The White Opera

In a world that’s falling apart, Lillia Jane seeks to find the light. Dancing is her soul and passion, but it isn’t always the answer to her problems. She witnessed the murder of her best friend Sophie and won’t be forgetting the feeling of isolation any time soon. Lillia’s parents have moved to Queensland for the summer so now it’s just her and her older brother Brian, as they embark on an amazing adventure through Sydney Australia.

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16. Truth Be Told

“Leap and twirl and step and twirl- damn” The same step, I always mess up on the same step. “Come on! Leap, twirl, step-”

My anger grows like a beast. I feel like a cartoon, you can see the red blood working its way up from my toes to my head. Then I explode, like a bomb in the middle of a park. Tension pulses through me as I think about dance and Lucas, and Brian, and my parents, and Sophie, and Oliver. Everything so far has been a crappy mess.

I try and control my breathing, by inhaling deeply but it isn’t working. Nothing is helping. I want to shout at people, telling them to mind their own business and just get out of my way. Then I start running, I don’t even know where I am going to go but anywhere is better than here. I almost trip over a little boy, “Get out of my way!” I scream, his mother rushes up to us and takes her boy away, looking back at me like I am filth on the bottom of her shoe. I walk away from them with my head down, my intentions were never to scare the boy.

I feel hands on my shoulders and a comforting voice in my ear, “Calm down Lillia.” I turn around to see Lucas holding me down, keeping me from running in rage. I can hear the boy’s cries above my thinking and my heart sinks.

“Come with me.” He leads me to his car and I get in the front seat beside him. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes are bloodshot red and I am panting from exhaustion.

We don’t talk at all on the way to his house, which leaves me time to sort through my actions and cool down a little. We both sit in silence that isn’t at all awkward which is nice to know that I can be around someone like that, finally we reach his house. He takes me into his room for the first time; there is a very boyish feel to the small room. Blue paint covers his four walls, a red quilt has been messily thrown on the mattress in a lame attempt to make the bed and football and debating meddles lay on his cabinet.

 “I didn’t expect you to be the debating type.” I tease.

“Oh yeah I have been doing it since third grade.” he admits looking embarrassed.

“It’s cute.” I reply before stopping myself, I still feel hot, but not because of my rage, because I am blushing terribly. With no reply I wonder if he had even heard me.

“Tell me about you.” Lucas asks, catching me off guard.

“Nothing much to say.” I respond, thinking absently about Sophie.

“There is always something.” he replies. I take a seat on his desk chair and look into his eyes, feeling a sense of security and an air of trust. I don’t want to make the same mistake I did with Oliver, but there is something so warm about Lucas, something  that makes me want to pour my heart out to him.

“Okay.” I brace myself, wondering about how much I should say, “I was born in Adelaide, when I was three years old my mum had a stroke. It was pretty serious and I was so young. I remember visiting her in the hospital sometimes. Then she came out, not very stable for a while, and with permanent damage. Dad had to take me to school lots of the time and I wasn’t very popular because I could never have people over for play dates since mum needed all the rest she could get.” Lucas sat still, listening and not interrupting, he was good at that, “I met a girl in fifth grade, her name was Sophie. We were best friends with this other girl Hannah. We were all inseparable, tanning at the beach in summer, working on homework afterschool at Sophie’s house…” I almost choke on my words as my eyes brim with tears at the thought. Somehow I still haven’t gotten over her death, I guess when you witness something like that it really spins your life around.

Lucas moves towards me and reaches for my hand, “You didn’t have to tell me that much.” he knows there is something missing, something wrong. But he doesn’t ask.

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