Chapter 7 Seven
On Monday, I only spend ten minutes with Cleo. Every time I try to talk to her, she is obsessing about the dance on Friday night.
After lunch, I catch her slipping on her pointe shoes in her bedroom.
"Hey," I greet, taking a seat on the edge of her unmade bed.
She does not look up from her feet as she muffles a greeting in reply. Then she starts to do her make-up, adding layers and layers of artificial colouring to her face. I wonder why she bothers for make-up when she is not on stage. I cannot be bothered to put on the amount of make-up that she does.
"What time will you and Adam be done practising?"
"I do not know, Gigi," she says with a sigh. "Maybe by dinner time?" Then she adds, "Are you not going to be busy practising as the understudy?"