Page 52 of Lost & Found

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, followed by an unmistakable sound.

“Are you laughing at me?” I demanded.

“Oh, God. Yes, sorry, that wasn’t very nice of me. I can’t help it though. You’re killing me. Take a deep breath.”

I rolled my eyes and wanted to tell her to get her ass down here and be my teacher. Instead, I did as she asked, and after several breaths, I was better.

“Pasha is an excellent teacher. He won’t care what you’re wearing.”

“That’s a lie because otherwise I’d be wearing pants right now. He was the one who suggested I change.”

“Put the leotard on and get out there. We believe in you, don’t we guys?”

My mortification rose ten notches as what sounded like the entire rest of the family, minus Bash, had something to say. But it was Declan who did me in.

“Aunt Izzy, you get out there right now. Grin and bear it. If I can do lessons in dance, so can you. I understand you don’t like it, but it has bene…oh blast it. It will make you more rounded and flush.”

“Flush?” I exclaimed.

More laughter erupted. “He means fluid and the other word you were looking for, sweet boy, was benefits,” Kinsley offered.

“Yeah, what Aunt Kinsley said. Benefits. You’ll get more of them. I’m not too sure what they are, but Uncle Pasha says it’s true, so I believe him.”

“Thanks, little man.”

With an air of regret and a heaping side of ‘get over it’, I said goodbye. I stepped into the leotard and tugged it up my legs, already suspicious. By the time I wrestled it over my hips, I understood why.

Borrowing spandex from someone who barely clears five feet was optimistic at best. The fabric stretched heroically across my chest. The neckline dipped in ways that suggested confidence I did not possess.

My eyes narrowed as I reached between my legs to stretch out the material a little. Was it too much to ask for a little give? Apparently it was. I let out a breath as I looked at myself in the mirror. It was giving less ‘ballerina’ and more ‘hooker’.

But that wasn’t the worst. Instant horror and regret had me questioning my sanity. The damn thing cut high. Too high in the crotch area. I should have shaved. Too late now.

“I give up,” I muttered.

Feeling at a loss as I stared down at my damned body. There was no way in hell I was going out there looking like the Beast of Bodmin Moor was coming out to play. Once more, I pulled my phone out and rang Kinsley.

“Take me off speaker, if you bear me any love at all,” I demanded as soon as she answered.

Once I was satisfied she was the only one on the other end, I spoke. “I look like I’ve got an animal shoved in this damned thing, screaming to get out. I’m mortified and honestly don’t know what to do right now.”

After another round of obnoxious laughter and having to wait three full minutes for her to calm down, she finally spoke. “I’ve never heard of that creature. What is the beast of Bodmin Moor?”

“Look it up,” I hissed.

Silence followed by what I could only assume was her Googling it. “Oh, I get it now. It’s the UK version of Big Foot.”

“Yeah, well, grooming that area isn’t high on my priority list. Shoot me. Like for real, call your grandpa and tell him you want to take a hit out. Send them now.”

“Now you hush. This is something we can fix.”

“Oh okay, you happen to have an unused razor lying around?”

“Well, no. I don’t have to shave. I had laser hair removal a long time ago. But this is still fixable. I’m pretty sure there is a skirt in my locker that you can wear over for now. But we’ll need to schedule an appointment for you. We can’t have you coming to game night looking like a hairy beast.”

A knock sounded, startling me, and I let out a yelp.

“Isabella, are you okay in there?” Pasha asked. His question had a hard edge to it. The earlier teasing was gone. Completely.