The Descendant

"Is it that good?" Desi asked, tugging my sleeve. "She told me that she's going to advance me to pointe shoes. Finally. As long as I keep doing those exercises to strengthen my ankles. And you've really made progress. I bet you're going to be the lead dancer in your class next year now that Callie's also auditioning for companies."

I swiped my cheeks and nose with the back of my hand, still staring at my plate. "She's kicking me out."

"What?" Dad bellowed.

"Eight of the eleven guys in the class said that they were going to transfer to Ms Madelyn's school if they had to dance with me. Ms Kerry's got a wait list, but mostly girls, she can't replace that many boys, and being able to offer partners for so many girls is one of the big selling points of her school," I whispered. "So I can't go back. Excuse me." I shoved away from the table and ran up the stairs to my room, where I locked myself in the bathroom and finally let it out. It had hurt too much to cry about last night. That humiliation, coupled with the one from today on top of all the rest for the past month, was just too much.

When I came out of the bathroom, Dad was waiting for me, sitting on my bed. He patted the bed, and when I slumped down, put his arm around me, smoothed my hair back, and kissed my head like he used to do when I was a kid. "I'm so sorry, Lys," he said remorsefully. "I thought the worst was over for you. I wish I could do something. What do you want to do about ballet?"

"I don't know," I muttered, taking the handkerchief he offered me.

"Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Time travel," I said hoarsely. "I wish I'd never said I wanted a damned party. You can't fix this."

"I know." Dad's voice was quiet. "I can't undo what's been done. You're being hurt because I didn't get involved and your mom is stubborn."

There really wasn't anything to say about that. Dad stayed with me for a bit longer, then left, closing the door behind him. I was glad. I hated my life right now and the last thing I needed was anybody's handwringing around. I may have to suffer through this, but I shouldn't have to have an audience.

But at least I had some things to look forward to, I thought as I curled on the bed and tried to find something in my life that hadn't completely turned to shit. On Monday I was starting summer school, taking geometry and an elective, sociology. If I took summer school for the next three years, I could cut off a semester of high school, like Iris had, and start college early. Anything had to be better than this. And I'd succeeded in finding a part time job for the summer, at a fabric store. I'd thought that if I couldn't have the kind of clothes I wanted, at least I could work around the nice fabrics. The store was being featured in a revival of some moldy old TV show where designers competed against each other for some sort of prize, and historical records from the store showed that there had been an uptick in sales as a result, both directly in the store and indirectly through shipping the fabrics to consumers, so they'd been seeking some extra help.

And tomorrow afternoon, I had an appointment with Alfred to discuss housekeeping. I envied my cousins a lot, but Alfred was probably the top of the list of reasons why. He was unafraid of showing his displeasure with misbehavior in ways large and small, even to adults, which endeared him to me a lot. Not many people did with the adults in my family. And he had ways of making you feel like he was on your side. He was just warmer than Alan, who tended to treat the house and its inhabitants like a bullet train depot that he was responsible for running smoothly and efficiently. He had a great respect for hierarchies, and kids were at the bottom of that. I didn't dislike him, exactly, but I didn't really like him despite him being Van's dad. Van herself took after her mother Aslyn in personality.

I woke up around eleven, having fallen asleep while I brooded, feeling disoriented and nauseated. I bolted to the bathroom just in time to be viciously sick until I was just dry heaving. I felt awful, so I padded downstairs and into the basement, where I passed through the bat cave. Silent tonight; either Grandpas Bruce and Xander were out, or they were taking the night off. I went past the centuries of mementos in glass display cases and exited into the corridor. When I went in to the med suite, the lights came on automatically and I was scanned. "Good evening, Miss Lys," the medical AI said in Alfred's comforting voice. "I see you have a bit of a fever, 100.9 degrees Fahrenheit. What are your other symptoms?" I described my nausea, and the AI talked me through drawing a blood sample for the analyzer. I crawled up on the table for a more detailed scan as the AI asked what I'd been doing for the past couple days. I sat up when the scan was done, then got off to get a blanket. Despite my fever, I was shivering.

"I regret to say, Miss Lys, that you appear to have a listeria infection, most likely from that hot dog you had for lunch," the AI said, and I groaned. What else could go wrong? I'd ask, but I was afraid of the answer. " Quite. You're slightly dehydrated, so I shall walk you through administering an IV, or I can summon you some help, if you'd prefer."

"I can do it," I muttered.

"I'm certain that you can," the AI said warmly, then told me where to find the IV bag, the tubing, the needle (yikes, it looked huge), and some antibiotics to put into IV. The AI had me try drinking some water first, but it wouldn't stay down, so IV administration was the way to go. I had added the medicine to the bag and managed to insert the needle into a vein on the back of my hand (not my favorite thing to do, but at least I could do it) and was sitting there waiting for the liquid to drip into me when the actual Alfred came in.

"I receive an alert whenever the suite is in use," he told me absently as he listened to a quick report from the AI, then checked my IV. "You did well with the needle, Miss Lys, especially for your first time, with no real training. I might suggest that if you allow me to use the vein in your arm that the liquid will discharge faster, helping you feel better a little sooner." And after some discussion, we went to the room down the hall where injured batmen were usually stored and he efficiently tucked me into the bed, although he left the sides of the bed down in case I needed to get to the bathroom in a hurry. It was a big bed, at least a double, so it wasn't like I was going to roll off. After I was settled, he cleaned the bend in my elbow with an alcohol wipe and deftly inserted the needle in the vein. He gave me two bags of fluids, and I started to feel a little better. And really tired; it was past midnight and it had been a crappy past couple of days.

"We shall reschedule our meeting later in the week," Alfred said as he gently disengaged the IV, although he left the needle in in case I needed more fluids later. "Delara has taken John to visit his grandparents in New Persia, and you know that Darius and Zahra attend boarding school there, it will be the first time since John went to school in Britain that they've seen each other. They are lovely people, but I have to admit that I do not care for the heat, and they are having a prolonged heat wave. I shall be available whenever you feel better and have the time from your other activities." We decided on Thursday afternoon; with the medicine available, the listeria should be cleared up in a couple of days. He made sure I had water on the table by the bed, then turned out the light and I went back to sleep. I woke up around five to use the bathroom and found that I couldn't keep water down quite yet, then went back to sleep. I woke up just after eleven; Alfred was about to reattach the line with another IV. "How are you feeling, Miss Lys?" he asked solicitously.

"Better," I said. "Thank you."

"I have informed your parents of your whereabouts," he said. "They will be down presently. Do you need to use the bathroom before I start the new IV?" So I got up and hit the potty first, and the line was reattached and the drip started.

"I do feel better," I said.

"I am pleased to hear it, Miss Lys," Alfred said, offering me some water. I tried a few sips, and when my stomach seemed friendly with it, drank more. "Excellent. I shall bring down some broth, and we shall see how that works for you."

He reappeared with my parents. Yuck. "How are you feeling, honey?" Dad asked, sitting on my bed.

"Not great, but better."

"Do you know where you picked this up?" he looked between me and Alfred.

"Probably the hot dog I had for lunch on Friday." And my eyes cut to my mother and back to my dad.

"I have informed the city's board of health, Master Daniel," Alfred informed him austerely. I sipped the mug of broth that he had brought and it tasted pretty good. After I'd finished, Alfred was of the opinion that I could go back to my room if I wanted, which I did. I liked to see out my window. So we took the elevator up and I settled back into my room. I really was feeling better. Those medicines are really amazing. They left once Alfred had produced another pitcher of water and I took another nap, after which I called the fabric store and talked to the manager. She was sorry to hear I'd gotten food poisoning and agreed that I should not come in for training Monday afternoon; it would be fine to start my training on Tuesday afternoon.

People mostly left me alone; Deri came in to see how I was doing once, and Alfred came up with some homemade chicken and noodle soup, weekends usually being Alan's time with his family. Technically, it was Alfred's too, but with his family away he liked to keep busy. Dad came in a couple of times, but I really was starting to feel a lot better. Physically, at least. I still felt fairly crushed by prior events. I took it easy Sunday too.

I went to summer school on Monday, not wanting to get behind right from the beginning. Sociology was going to be ok, it would be interesting to study how humans behaved in herds, but to my vast surprise, I thought that I would actually like geometry. I didn't go straight home after class, having stopped in a little cafe I'd visited before with my former friends for lunch. No more street food for me. I did my assigned reading when I got home and the first geometry problem set before taking a little nap.

****

Miles listened carefully to the people from the ballet company who were evaluating his performance. The first one smiled, and he smiled in response.

"You show quite a lot of promise, Miles," the woman said. The other ballet master agreed, and they discussed his audition with him.

"I attended your last recital," the artistic director said. "Excellent work. There were a few others who have potential as well. Your partner, of course, we're auditioning her later in the week. There was also another girl, the couple who were front right when the corps was on stage."

"Lysippe," Miles said, smiling. He liked his cousin and was glad that others recognized her quality too. "But I don't know if she's going to keep dancing." The smile dropped off his face.

"Why not?" the first ballet master asked. "She's obviously quite talented. I don't know if she's soloist material, but she could fit into our corps."

"Well, she'll only be a sophomore next year, so... But there was a scene at a party, and even though it wasn't her fault, she's taking the heat for it. Most of the boys in the class told Ms Kerry that they wouldn't partner her next year, they'd go to another class if she tried to make them dance with her, so she kicked Lys out." Miles was furious every time he thought about it. "And she tried to bribe Lys into keeping silent to her parents about the reasons by saying that she'd put her little sister en pointe next fall. But she's not ready. She never will be if she doesn't take her strengthening seriously."

"That's shocking," the artistic director said, looking quite shocked. "The bones of the foot aren't fully developed until the late teens, early twenties. If this girl attempts pointework without the required strength and correct technique, the forces created by the combination of body weight and momentum can damage those bones for life, setting up problems like early osteoarthritis. Even now, bone repair is a tricky subject and not all damage can be fixed."

"If I may ask, how do you know this?" the first ballet master asked.

"Lys is my cousin. She's really upset. I don't know if Deri--that's her sister--realizes that the offer was a bribe, she's precocious, but still just twelve, and like all the girls, dreams of dancing on her toes."

"I can talk to your aunt and uncle about the danger to your younger cousin," the second ballet master offered. "It's unconscionable that the offer was made before the dancer is ready. They should at least understand the dangers before allowing her to continue."

"Thank you. I'll give you my uncle's contact information. My aunt is pretty busy at work right now." And Miles was grateful for his own parents. They weren't perfect by any stretch of imagination, but they always paid attention to their kids.

"It's a shame about the older girl, though," the artistic director said. "But perhaps she'll join another class. I can recommend some good teachers to your uncle."