13
The shower beat down on Trihn’s head, blocking out the pulse hammering against her temples. Ballet had temporarily alleviated the pain and disappointment of what had happened before class, but the anger had continued to simmer just under the surface, giving her a headache.
She shut off the shower and threw back two Tylenol she’d retrieved from her dance bag. She took a swig out of her mostly empty water bottle and waited for the miracle to set in.
“T, I’m heading out. Are you ready?” Renée called.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” She wound her hair up into a tight ponytail on top of her head and then slid into the clothes she had come in—loose-fit gray shorts, a white V-neck T-shirt, and black-and-silver slipper ballet flats.
With a deep breath, she set out for the exit with Renée. They both ju
