. It’s not something I can say of many, not even my own dad. Sam doesn’t care about bullshit. She’s the real deal, and it’s going to hurt like fuck if I lose her.

I almost bite Nubo and Longstom’s heads off as I insist on getting into the back of the ambulance with her. Longstom looks like he’s about to serve me marching papers, but it’s Nubo who stands up for me.

“Let him go. They’re friends. I’ll accompany them if you can get someone to cover my workshop,” he says.

I don’t care who the fuck comes or goes. I just want to get Sam to the fucking hospital so they can get some nutrients into her body.

“Katerina will have my head,” Longstrom warns.

With that, the paramedic closes the door, and Haverton soon fades into the distance.

I hold Sam’s limp hand and talk to her throughout the journey as Nubo calls Mr. and Mrs. Koslova, even though Longstom said he’d take care of it.

Shareen answers the phone, and I can hear the panic in her voice. Nubo gives her the details, and I motion for him to hand the phone to me. He does.

“Shareen, it’s Dashiell. I’m with her.”

“Oh, thank God. Is she all right? What happened?”

I’m franker than I should be. “What the hell do you think happened, Shareen? She can’t dance a full day on an empty stomach.” I immediately feel bad because I know it’s not Shareen’s fault. If anything, she tries to feed Sam when her mother the ogre isn’t around.

“Katerina is going to get an earful from me,” Shareen growls.

We exchange information, and I promise to have Nubo call again as soon as we have any details.

“Eating disorder?” Nubo asks when I hand him back the silent phone.

“Something like that,” I say miserably. Child abuse is what I think in my head.

Sam opens her eyes and blinks. She glances at her surroundings and immediately looks frantic.

“Hey, hey,” I say, grabbing her hands. “You’re going to the hospital. You passed out.”

She grasps my hands and then squeezes her eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Dash. Did you get the part?”

I laugh. “I don’t know. Ask Nubo. He came along for the ride.” I jerk my head in his direction, and he leans in from the bench and waves.

Tayla tries to sit up, but the attendant pushes her shoulder down gently.

“Stay on the gurney until we get to the ER,” he tells her.

“I can’t go to the hospital. Mother will kill me.” The panic makes her voice high-pitched.

Imagine being afraid of going to the hospital because the doctors will find out you’re being abused. Actually, I can imagine it because my mother spent half her life in the same predicament.

“If she didn’t want this to happen, she should have fed you.” I want to say more, bang my fists and swear, but I don’t want to scare Taye, and it won’t do her any good anyway.

“Oh, my God,” Tayla says, covering her eyes with her hands. “She’ll blame you, Dash. You have to leave and go back to school as soon as we get there.”

Her words blow my mind. If Tayla is frightened her mother will get me kicked out of school for trying to help her when she passed out for dead, then Tayla has a much more serious problem on her hands than I imagined. Katerina is willing to sacrifice her daughter’s life for some kind of sick, vicarious pseudo-stardom?