That Summer

Evangeline entered the kitchen the next morning only to find her brother and two of his friends sitting at the table with large plates of breakfast in front of them. She instantly felt bile coming up her throat at the thought of food. Bryan, John and Paul all looked at her curiously.

"You okay?" Bryan asked tentatively, noticing the sour look on his sister's face.

Evangeline cleared her throat and forced out a, "Yeah. I still don't feel very well."

"Maybe you should skip class today, then," he suggested.

"No," she replied sharply. Missing a dance class was the last thing she needed. She wouldn't let them know that they'd affected her.

They would not win.

All three of the boys stared at the girl before them, slightly taken aback. She'd objected so angrily, so unhesitatingly that each boy felt like there was something more behind the declaration. Something had snapped in her eyes and her jaw had set in determination. John and Bryan both exchanged looks with each other but Paul found himself completely unable to pull his eyes away from Evangeline. Something just didn't look right about her. It's not that something was just different; it was that it was wrong.

"I'm going to be late for class. I should go," she announced and quickly made her way towards the door.

"You should eat something before you go," Mrs. Donahue suggested to her daughter as she entered the kitchen to retrieve the thermos she'd left. Evangeline froze before the doorway, her back seeming to stiffen. She turned around slowly and smiled at her mother.

"Yeah," she agreed.

Mrs. Donahue smiled back and told all the teenagers in her kitchen to have a good day before she walked back out the door. Evangeline grabbed an apple from the basket, mumbled a "bye" and exited the backdoor as if she had someone chasing her.

The three boys sat in an awkward silence before John acknowledged, "Well that was weird."
"Yeah," Bryan and Paul chorused.

"She'll probably be better in a few days. She rarely ever gets sick anyway," Bryan shrugged and stood up to place his now empty dish in the dishwasher. John and Paul followed suit. A half hour later, they were sitting in front of the television.

"I'm going to head out. I'll meet you guys at the studio in a little bit," Paul told his friends.

"Okay," they agreed.

Paul walked back through the kitchen and exited the back door to get to his car. When he turned around to close the door behind him, he noticed something red beneath the green of a bush's leaves. He knelt down and found an apple, completely untouched and only bruised from being dropped. Paul's brow creased and he picked the fruit up, standing back up and starting towards his car.

He was sure to drop the apple in the Donahue's garbage can. He chewed his lip ring in concern.

Paul did not like this. He did not like this at all.

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Evangeline worked her ass off in her dance classes that day.

When she had entered, the whispering started immediately, but she only ignored it. She would not let them win; she refused to give them the satisfaction. Evangeline had a future, she was one of the few people attending summer classes that had a career in sight. She wouldn't let those who didn't work as hard as her, who weren't as talented as her, break her down.

Never.

Evangeline fought her way through her barre work. By the time class was called to an end, she was covered in sweat and her head was spinning. She slid to the floor to catch her breath and keep the room around her level. Evangeline allowed herself to chug half the bottle of water she had with her and let her pulse calm before she pushed herself off the floor and started back home.

She had improved, that was for sure. Slowly, her technique and footing and extension were coming back to her. She wasn't where she had been before, she wasn't where she should be and she was ashamed to admit that she was one of the bottom three in her class now.

But Evangeline would not stand for that. She was going to get back to where she wanted to be.

No matter what it took, no matter what it meant.

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"Evangeline, how was class?" Mrs. Donahue smiled at her daughter as she entered the kitchen.

"Fine," she mumbled back, dropping into the chair tiredly. Her stomach was panging for food and her head felt extraordinarily heavy on her shoulders.

"Are you feeling alright, dear? I know you were sick last night and you don't look so good," her mother looked at her with concern, turning away from the boiling pot on the stove in front of her. A wave of nausea took over the teenager's body as a whiff of whatever her mother was cooking reached her nose.

"I'll get better. Maybe I should just sleep," Evangeline suggested to herself and picked her aching body up from the chair.

Her mother remained silent as she exited the kitchen and headed up to her room. Evangeline was thankful that Bryan and his friends weren't over and her father was still at work, so she was free to take a fast shower and crawl into bed, finding herself much more tired and light-headed than she was accustomed to. As she curled up in bed, her comforters wrapped around her even on this hot day in the last week of June, Evangeline found that the only distracter from her angrily empty stomach was sleepso she let it envelope her body quickly.

Meanwhile, as Evangeline was laying unconsciously in her bed, her brother walked into the kitchen to be greeted by their mother.

"Hello, Bryan," Mrs. Donahue smiled. "Just you today?"

"Yeah the guys have got something to do. Where's everyone?" he glanced around the kitchen as his mother placed only two plates on the table.

"Your father will be home in about half an hour. Evangeline still isn't feeling well, so she took a shower and went to bed."

"Mom, do you think she's okay?" Bryan questioned tentatively, pushing his food around his plate.

"She's sick," she shrugged.

"No, I mean..." he trailed off. Mrs. Donahue watched him curiously but he remained silent. "I don't know. Forget it."