Olympiczero

Thank you - and I honestly can't believe you are reading my story. Big fan of yours! I fixed that paragraph, and tried to be mindful when drafting this next chapter. I'll add it to my list of things to revise as I work back on older chapters. Very grateful for the tips. The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 20 "WHYYYYY" Isabelle was almost shouting. It was happening again, of course. "I can't deal with this anymore!" Isabelle sat up in her bed, wanting nothing more than to cry. But there was work to do, unfortunately. Fortunately, this time, at the very least, not as much of a cover up needed to take place. 'I suppose I should be somewhat proud of myself...' Isabelle thought. And surprisingly, she was. Isabelle had clenched her bladder at the precise moment it had started releasing. Unlike last night, Isabelle was wearing pajama bottoms as well. Without another moment's hesitation, Isabelle popped out of bed to assess the damage once more. 'Once more...' Isabelle's first instinct was to look down. She could tell based on the warm, wet moisture sticking to her legs that her panties were quite wet. Isabelle pulled at one of the sparkly hearts near her groin, lifting her pants up to get a better look at them from underneath. They too were quite wet, but at the very least, they weren't sopping. 'This might be manageable.' Isabelle was bouncing from one foot to the other, desperate to get to the bathroom. But she wasn't done. She needed to continue to assess her...accident. Isabelle looked toward the bed, moving the sheets and comforter further off to see how bad it was. 'Wow." was all Isabelle could say. Her bed, at least, was largely dry. 'I supposed that's the advantage to pajama bottoms,' Isabelle thought, as she identified one, 4-6 inch wet spot on the bed. Isabelle bounced her way to the corner of the bed by the headboard, and pulled the fitted sheet up to examine the mattress. 'Even better!' Isabelle almost exclaimed out loud. 'It didn't seem to make it through at all.' Isabelle left the fitted sheet folded up, sure to not leave it pressed against the mattress, before shifting her way as quickly as possible back to the bathroom, pulling off her pants and soaking wet panties, and throwing her butt down on the toilet, before releasing all of her remaining pee. 'I actually did a really good job holding it! That could have been so much worse' Isabelle told herself proudly, completely unaware of the irony of her statement. As she sat on the toilet, Isabelle devised a plan of action for her bedroom. There would, of course, be no time to do any laundry before she left for school. So she would have to cover up the accident, and then find time to do the laundry after. Isabelle decided the best course of action would be to simply remove the fitted sheet, and stuff it somewhere her mom wouldn't find it, make the bed so there was no reason to come in, and deal with it later. 'It's a good plan.' Isabelle took the opportunity to brush her teeth while there, and wash her face. Looking at herself in the mirror, Isabelle was taken aback by the prominence of her freckles, seemingly returning more every day. She had missed them dearly, she recalled, when they had faded through high school. It brought a smile to her face to have them back. Isabelle had always felt that they were one of her best features, and they made her feel cute. Her smile revealed the presence of her dimples, and she quickly abandoned her spot in front of the mirror. Returning to her room, Isabelle did precisely what she had planned; she stripped her bed of the bottom sheet, and then made the bed the best she could, using her plethora of pillows to conceal any portion of the mattress that wasn't covered by her purple top sheet. Satisfied, Isabelle turned back to her closet to get ready for the day. Today, Isabelle thought, she would get ready for ballet before they left for school. It's what she used to do anyway, when she had dance in the mornings. Opening her closet, Isabelle felt as though she was confronted with a stranger's closet. Gone were her series of black, white, blush, and for specific dance routines, some solid colored leotards, hanging on her racks. In their place were a series of leotards that, well, stood out more. Some black, white, and blush ones still remained, but they made up a few smaller portion of her options. And even then, those all contained some sort of pattern, or design, or interesting or fun cut. What really stood out, however, was the number of solid and multi-colored leotards - reds, pinks and purples, blues, greens and even yellow ones. Many had flowers, others had fringe. Some had jewels, and even others with bows. Isabelle stared at her closet confused. Confused - but undeterred. She was not upset. She was not shocked by the colors, by the designs, by the juvenile nature of many of the leotards. Instead, her mind was simply trying to place them - where had she bought these? how long had she had them? when was the last time she wore them? - all questions she was asking herself. It was the questions she wasn't asking herself that were most striking, however - where are my leotards? Why are these so childish? Who do these really belong to? - the last one being the most critical, perhaps. In fact, not a single one of those questions even occurred to her. It was as if she had lost the ability to challenge the transformation. And while a struggle was taking place in her head, Isabelle was no longer fighting for one side over the other. The battle was taking place without her participation. It was unclear which side won that battle, if any. All Isabelle could tell you happened was that she reached out for a solid lavender leotard with short sleeves. It had a U-shaped dip in the back, that about halfway through was connected by a cute bow. 'This is cute," was all Isabelle said, before dropping it on her bed, and going over to her dresser, pulling on a pair of plain white tights, and slipping into her leotard. Isabelle felt no need to wear a bra with the outfit - the leotard was supportive enough. Content - well not just content, but feeling cute - Isabelle tied her hair up in a neat bun, before slipping into her ballet slippers, and grabbing a plain, grey zip up to wear over her clothes. Isabelle packed her ballet bag with clothes for the afternoon - a grey long sleeve shirt with a rainbow at the heart, and plain black leggings - before grabbing her school bag and heading downstairs. 'I've done what I can here....I'll deal with this later. Isabelle made her way downstairs to have some breakfast. She opened the front door to grab the newspaper, hoping to play a game or two in it while she ate. Jane was not downstairs yet, so Isabelle made her way over to the coffee machine to get it started. After she was done with that, she poured herself a bowl of cereal, and opened up the newspaper to the game section while she munched away at her breakfast. Isabelle was having particular trouble with the sudoku that morning. 'I've barely filled in a single number,' she thought to herself, as she scratched out a "4" she had placed in a row and column each already having the same number. Every time she stared at the puzzle, she grew more frustrated. "What the heck! This is impossible," Isabelle said to no one in particular. She was not having fun at all. Rather than stop, she spotted, in the corner of her eye, another game. It was a silly game the newspaper always included, and which Isabelle largely ignored. Basically, there were two images, one on top of the other, and you were required to spot the differences. It was basically a form of I-Spy, and the few times Isabelle had played it, she grew bored rather quickly. But today, as she spotted it, she felt a warmth emanating from her feet, and spreading across her body. She wanted to do it today. Isabelle switched gears and started trying to find the differences in the pictures. The image appeared to be that of a baby's nursery. Isabelle spotted several differences right away - a missing rattle on the floor, a bottle of baby powder missing, an extra bar on the crib. But the others were far more difficult to find. Just as Isabelle spotted another - a teddy bear with a missing ear - her mom emerged from behind her, giving her a kiss on the head. "Good morning sweetie. Look at all the differences you found - good job. I think there's a few more though," Jane said, before moving to the coffee machine and pouring herself a cup. Jane then turned the machine off, before dumping out the excess. "Thanks for making this sweetie, but its too much. I only have time for one cup this morning." Isabelle couldn't start her protest before it was too late - the coffee was gone. "MOM! I wanted some!! Why did you do that?" Isabelle was genuinely upset. She had looked forward to that coffee. Jane turned to her daughter, surprised by her angry reaction. "No Sweetie. No coffee for you. You are far too young for this. You'll become an addict - trust me," Jane said, trying to lighten the mood, as she poured the sweet nectar down her throat. Isabelle couldn't do anything but watch jealously, before her mom re-engaged her, this time on a topic she did not want to discuss. "Did you not sleep well last night? Was anything...wrong?" Jane asked, curiously, and leaving the floor open for Isabelle. Isabelle blushed at the thought. Sure, there wasn't exactly a major problem like the night prior. But a problem there was. 'Just continue to play the part until you solve this,' Isabelle reminded herself. "I slept fine mom. Nothing was wrong. I just....I just wanted coffee." Jane smiled to herself. Her little girl was growing up, obviously. 'Just not too fast,' Jane thought to herself, hopeful. "Maybe one day sweetheart. Now go get your bags - lets head to school." Isabelle nodded, shoveling the last of her cereal into her mouth, before hopping off of the stool she was on, and making her way to the door. "Mom can you please keep the page I was on - I'm still missing two differences. I want to look later." Isabelle was convinced she could find them, and as she asked, her slippers sent another blast of warmth through her body, reinforcing her confidence. *** School on Tuesday went much like the day prior. Isabelle had arrived at the girls' locker rooms earlier today, and immediately went to a bathroom stall to relieve herself. Once again, she was surprised her system was so....'...er...regular...,' - even without the coffee - as she embarrassingly pooped in front of far too many people than she liked to. Fortunately, no one said anything. Isabelle stayed on the toilet a little longer, forcing herself to pee, before getting up and going out toward class. Much like the day prior, Mel spotted her and immediately wrapped her arms around Isabelle. 'This girl is a hugger,' Isabelle concluded. Isabelle chatted with Mel briefly before class, significantly letting her know that "oh! by the way my mom said I can come over on Friday," much to Mel's glee. Class that morning transpired much like it had the day prior. Isabelle warmed up with Mel and small girl - who she learned that morning went by Natalie - before doing group exercises. After that, the girls were put into teams - Isabelle was partnered with Mel and Natalie - before being given a brief tutorial on new choreography that they were to work on, and perform the following day. These types of exercises were common, and Isabelle liked working with others. She smiled knowing that she was with a group of girls that she knew at least, and they spent the rest of the morning working on the choreography. Isabelle noted that Natalie was not quite as able as Mel, who while also quite good, was not at Isabelle's level either. It made performances challenging when you had stronger and weaker dancers - the purpose of the choreography was to look in sync. It was important as a dancer to make sure not to outdance your partner - it was critical to the performance. These were skills that middle schoolers focused on, and learned to use subtle techniques in order to ensure that the performance of a whole was never jeopardized at the expense of the performance of one egotistic individual. Isabelle didn't mind - it was not about her, and these girls were sweet. After another two hours of practice, Mel, Isabelle, and Natalie had arrived at a decent performance. "Let's reserve some time this afternoon here though, and just work out the kinks before tomorrow," Natalie had proposed. Isabelle nodded - Natalie was obviously nervous to be the weakest dancer, and there was as much pressure on her to dance up as there was on Isabelle to hit a good tone with hers. "Sounds great to me" Isabelle said enthusiastically, before adding "I'm having trouble with some of the second part of the choreography. You seem to have a better grasp Natalie - you'll have to walk me through it." Isabelle thought the second part on to encourage the sweet little girl, and it seemed to have the intended effect. "Okay. But now lunch," Mel announced. Mel sort of reminded Isabelle a bit of Dani - she was quirky, fun, sweet, and above all, focused on the next meal. Isabelle had been ready for this today. Isabelle had a plan, and it needed to be executed. She would not be distracted by her friends today. "Sorry Mel! I actually need to go to the library to collect some things. The....uh.........I got some of the wrong textbooks for classes, and they have spares there. I'll have to meet you later." Isabelle had formulated the excuse in the car ride over with her mom. It was solid, and made sense. Dani and Lola always understood that Isabelle needed to borrow copies of the textbooks at the library, rather than buy her own books. Even for middle and high school, the books got expensive, and buying new wasn't an option. Isabelle's only concern, however, was that these girls' wouldn't know about her...financial differences. But as the words escaped her mouth in the dressing room, the same supportive smile that Dani and Lola offered her every time the subject of money came up appeared on Mel, Natalie - and now Ras, who had joined them on their way to the locker room - collective faces. Isabelle knew that face, and knew they understood. "Makes sense," Mel said, ending the conversation. Isabelle changed quickly, said goodbye to her girls, and made her way to the library as quickly as possible. She was not sure what she was looking for, all she knew is that she would be looking for books on the brain. It was a good place to start, if indeed she was in a coma. Isabelle was walking toward the library when it hit her - 'This is the way to the high school library.' Though students could request books at either library, the school had separate libraries for the two sets of schools. It was designed to protect the older, 9th-12th grade students from the often noisier, 6th-8th graders, who might otherwise interrupt their important studies. The middle school library was considerably smaller, as most students did their work at home, if they had any. Isabelle realized she wouldn't be allowed in there, and began retracing her steps backward toward her age-appropriate library. 'No time to waste. I can still get any book,' Isabelle thought, as she made her way hastily in the other direction, toward her new destination. Isabelle pushed the double sided doors into the library. Not knowing exactly where to look, Isabelle decided to go straight to the librarian's desk, to seek help. As she approached it, a kind middle aged woman smiled at her, "Hi Isabelle! I was wondering when you would be coming back in here, you little book worm." Isabelle was taken aback. She had no idea who this woman was, but apparently, she knew Isabelle. "Ya....haha..." Isabelle responded, before making her query. "I'm actually looking for something a little different," Isabelle started, supposing it was true. "I am looking for a book on brains." Isabelle regretted it the minute she made request. It sounded preposterous. 'Brains! Seriously Belly?' she thought to herself, not even realizing how she had addressed herself. "Brains?" the librarian repeated back, as if tracking her thoughts. "Well....what kind of book are you looking for on brains sweetie?" This woman was nice, but Isabelle felt that, based on her tone, she wasn't taking Isabelle very seriously. She would need to adjust. And Isabelle was prepared to do so. "Sorry. I meant on brain diseases. I have....a....a family member. Who is sick. With a brain disease. Yes. And I would like to learn more." When Isabelle had rehearsed this in her head, it had gone far smoothly. But based on the librarian's reaction, it seemed to have worked. "Oh well I'm so sorry you're going through that Isabelle. Let me see what I can find," the librarian responded, before working on her computer. After a few minutes of waiting, a few "hmhmm" and "ahhhahahs" from the librarian, she turned back to Isabelle. "So, we don't have anything in this library, but the senior library has a book for the AP biology class called 'Brain & Neurological Disorders,' that might have what you're looking for. Only....." 'That sounds perfect!' Isabelle thought, 'But why the hesitation?' Isabelle wanted that book. "That's the one I want! Only what? What's the problem?" Isabelle asked, far more excitingly than she had wanted. In fact, she was practically screaming. "SHHHH Isabelle. You cant make noise like that here," the librarian responded. "I was going to say that the textbook may be....very difficult for you to read and understand. Its meant for 12th grade students, not 8th grade students. You may struggle to understand it. As I was looking, I think I found something that will help you better. And its right here!" The librarian turned around and went to the stacks behind her, pulling out a large textbook with animated pictures of a boy and girl on the front. It read, simply, "Basic biology: Everything from your toes to your top" The librarian brought it over, scanning it, before handing it off to Isabelle. "This will be better, and I know for a fact it touches on a lot of different illnesses, including brain issues. AND, you'll actually understand it. Bring it back in a week please" Isabelle wanted to throw a fit, to demand the book that she mentioned, 'Brain and Ner-oh-something disorganizers, or whatever it was,' Isabelle thought. But what was the use? If the librarian said this had the information she was looking for, and already said she wouldn't get the other book, she had no choice. Rather than give in to her bare instinct, Isabelle smiled and thanked the librarian, taking the book with her to long community table where a few other students were reading. Isabelle sat down, opened the book to the index at the front, and started searching for anything she could find. Isabelle scrolled rapidly though the various chapters - 'Your Body Is Changing - What's up with that?,' 'Wow! I'm getting bigger - what are hormones?,' and 'Blood: everyone has a type' did not appear like promising places. Nor did the topic of "Bones - not just for Dogs!' or 'Hair, Hair, Everywhere!'....'What kind of book is this?' Isabelle asked herself. Just when she was about to give up, she came upon it - "Your Thinking Cap: How the Brain Works, and Why it Sometimes Doesn't!" "THAT'S IT!" Isabelle shouted, resulting in another "SHHHHHUSSHHHH" from the librarian. Isabelle identified the page ranges - 180-222 - and quickly started flipping to the middle of the book. But before she could, an alarm went off. .... Well, not that kind of alarm. The school bell to be more exact. It was informing her it was time to get to afternoon classes. Isabelle groaned, 'this will have to wait until tonight,' not realizing how much time had passed. Isabelle folded her book up, put in her bag, and shuffled off to class. Classes that afternoon were no better than the day before. If anything, they felt even more challenging. While Isabelle was flourishing at dance, she was really not starting off well with her academics. Everything just felt so complicated. 'It's as if everything is written in another language.' Just trying to process the information was stressful, and by the time the last bell of the day rang off, Isabelle felt utter relief. 'How on earth am I going to balance dance, these insane classes, and investigate all these brain thingies!' Isabelle asked herself. 'No one said this was going to be easy,' Isabelle reminded herself, '....but no one said it was going to this hard either...I wish Rover Roo was here to help. He'd solve this.' Isabelle was broken out of her melancholy by Mel, who tapped her on the shoulder, reminding her to meet them in the small ballet studio. Mel had reserved some time this afternoon, only for 30 minutes, so they needed to be quick. Isabelle nodded. She had confirmed with her mom she was staying late with Mel and Natalie. Jane had sent back a thumbs up emoji. Isabelle updated her that she would be ready to leave around 5:30, before making her way back to the girls changing room to get ready. It only occurred to Isabelle, as she entered the room, that the 12th graders were still wrapping up. Hopeful she might find Dani and Lola, Isabelle jogged toward the last row of lockers, only to find that no one was there. Rather than get down on herself, Isabelle stripped down quickly, and got dressed in her somewhat gross and sweaty tights, leotard, and slippers, before again trying her hair in to a messy bun. Isabelle stashed her bags in a locker, and made her way to the small studio to practice with her friends. It was a great idea, in the end, that Natalie had insisted on this practice. While the girls had largely put together the choreography and timings in class, by the end of their extra work, they had really improved their performance as a whole. "Wow - okay. I think we have it. This is going to go great tomorrow!" Natalie said, as the three fell to the floor huffing and puffing for air. "I agree." Mel added, between breaths. "If I can still move tomorrow, that is." Isabelle knew how she felt. While it got easier each year, when the dancing had really started picking up in middle school, she remembered having trouble adjusting, her body always aching. Isabelle hadn't felt like this in a long time - really sore. Everything hurt. Everything, that is, except for her feet, which continued to feel fantastic in her slippers. The slippers gave her the confidence to do anything, and any time Isabelle doubted her skill, she simply let the slippers take over, and before she knew it, had executed the next steps perfectly. 'I can't thank mom enough for these. They have changed my life for good!' Isabelle thought to herself. A ring went off and Isabelle checked her phone - it was not her, but it was almost 5:30 now, so she wouldn't have time to change. It was Mel's phone instead, who let the girls know that her brother was waiting for her and left in a hurry. Isabelle said goodbye to Natalie, who let Isabelle know she was going to shower before getting picked up. Isabelle made her way to the locker room quickly with Natalie, grabbed her bags, and then walked out the middle school entrance. Isabelle spotted her mom's car instantly, and went over to the trunk to drop her bags. Isabelle closed the trunk, and made her way to the front of the car, before her mom rolled down the window. "You have to get in the back sweetie. I have too much stuff up here." Isabelle thought nothing of it, climbing in the back as well. "No problem mom. Thanks for getting me later." Jane smiled, looking over her daughter, and she buckled in and let her feet dangle over the floor, just barely making contact with the car mats. "My pleasure sweetie. How was school today? Anything interesting?" Isabelle told her mom about her day as she always did. She struggled in class again; she excelled in dance, and; very luckily, she got paired with Mel and Natalie for her group project for the next day. "We really nailed down the performance tonight, only now I'm exhausted." Jane smiled. It sounded like Isabelle had a better day. She only felt bad that she was struggling with classes so far. 'She's a smart girl, she'll get the hang of it soon.' Jane thought. "Don't put too much pressure on yourself baby, you'll get the schoolwork. You're my little genius!" Jane said, encouraging her daughter. At the very least, it brought a smile to her daughter's face, which Jane caught in the rearview. 'Maybe a boost of confidence will help her with....well everything." Jane concluded. Isabelle felt better talking to her mom - she always did. And it came easy. It had always just been the two of them, and they always had each other's backs. Isabelle was reminded of the secrets she was keeping from her - both big picture and small. For some reason, she felt more guilty about hiding her completely unexpected and out of the ordinary and just mistake accidents she had the prior two nights, more so than the coma issue she felt she was dealing with. 'Mom could at least help with the former...maybe. And then I wouldn't have to deal with it alone.' The idea, in principle, was nice. But 18 year ol- .....'14 year olds, I suppose....' Isabelle corrected herself, don't wet the bed. It was not something she could come to terms with herself. Not something she would come to terms with. Isabelle climbed out of the back of the car before going to the trunk and grabbing her bags. They felt like two massive weights on her shoulders. Isabelle really was tired. It would likely be an early night. Isabelle dropped her bags at the foot of the door, before going into the living room, and collapsing on the couch. She had fond memories of this couch - it was where her mom had given her the slippers. Isabelle, hanging upside down on the couch with her feet in the air, starred at the slippers. They looked just as beautiful today as the day she got them, the ribbons coiled around her ankles, securing her safely. Isabelle smiled - she was always happy in her slippers. Her reprieve was interrupted. "Isabelle - Bags upstairs. And shower - you stink!" Jane, said playfully. "Right now young lady. We have a rotisserie chicken and I'd rather eat it warm. Up Up." Isabelle rolled over to the side, resigned to comply with her mother's marching orders. "Okay momm-..mom." Isabelle said, embarrassed. Isabelle quickly gathered her things, which felt like massive weights, and made her way upstairs, turning to her right, and dumping them in her room. Isabelle took off her slippers, placing them delicately in the closet, before pulling off her leotard and tights, and tossing them in the laundry basket. Isabelle made her way into the shower, letting herself soak in the warm water. Her body ached, and the warm, soothing liquid made her sore muscles content. Isabelle stood motionless for at least 10 minutes, just letting her mind go thoughtless, her body relax. She was finally able to relax for the first time today. And it felt perfect. Without thinking, and before she knew it, Isabelle realized she had started peeing. Isabelle was panicked for a second, before realizing she was just in the shower - it didn't matter. But it was the fact that she had absolutely no idea that it was coming that occupied her mind. 'Probably just because I'm in here - I knew I could pee here' Isabelle concluded, before letting herself continue to soak and pee, without a care in the world. Eventually, Isabelle realized she would need to get out. She quickly shampooed her hair, and washed her body with the nearby bar of soap, before rinsing off, and enjoying the warm water for one more minute, before shutting it off. Isabelle returned to her room, before electing to get straight into her pajamas. After the past few nights, and the hard work she did today, Isabelle was already tired, and it was not even 7 PM. That said, there was no point in getting two sets of clothes dirty before bed, and she always loved her PJs. Whether it was the house, or the hot shower, Isabelle was feeling rather warm, so she opted for a sleeping dress instead of a full set. Isabelle dried herself off, and let her towel fall to the ground, before stepping over to her dresser and pulling out a pair of white and pink stripped panties, and sliding them up her legs. Isabelle then dug through her PJ drawer, and pulled out an olive colored sleeping dress with white rabbits and blue polka dots on it, slipping it on over her head, and letting it fall to under her knees. Isabelle combed her hair quickly, before letting it fall to the side, and heading downstairs. Jane had already set up two spots on the counter for them to eat. When Isabelle walked in, Jane smiled, "feeling better sweetie?" She asked Isabelle, as she set down two plates with chicken on them, and some steamed vegetables. Isabelle was starving, having skipped lunch to find her library book. Though the mission was a success, her hunger likely contributed to her exhaustion. "Yes, much! The water was so soothing. I was so relaxed, I even.." 'WHAT ARE YOU SAYING ISABELLE,' she thought to herself, before the next words left her mouth. 'What a weird thing to share.' Isabelle gathered her thoughts, quickly finishing the sentence "I even...forgot I was standing there and just..uh...fell asleep standing up kind of." That was better, even if ridiculous, Isabelle concluded, before sitting next to her mom. "Well okay. Early bed tonight too. Are you sure you are sleeping well sweetie? Jane asked, inviting her daughter to tell her anything. Isabelle didn't want to get into it, and simply replied "Yes" before inhaling her chicken. "Thanks for dinner mom. I'm starffing," Isabelle said, with a full mouth of chicken. Jane could only laugh. "Okay sweetie. Just slow down. Don't choke," before returning to her food to start as well. "Oh," Jane continued, "I kept the newspaper like you asked. It's right here so you can finish your I-Spy." Isabelle smiled. She had forgotten about that. It had been such a long day. So, as she wrapped up her dinner, and casual conversation with her mom, Isabelle pulled the paper back in front of her, looking desperately hard for the missing two differences. After almost 30 minutes of searching, Isabelle managed to find one more - a box of diapers, or pullups, or something on a changing table shelf. Content she had found one more - Isabelle disputed there were six like the puzzle said - Isabelle said goodnight to her mom, letting her know she was going to go up and read before bed. It was already 8:40, and Isabelle was feeling tired. Isabelle climbed the stairs and decided, before she sat down in her bed to read, to go to the bathroom. It turned out to be the smart decision as she did in fact need to go. Isabelle wiped, and washed her hands, before going into her room. Isabelle immediately went for her bag, and pulled out her biology book from the library. Isabelle took the book over to her desk, and sat down, and flipped the book open to page 180. Isabelle started glossing over the start, but upon doing so, thought it might be best to read it a little more in depth. 'It's offering a lot of basic information that might be helpful later,' Isabelle thought, and she started reading: 'The brain is like the boss of the body - it controls everything we do! It's a big, squishy organ that sits inside our skull and has many different parts that work together. The brain is responsible for processing all the information we receive from our senses, such as sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell. It also helps us move our muscles and organs, and is responsible for our thoughts, emotions, and memories.' 'Huh,' Isabelle thought to herself. I never considered that the brain is responsible for taste - I always thought that was just my mouth.' Isabelle was genuinely learning, and enjoyed it. She pressed on: 'The brain has two main halves, called the left and right hemispheres, and each side has different functions. The left side is responsible for language, logic, and analytical thinking, while the right side is more creative and intuitive. Overall, the brain is an incredibly complex and amazing organ that allows us to experience the world around us and navigate our daily lives.' 'Okay, so two sides. I wonder which side would be responsible for everything that's happening to me.' Isabelle started to think. "Everything that is happening is illogical - I shouldn't be getting younger. I should read more about the left side maybe? Even though the right side sounds cooler....' Isabelle thought to herself. Isabelle continued to pour over the introduction pages to the textbook, but they were dense, and had all sorts of words Isabelle didn't understand. The introduction was loaded with terms like "synapse, myelin, hippo-something, and cortex.' It was all very complicated, and Isabelle found herself reading over the same parts over and over in an effort to understand it. Isabelle had hardly cleared 4 pages when she checked her phone, and saw it was almost 10 PM. Yawning, Isabelle picked up her phone, and made sure her alarms were set, before making her way to bed. 'No more problems tonight. This time for sure.' Isabelle laid her extra pillows down gently on the side of the bed, before pulling the covers back, and then pulling her pink polka dotted sheets back as well, and climbing into the bed. Isabelle grabbed Rabbity, tucking Rabbity close, before pulling her sheets and covers over her, and settling in for the night. It was time to go to sleep. But as Isabelle laid there, something was off. It wasn't enough to keep her from settling in, but it was enough to keep her up, just long enough, just seconds before falling asleep, to wake her right up. It was something she had forgotten about, in all the events of the day. Something she only noticed now. Her sheets had been changed.

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 19 "You were fantastic Belly." Mel had taken the locker next to Isabelle's to change in. The two were sitting there, getting into their regular school clothes. They had just watched each girl in their class complete their "summer assignments," or whatever it was. All Isabelle knew was that she had done an adequate enough job to garner some compliments from her classmates, and to not arouse suspicion from Ms. Lazard. "Thanks....Mel." Isabelle responded, before slipping her top back on. Isabelle had contemplated showering, but the truth was, she wanted to maximize her time in the library. Her plan was still on, albeit with adjustments. She would need to find Dani and Lola, and figure out if they still remembered her. She would not be able to do this without them. 'I need them. No matter what.' "Wanna grab lunch now?" Mel proposed to Isabelle. Isabelle starred at her, 'well my friend I guess,' considering the proposal. Isabelle was starring at her feet, debating as to whether to change into her sneakers or stay in her slippers. ' I don't want to ruin them....but I WANT to wear them....' Isabelle thought better of it, and swapped the slippers for her sneakers, not wanting to risk any damage to them, before turning her attention back to Mel and nodding. "Yah, that sounds great," Isabelle replied, noting she was indeed hungry. "Let me just pee first." Isabelle was not about to risk another...episode. Isabelle made her way to the same toilet stall she had used before, smiling at her new classmates along the way. It was frustrating, no doubt, to be forced into this situation. But it was a small comfort that everyone was so nice, everyone was so welcoming and kind to her. It made it all...'..not so bad actually.' Isabelle begrudgingly hid a smile. 'It still doesn't make this all...okay. Or good. I need to figure it out.' Isabelle sat down on the toilet, and much to her surprise, did in fact pee. 'I didn't even realize I had to go...' Isabelle wiped, and made her way out to her friend, who grabbed her by the hand, and started pulling her toward the cafeteria. "Come on Belly! There won't be any tater tots left at this rate." Mel's enthusiasm was contagious, and Isabelle again found herself smiling. Rather than resist, Isabelle smiled, clutched this strange girl's hand, and skipped off toward the cafeteria with her, giggling along the way. As Mel and Isabelle rounded the last corner into the cafeteria, Isabelle caught something in the corner of her eye; It was Dani and Lola, walking down the hall in the opposite direction. But just as she started to call them - Dani! Lol-" Mel had yanked her through the cafeteria doors, and into toward the line to get lunch. If Dani and Lola heard her, Isabelle would not have known. But Mel's next remark surprised her a bit "You'll see them later. For now, we eat!" Isabelle was slightly confused this new girl's proclamation. 'See them later? Why would this Mel know I'm friends with Dani and Lola?" Isabelle and Mel trudged through the line, continuing to talk about the morning's dance class. In truth, Isabelle was glad for it; she didn't know what the hell she would have to talk about with this girl, other than dance. And, the last thing she wanted at this stage was for this rando to discover what was happening to her - 'no one knows. I'm sure as heck not telling her.' Isabelle was handed a foil wrapped warm lunch - it smelled delicious - and much to her excitement, there were still plenty of tots left, and she was handed a basket right after Mel. Mel turned to her and smiled, "see? This is why we get here early you dingus!" Isabelle couldn't help but laugh, as Mel led her to a table with a few other girls Isabelle recognized from the class. Isabelle sat down next to Mel, as cute Indian girl, with gorgeous dark hair, and another girl who was much smaller than Isabelle, but someone in their class, also waved toward her and Mel. Isabelle smiled back, and waited for information. And information she received. "Hey Ras." Mel started, speaking to the Indian girl. "You were great this morning!" Ras smiled. "Thanks! you were both so great, I wish I could dance as well as you two." Isabelle smiled. The compliment was genuine. And this Ras girl was good - she had extremely long, strong legs. 'She'll grow into a great dancer,' Isabelle assessed. The fourth girl's name didn't come up immediately, much to Isabelle's disappointment. Isabelle opened her foiled lunch to find a really nice looking chicken breast and some sauce. It smelled of mangoes and citrus, and Isabelle started appreciating how hungry she was, digging in immediately. It was not the best idea to miss breakfast. The girls continued chatting away about classes they would have in the afternoon. Mel was nervous about the math class - "algebra and geometry terrify me!" Mel's fear was genuine. Isabelle smiled to herself. 'At least that part of school will be easy, having already done it. I remember how worried I was abo-......" But that was just it. Isabelle couldn't finish her sentence, only because she couldn't remember ever taking that class. Sitting here, in the cafeteria, in this moment, Isabelle tried her very best - and tried hard - to remember that class, to remember the subjects, the teachers, the material. But none of it - not one second of it existed in her memories. It was as though she had never taken the class at all. Isabelle started to get nervous. She pulled out her schedule from her bag, and started reviewing the classes she had. There was "English Literature," there was "History III," and there was "Geography." Isabelle knew that she had taken these classes as well........'but also I can't remember any of them either. What on earth?" Isabelle continued reviewing each class, and with each one, it was the same result. She had no memory of any of it. Isabelle was no longer feeling a little nervous - she was getting a lot nervous. Apparently, Mel had picked up on it. The girl wrapped her arm around Isabelle, pulling her in tight for a side hug. Mel had sensed Isabelle's nervousness, chalking it up to normal nerves about classes. "It'll be okay Izzy. We're in it together." Something about Mel's statement made Isabelle's fear dissipate away. 'This girl seems to be a nice friend. I should start treating her as one." Isabelle's nervous belly settled, and she opted to refocus her attention on eating her food, remaining silent as the girls continued to discuss classes. Once the subject was exhausted, Isabelle wondered where the topic might shift. And shift it did. "So, what's everyone's theory on who stole the crystal wand?!" Mel had thrown the subject out there, as though this was fair game to discuss already. Isabelle couldn't help herself - the words escaped her mouth before she could think "AHHH no spoilers Mel! I'm not done reading the book yet." It felt so natural, but her friends' reaction was not - the three of their jaws literally gaped open. Ras was first to speak. "How. How have you not finished it?!?! I couldn't put it down! You're nuts!" Mel, and small girl chimed in with similar thoughts. "You're the biggest Emerald Chronicle fan I know! Bigger than me, and that's saying something" Mel added, with a chuckle "How did YOU not finish it?!?" Isabelle's reaction was as natural as it was when she spoke with Dani and Lol. She felt at ease with these girls. "I don't know! I had to babysit this weekend. I didn't have time...AND last week I had to practice for the dance..." Isabelle almost mentioned the showcase, but thought better of it. "Ughh Fine." small girl added. "Well, we can at least talk about the beginning. I was SHOCKED when it turned out when Henrietta made an appearance. I was sure those wolves finished her off....Must be nice to have the powers of the Elves of Maddash and all..." Everyone nodded - including Isabelle. 'Why wouldn't I nod? It would be awesome to have those powers. Small girl is right!' The next 40 minutes passed as the girls laughed, 'ooooo-ed,' 'awwww-ed' and shrieked talking about their collective favorite book. Isabelle had been nervous about what she would talk to these girls about, but she didn't need to be, it turned out. And it felt great - she never got to talk to anyone about the Emerald Chronicles. After Henrietta, they shifted to the battle at the gemstone caverns, and then delved into the mysteries of the Library at Heathstone. It was glorious. Some people just didn't appreciate fine literature. 'It's nice that at least these sophisticated girls do!' Isabelle told herself. Before she knew it, the bell had rung, signaling the end of lunch for the 6th-8th grade students, and the start of senior lunch for 9th-12th grade. Isabelle couldn't believe it "I was supposed to spend all of lunch in the library!' She had, unfortunately, been distracted by her new...'well maybe not new, but...uh...rekindled!' friends and their conversation about the Emerald Chronicles. Nevertheless, Isabelle was disappointed with herself. She had failed in her plan. Before she knew it, Isabelle was hand-in-hand with Mel again, which brought her comfort despite her disappointment. Off they went together to their math class, before Isabelle even had a chance to consider staying behind to see Dani and Lola. Before they went in, Isabelle excused herself again, reminding herself that going to pee was essential. The last thing she would let happen would be.....'oh god. its not even thinkable.' Isabelle went to the bathroom, peed quickly again, and made her way back to class, taking a spot next to Mel that her friend had saved her, against the far window covered wall. The afternoon passed dramatically fast. Isabelle jumped from one class to the next, without a moment's hesitation. The classes were generally packed tightly together, leaving little time to do anything between. Isabelle took each opportunity to go back to the bathroom, peeing each time. More strikingly, the classes were hard. Isabelle did not remember any of them, and though she was an 18 year old in class with 14 year olds, it felt like her classmates were much better prepared and well versed with the new material than she was. Isabelle struggled mightily in math, and history was no better. The maps they looked at in geography came a little more clearly, if only because Isabelle had become so astute at reading maps from the Emerald Chronicles. But the rest of her classes were all incredibly difficult, and they left Isabelle a little distressed. She was grateful to have the same class schedule as Mel - Isabelle really liked the sweet girl. 'When I solve what's happened, I'll make sure to find her and mentor her, I suppose,' Isabelle had planned out for herself. The end of the day could not come soon enough. Isabelle checked her phone as she left her last class, to confirm that her mom was in fact planning on coming to pick her up. As she was doing so, Mel grabbed her by the hand again, spinning Isabelle to face in her direction. "So. Obviously the girls are coming over on Friday to watch the series premiere of Emerald Chronicles. You'll be there, right? And you'll stay over right? And just make sure to actually finish the Everlasting Night before you come - we have SO MUCH MORE TO DISCUSS!!" Mel was practically bouncing as she extended the invitation. Isabelle had to use all of her strength to resist simply blurting out a "YES!" It was, however, what she had wanted to do. Isabelle knew the show was coming out, but in all the chaos of the last few weeks, she had forgotten the precise date. 'It would be so much fun to watch with friends too,' Isabelle thought. There was only one problem. Friday night was Dani and Lola night. It was sleepover night with her best friends. It was sacred. It was everything. And for the first time, Isabelle felt truly awful and sad about what was happening to her. Forget her mind being hazy; forget her body seemingly changing; forget the world's perception of her; and, forget, for one moment, that none of this was real. This could not, could not be forgotten. This would be painful beyond imaginable. This was not acceptable, real or fake. Isabelle resisted. "I uh......I think I have plans on Friday already." Isabelle could see the excitement drain from her friend's face. It hurt Isabelle more than she expected. She didn't want to disappoint her bes- her friend. "But I'll check with my mom and let you know!" Isabelle said, trying to improve the situation and leave a little hope. 'Buy why would I check with mom? She doesn't dictate what I do.' Nevertheless, Isabelle's comments seemed to have had the intended effect on Mel, who smiled. "Okay fine. But I wont take no for an answer. And don't make me call Jane myself! I'm not above interference." Mel said, before skipping off , saying she needed to find her brother and go home. Isabelle laughed, and then noted to herself that this girl seemed to know her mom. 'Odd.' Isabelle checked her phone again, and saw that her mom had indicated that she would be a little late picking her up. 'Perfect. I can do a little work before she gets here.' Isabelle was left at a crossroads. Her time this afternoon in the library had unfortunately been......'interfered with by others,' but a more pressing concern existed: she needed to find Dani and Lola. She needed to know what they knew. She needed to know if, ".....if they remember me," Isabelle whispered out loud. It was too heavy a thought to let sit in her mind. It needed to escape. Isabelle contemplated, but there really was not much debate. She needed to find Dani and Lola, and she needed to find them before they left for the day. Isabelle started to jog toward the 12th grader locker area, which was adjacent to the dancing changing rooms. By her estimate, the 12th grade ballet students would have been wrapping up afternoon classes, and Isabelle could catch her friends in the locker room. Isabelle made her way through the maze that was Higgins, turning, twisting, climbing and descending stairs, and finally arrived at the locker rooms. Isabelle watched as Victoria left the locker room with a few other girls Isabelle had been in school with for years....'Or have I?' Isabelle was compelled to wonder. Isabelle shook the thought off, and made her way into the locker room. While it was not a strange occurrence for a ballet student to be in the ballet locker rooms, Isabelle stood out like a sore thumb. It was 12th grade ballet, and by every indication, Isabelle was not a 12th grader. Her shrunken appearance had never felt more obvious, standing around girls who just 2 weeks prior were, by every measure, her classmates. But as she walked in, Isabelle couldn't help but notice how much taller each girl seemed; how much curvier each girl's body was; how much sharper their features were. Next to them, Isabelle felt, well, "dainty....even frumpish..' It was the best Isabelle could come up with. Isabelle shook off the strange stares at her presence, looing desperately for her friends. Isabelle began to walk down each row of lockers, finding the room sparsely filled, as most girls had likely left for the day. Row by row, Isabelle became more disappointed, more panicked. As she made her way to the last row, her heart sank; 'They aren't here.' Isabelle had made the wrong choice, or been too slow. 'Or perhaps both.' But, just as she was sinking into her disappointment, Isabelle felt a familiar touch on her shoulder, followed by an all too familiar voice. "Izzy?! What are you doing here?" Isabelle could hardly contain herself: it was Lola, and Lola knew who she was. Isabelle turned, without thinking, and threw her arms around Lola, finding her arms wrapping a little lower on Lola's back than usual, but nevertheless, grasping tightly. Isabelle held her, for what felt like full minutes, before the best thing happened - Lola hugged her back. "Come, sit down Izzy! What's wrong?" Isabelle shrugged off the new name her friend was calling her, jumping at the opportunity to sit with Lola. It was only then that Isabelle realized that Lola was in nothing but a towel, having just come out of the shower. Isabelle was not sure why, but she turned red at the realization. Isabelle sat down, excited to be with Lola. But before she knew it, the situation improved for the better. Dani rounded the far end of the lockers, smiling in their direction, and making her way to them. "Hey Izzy. What's going on? What are you doing here?" Dani started, before changing her tone to a more sympathetic one. "You look upset -" Dani continued, sitting next to Isabelle and putting an arm around her, pulling her in for a hug. "What's wrong?" Lola, sitting on the other side of Isabelle, took a guess - "Rough first day? That last year of middle school is a bitch." Isabelle wanted to be upset. She wanted to protest - to remind her friends that she was not a middle schooler, she was not an eight grader. She was in 12th grade - like they were. But in that moment it didn't matter. 'Maybe in more than just this moment. Maybe it doesn't matter at all. Maybe its enough......' Isabelle could hardly believe she was even thinking the words. "Maybe it's enough that I still have them in my life. Maybe that's what matters, and all of this.........I just.....maybe there is nothing I can do,' Isabelle thought, beginning to wonder if she was too far gone - if there was no return from this coma she had hypothesized this all to be caused by. So, instead, Isabelle just nodded, silently, her rounded chin tucked against her clavicle, her eyes closed, and beginning to tear. Her friends didn't judge her, they just hugged her. "It couldn't have been all that bad," Lola suggested, "You improved so much this summer in the program. Dani and I watched you in our Friday seminars with you - you were top of the class by the end." Dani nodded, adding that "Izzy - you had to have killed it this morning. Did you presentation with Lazard go well?" Isabelle, managing to keep her tears inside, picked her head up. The pity from her friends was palpable - her eyes were obviously glossy. And at least Isabelle knew where her friends thought they knew her from, at least in part. Isabelle should have figured it out sooner, but...well didn't. As part of the Higgins program, senior girls taught Friday classes to the middle schoolers. It started over the summer, and ran through the end of the next year, before the senior spring show. Isabelle had loved that program over the summer. It was fun to meet the younger kids, who kind of looked up to you. Dani in particular was a star teacher, and all the kids loved her. Dani had a leg up, Isabelle supposed, because she taught in a local studio to many of the Higgins girls twice a week after school 'Guess that's just me now - one of those kids that looks up to her.' Isabelle wiped her nose, which had been running, before responding. "It actually did go very well. I was late, so Lizard Lazard made me go first. But it went well. Classes, on the other hand......they weren't fun." Lola smiled in return, "Classes will get easier. They just throw a lot at you before you move to high school. And well be here to help if you need!" Dani likewise was very supportive, "Don't worry about it Izzy. Well shake it all off on Friday. You'll let us know how the rest of the week went, and how classes were. Trust us - it'll get better." Isabelle smiled. It did feel better to talk to Lola and Dani, though, waiting until Friday to see them again would be too long. Nevertheless, Isabelle uttered a genuine "thanks guys,' before taking a deep breath and feeling better. Lola stood up, and dropped her towel in front of her locker, pulling out her clothes to start changing. "Plus, we have some good news to tell you that might cheer you up," Lola started. Isabelle, while hearing her words, couldn't help but stare at her naked friend. All Isabelle could feel in that moment was a dose of insecurity. Lola was a beautiful grown woman, with outstanding curves, and a strong ballet bod. Her black hair flowed down just to the tip of her round, perky breasts, which in particular, made Isabelle feel inferior. Isabelle looked back down at her own chest, reminded that her once small, but noticeable breasts, had all but vanished. Lola was pulling up her thong, grabbing a bra as she continued. "Dani got the lead in the Nutcracker for the winter show. And I got the lead for the spring show - Swan Lake. Seems the teachers went double Tchaikovsky this year - were to do a compare and contrast on the competing themes and the historical impact on the writing as part of the integrated history class this year." As Lola finished sharing the fantastic news, she hooked her bra and threw on a sweater. Isabelle was glad to be able to stop blushing. But more importantly - this was unbelievable news. Isabelle had all but forgotten about the showcases, even if they were less than a week ago. It didn't seem to matter anymore, since, her showcase has obviously been forgotten. 'Or more likely, never even happened,' Isabelle thought, pondering how this timeline worked. It didn't matter though. Isabelle couldn't have been happier for her friends. Lola deserved the spring lead - there was no question about it. But Dani, though a great dancer, was not top of the class. It was such an accomplishment that she got the role. Isabelle couldn't contain her excitement. "I'm so excited for you guys!!!! That is amazing! You're both sure to be able to launch those into amazing roles in amazing companies after graduation!" It was true - the Higgins leads always did. Her friends would be living their dreams. Isabelle, however, would need to wait it seemed. Isabelle was puzzled by her reaction, in part. Dance was certainly competitive. And ballet was perhaps the most competitive of the disciplines. Isabelle wanted to feel distressed, wanted to feel cheated that it had not been her, even if not a lead, that received a prominent role in the senior show. Yer she didn't. Something in her heart told her it was not her time. And in all the chaos of the last two weeks, nothing felt more certain than that feeling. It was not her time. Her time would come though. And so, all she felt was joy for her friends. Isabelle sat around, curiously to Lola and Dani, until her phone buzzed a few minutes later, informing her that her mom had arrived at the middle school ot. Isabelle said her goodbyes, and decided to make her way out to her mom's car. Her library adventure would have to wait until tomorrow. Isabelle found her mom's car quite easily, quickly making her way to the trunk and dropping her bags there, before returning to the front seat to sit with her mom. Jane eyed her, contemplating saying something, before letting her daughter ease into the seat. "How was your first day sweetie?" Jane asked, as she moved the car into drive, and started heading home. "It was okay mom. Dance went well. But some of the classes were hard," Isabelle confessed to her mom. There was no use hiding anything. "And I'm pretty tired," Isabelle added at the end. Jane's lip curled at the last remark, again, letting it slide - for the most part. "Well you need to get to bed earlier sweetie, like I said. and make sure you sleep through the night. You were up all night last night." Isabelle had almost forgotten that her mom had heard her, well, "getting water" in the middle of the night. 'OH SHOOT' Isabelle remembered. 'I left the sheets in the dryer downstairs. I need to find a way to get them and fold them up.' It would be tough to explain to her mom why she had new sheets on one day after her mom had made her bed up for her. She would need to be delicate...and quiet. "How did you performance go this morning? How was Mel's?" Jane continued, probing her daughter for more information about her day. Isabelle was taken aback a little, but responded in turn "It went well mom. I had to go first because I was late to class. Mel did well too. She actually - " Isabelle cut herself off. She hadn't really put much more thought into her plans for the weekend. And she was surprised at how much she actually wanted to take Mel up on her offer. But her Friday night was usually sacred. It was Dani and Lola night. But even in her current state, It was unlikely that she was going to have her regular plans. '12th graders don't invite 8th graders to sleepover.' Isabelle reminded herself. And even though her friends remembered her, albeit in a different manner, it hurt feeling she would be alone Friday. Starting to come to terms with her predicament, Isabelle decided to make the best of a bad situation. "...she actually invited me to sleep over on Friday night. Is that okay?" Jane turned and smiled at her daughter. "Of course it is hunny. I'll take you over there after school. So pack your bag beforehand. Just remember that Saturday you're going over to Jess's house, okay?" Isabelle nodded - at least some things weren't different. Obviously she had don't a good enough job last weekend to secure more work. The conversation ended as Jane pulled her car into the driveway at the house. Isabelle hopped out of the car, and grabbed her bags from the back of the car, and headed up the stairs after her mom. Isabelle dropped her bags as her mom opened the door, and started heading toward the basement. "Isabelle, can you just take your things to your room first?" Isabelle stopped, turned around, and picked up her bags, jogging up the stairs, and turning toward her room. She didn't have a ton of time if she didn't want to risk her mom finding her sheets. Isabelle opened her door and dropped her bags. But something was off - her bed was made, and the room was tidied up a bit. 'I didn't do any of that?' Isabelle thought to herself, with panic setting in. She noticed that her bed had the purple sheets she had put on last night, so there was no major concern there. But Isabelle needed to get downstairs. Stammering down the steps, Isabelle made her way down to the basement, ignoring her mom's remark about slowing down on her way down there. Isabelle moved quickly, turning into the laundry room, and immediately opened the dryer door. What she saw, however, terrified her. ... It was empty. ... 'Why is it EMPTY?!?!' ... Panic set in. Despite the dryer being, very obviously empty, Isabelle stuck her hands inside, frantically throwing them about as though if she did it enough times, the sheets would reappear. Isabelle was contemplating every possible option. 'Did I fold them and forget....no, that didn't happen. Did mom find them? What did she think if she did? Maybe....maybe mom didn't find them. Maybe they just disappeared.....maybe they just changed like other things are changing, and.....went away?!' Isabelle couldn't exactly, ask her mom what happened. It would lead to more questions. Maybe it was promising that her mom HADN'T said anything, leaving open the possibility that no one was the wiser. 'Maybe she just folded them, and put them away. That was possible, right?' Isabelle asked herself, doubting the chances that was the case. Whatever happened, Isabelle wasn't willing to find out just yet. Rather than heading back upstairs, Isabelle decided to stay down on the couch and turn on the television. Much to her excitement, an episode of Rover Roo and the cluefinders was on, and Isabelle very quickly became engrossed with the show. She hadn't ever seen this one - an episode that focused on some deep sea diver who was plaguing Awesomeville by removing all the toilet seat handles. 'What a menace,' Isabelle thought. Fortunately, Rover Roo solved the crime quickly. As the episode ended, Isabelle heard her mom call to her, letting her know dinner was ready. Isabelle took a deep breath, reminded of the dilemma she was in. Isabelle lifted herself off of the couch, and made her way to the staircase, turning back as though to consider running away. Nevertheless, there was nowhere to go, and so Isabelle climbed the stairs. As Isabelle made her way into the kitchen, a delicious scent hit her nose - "hmmmm Mom! Grilled cheese! Yes!" It was grilled cheese and tomato soup night, of course. "Yes sweetheart, I figured I would make one of your favorites," Jane replied. Isabelle wasn't sure about favorite, but....'what the heck, yes it is!' Isabelle immediately sat down, and started dipping her sandwich into her soup. "I'm glad you like it sweetheart. You were downstairs a while. Did you find whatever it was you were looking for?" Jane asked, curiously. Isabelle paused, holding her sandwich above her soup, considering how to answer. 'Just play it cool,' Isabelle decided. "I wasn't looking for anything mom. Just watching TV." Isabelle replied, as calmly as she could. She didn't want her mom picking up on how nervous she was. "Oh,' Jane responded, sounding disappointed, as if she had hoped for a different answer. Jane continued, "Well, it sounded like you were rummaging. If you need help......finding anything, just tell me sweetie, okay? I'm here." Isabelle did her best not to read too much into it, but Isabelle was growing more fearful that her mother had...discovered her, well her accident. Isabelle had no choice - she had to live the lie. "Nope mom. I'm all good,' Isabelle responded, before dipping the last bite of her grilled cheese into her soup. Isabelle then picked the bowl up, and started slurping what was left, accidentally pouring a little down onto her purple shirt. Isabelle put the bowl down, and then very unexpectedly - "Buh-UUuurrrp!" Isabelle didn't know where that came from, but it was quite the belch. "ISABELLE!" Jane exclaimed, half laughing and half chastising. "Not very lady-like! That was gross. Now go clean up, and get to bed earlier tonight." Isabelle nodded, slightly embarrassed by her gaseous explosion, and proceeded to go up the stairs. Isabelle was sure about only two things, as she headed upstairs. First, that she would indeed be getting into bed earlier tonight; she had been tired all day. Second, that she was not having a repeat of the night before - there would be no accident. And so if she needed to re-do her plan from Dani's last week, and set alarms, set alarms she would. As Isabelle entered her room, she pulled her phone out and started setting alarms throughout the night, before setting it down on her dresser to change into her pajamas for the night. As she did, Isabelle thought something was missing. 'I left...something her this morning.' But for the life of her, Isabelle couldn't remember what. 'Oh well," Isabelle shrugged it off, before pulling out a set of matching pajamas with some sparkly hearts on them, and pulling them on. "Better go use the toilet now, before I get into bed." Isabelle went to the bathroom, and sat down on the toilet to pee. Surprisingly, her stomach informed her she needed to poop as well. Isabelle was relieved - last thing she needed was another problem like she had this morning. Isabelle wiped, flushed, and then went to brush her teeth and wash her face. "Ahhhhhhh...all better" Isabelle said, staring at herself in the mirror, before strangely, giving herself a wink. Isabelle headed back to her bedroom, intent to get into bed early tonight. She did, of course, have some homework to do - she had about 300 pages left of the Endless Night, and she had to read it all before Friday. Isabelle checked her phone - 8:51 - there was plenty of time to read, before shutting her bedroom light off, and making her way to her bed. Isabelle pulled back her comforter, and then her purple sheets, before climbing underneath the covers and pulling them over her. Isabelle then pulled Rabbity into her lap, turned her bedside lamp on, and started reading her book. Before she knew it, all went dark. ... ... Isabelle was woken by her alarm - and her bladder. Without thinking, Isabelle shoved the book on her chest to the side, and quickly made her way to the bathroom, peeing as soon as she sat down. Breathing deeply, Isabelle settled herself, wiped, and made her way back to bed. Isabelle checked her phone - it was 3:06 - she had slept for maybe, 4-5 hours. She didn't recall reading too long. But she didn't feel rested. She felt exhausted, and as soon as she got back into bed, fell asleep right away. ... ... Isabelle was woken a second time by her alarm. She grabbed her phone next to her - it was 6:00 AM. Isabelle lifted herself up, contemplating getting out of bed to pee. 'But I don't need to......' Isabelle thought long and hard about what to do. She would be getting up in an hour or so anyway. 'I can wait......its not big deal.' content with her decision, Isabelle put her head back down on her pillow, found Rabbity with her left arm, and fell asleep again. ... ... Isabelle's alarm went off for the third time. However, it wasn't her phone alarm that concerned her. It was another alarm that had her attention. A far more frightening alarm.

@Kahlez Thank you for raising this issue. It was ignorant of me to simply write the narrative that way without considering that people from other countries with different school systems would be reading. I am going to review my past chapters and reconsider how I present this. I want the story to be accessible for all, and you've pointed one at least one area that makes it confusing! I'm thankful for your tip. For the sake of clarity, Isabelle was viewed as a 12th Grader in the first several chapters. In the last chapter, she is viewed as an 8th grader.

Such prophets here! Am I really all that predictable? The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 18 Isabelle was swimming. She liked to swim. It was a peaceful activity, Isabelle, felt, as she pulled her right arm out from behind her, and into the water over her ear, repeating the process with her left arm, and again with her right, before submerging her whole body into the water, re-emerging a few feet out in front of her. Isabelle took a deep breath of fresh, evening air, before opening her eyes. She was back in Dani's pool, swimming her way to the exit, where her two best friends had just emerged, each of them looking spectacular. Dani and Lola were making their ways to the hot tub. Isabelle was lagging behind. Isabelle stepped out of the pool, the water falling off of her as she made her way toward her friends, who somehow, were already in the hot tub. As she made her way to them, Isabelle only realized that she was back in Dani's old bathing suit. The embarrassment of her outfit returned, if only for a moment, especially considering what her friends had just looked like. It was no matter, Isabelle reminded herself, as she made her way to the hot tub after her friends. As she approached, she could hear them speaking. "She looks so CUTE in that bathing suit, don't you think?" Dani had asked Lola, who smiled and responded. "I know? It fits her perfect, in more ways than one." The two girls giggled, though at what, Isabelle was not sure. She wanted to be angry, but she wasn't; her friends thought she looked good. That was a positive thing. Isabelle tried to respond herself, but for some reason, could not. Dani and Lola carried on the conversation. "I am going to miss having her around next year. It won't be the same without her." Lola said, sadly. The remark hurt Isabelle's heart, though, she did not know what to do about that. Dani responded before Isabelle could come up with an answer. Before doing so, Dani turned, and starred directly at Isabelle. "Yah, me too, but all we can do is make the best of our situations." Isabelle, again, could not respond. Nor did she feel the need to at that moment. Right now, Isabelle felt that she just wanted to be with her friends. And so, Isabelle slipped into the hot tub, content to listen as her friends spoke as though Isabelle wasn't even there. Content to listen to them laugh, content to listen to their voices, content as the warm water of the hot tub, eased her sore body, allowing her to blissfully, let go. *** *** The warm hot tub continued to spread around her. Only it wasn't the tub, Isabelle realized. It was not the tub. Isabelle's eyes shot open, too late to stop what had already started. She was, of course, peeing again. And this time it was in her bed. Isabelle clenched everything she could, stopping the stream, and clutching Rabbity even harder than she was previously. Isabelle jumped up out of bed, with nothing to do but assess the damage. There was no denying what had happened. Isabelle had wet the bed. 'Again. Why. Why why why why why.' was all Isabelle could muster. Thankfully, she had the good sense to both panic and act immediately, shoving her comforter off to the side, and stripping the sheets off of her bed as quickly as she could. Isabelle grabbed her phone quickly to identify the time, noting it was only 3:35 in the morning. There was time. Her body felt ice cold. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, and the veins in her neck felt as though they were bursting. A lump began developing in her throat. And Isabelle knew it would only be a matter of minutes before she started crying. There was time. But she would need to use it quickly. Wisely. There was only one task at hang, Isabelle knew. 'Cover up the crime. Leave no evidence behind.' Like a criminal mastermind, Isabelle quickly gathered her sheets, and put them off near the door. Turning back toward her mattress, Isabelle saw that, indeed, there was a wet stain on the bed. Thankfully, it was small, and Isabelle was convinced she could cover it up. 'First things first,' Isabelle told herself. Noting that her long sleep shirt and panties were both wet, she stripped out of them both and kicked them into the pile with her sheets. Isabelle maneuvered around the pile, feeling the wet residue of her pee still against her thighs, but, and back, where she had laid in it. Isabelle ventured into the bathroom as quietly as she could, sat down on the toile seat - emphasizing the coolness on her butt and thighs, releasing the remaining pee into the bowl. Isabelle could hardly focus on the fact that she had peed quite a bit. Isabelle wiped, washed her hands, and then grabbed a nearby washcloth, letting it soak in warm water before pulling it back, and wiping her back, legs, butt, and vagina. Content enough that she had cleaned herself up, she grabbed a towel and dried herself off, before heading back to her bedroom as quietly as she could. Isabelle approached her dresser, and grabbed the first pair of panties she could find - a bright blue pair with white hearts on the front - and threw on another sleeping shirt, or more accurately in this case, a sleeping dress, that fell well below her knees. Isabelle took a deep breath, before bending down and folding the wet parts of her sheets into the dry parts, so she could pick them up and carry them, and her soaking clothes, downstairs. Isabelle grabbed her bundle, and made her way out of the room, tiptoeing down the stairs as delicately as she could, before rounding the corner and heading to the basement. Isabelle stepped down on to the first step, *CREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAK* 'SHIT.' Isabelle had forgotten, in her panic, about the creaky step. She froze, listening to hear if the loud noise had woken up her mother, thwarting her plan. Isabelle stood there silently, for what felt like, and indeed was, five full minutes, the thundering beat of her heart the only thing to break the silence. Isabelle finally found the courage to move again, and made her way - much slower - down each step to the basement, turning into the laundry room immediately. Isabelle threw her sheets in with her clothes, before dumping way more detergent than was needed in. 'Quick cycle - I have no choice.' Isabelle concluded, punching the machine to start. Isabelle stood in front of the machine, pondering her dilemma. ' I don't think I have enough time to wash and dry these before mom will wake up," Isabelle concluded. She would need to use spare sheets, and collect these later in the day. Isabelle opened up the linen closet, looking for the spare set of sheets for her bed. After several minutes of panicked searching, Isabelle could not find them. 'Shit. What am I going to do.' Isabelle's eyes were directed toward a set of sheets she didn't recognize. they were purple......'purple with polka dots!...These must be my spare set. But I don't remem.....' It didn't matter, Isabelle realized. 'I just need a spare set.' Isabelle pulled them out, recognizing immediately that they would be a good fit. She then closed the linen closet, identified that she had 37 minutes on the washer, and made her way back upstairs, sliding her body over the top stair and onto the floor of the main level so as to not make a noise. Isabelle made her way up the stairs to the top floor silently, setting the sheets down at the foot of her bed. Isabelle didn't know what she could expect to find, but she returned to her bathroom and opened the lower cabinet under the sink, searching desperately for something to use on her mattress. Bottle after bottle, nothing looked like it was right. Until, ...'I don't remember this ever being here. "Bide mattress cleaner?"' Isabelle sat, wondering for a moment why they would even own this. 'Who cares why?!? It's a miracle!' Isabelle thought, returning to her room with the Bide and a roll of toilet paper. Isabelle began spraying the bed generously in the wet area, letting it soak, and then using the toilet paper to sop up the liquid. Isabelle repeated the process three times, before feeling content that she had done a good enough job. Isabelle set the bottle down on her dresser, and headed back out to get her spare sheets, returning to make the bed. "That solves that, at least." Isabelle checked her phone again, worried about the time. It was 4:52 AM. 'Time is running out,' Isabelle reminded herself, as she scurried back downstairs to the laundry room, careful again to avoid making too much noise. Isabelle opened the now finished washing machine, taking out the sheets and clothes, giving them a sniff to confirm they were clean before throwing them into the dryer, and setting the cycle to the speediest one she could. Still, it would be about an hour before the sheets were dry. 'Do I stay up until then?' Isabelle left the laundry room, and sat on the basement couch. Finally done with her work, Isabelle broke down, crying rivers from her eyes, and feeling them swell up again. "What am I going to do?!" She asked herself aloud, truly without any answer. Isabelle waited, hoping the universe would provide an answer to any of the questions she had. It all just felt. ..."Impossible to deal with," Isabelle concluded. Isabelle stayed on the couch for a good 15 minutes, crying the whole time. She felt pathetic. She felt out of control. More than anything, she felt tired. And so, Isabelle decided to go back upstairs to her room - she needed the sleep. The laundry would have to wait until morning to fold and hide. Isabelle began the long journey back to her room. She stood up, and made her way toward the staircase, past the laundry room, and up the stairs. Isabelle leaped over the top stair, landing delicately on her toes, before rounding the corner and heading toward the staircase upstairs. Isabelle laid her hand on the cool wooden railing, using it to help her body up the stairs, exhausted from the ordeal of the morning. Isabelle dragged her back foot up the last step, turned to go to her bedroom, when it happened. ... ".....Izz....Are you okay?" ... Her mother's voice echoed in the dark, silent house. While usually a source of comfort, Isabelle froze again. Her mom repeated herself. "Iz. Are you okay? Why are you up. I heard rustling." Isabelle was not ready to tell her mom what happened. In fact, Isabelle was never going to tell her. She needed a quick exit, before she started crying again. "Yah mom.....I uh...I had to go to the bathroom. And then I wanted a.....glass of water, so I went downstairs." Jane considered her daughter's response for a moment. It was certainly plausible, but something seemed off. It was 5 AM, however, and Jane was not about to launch an inquisition at this hour. "Okay sweetie," Jane said, with all the love she could muster, "Go back to bed. you have a big day tomorrow. Senior year and all." The words hardly registered for Isabelle. But she was out of her dilemma, so she turned, walked into her bedroom, and quickly tucked herself into her new sheets. It would be a while before she fell asleep, but, clutching Rabbity close to her chest, Isabelle eventually dozed off. **** ".....ISABELLE. I said GET UP! You are going to be late for your first day." Isabelle's eyes shot open. If her mom had woken her up before, she did not notice. What she did notice, however, was that she was exhausted. It had been a few too many nights that Isabelle had not slept well, and she was continuing to feel the effects. Isabelle pushed the covers off of herself, and picked up her phone. It was already 8:15. She did have to get moving. Isabelle stood up, and walked over to her dresser, pulling off her sleeping dress. She rummaged through her underwear drawer, finding a simple bra that Isabelle didn't recognize, and putting it on. Isabelle then pulled a pair of plain, black legging from another drawer, before settling on a cute purple top with flowers stitched into it. 'It's good enough for the day.' Isabelle then made her way to her closet, grabbed her ballet slippers, her tights, and a plain, black leotard that was hanging in the front, stuffing them all into her ballet bag, and throwing it over her shoulder. Isabelle then grabbed her school satchel, being sure to shove her still unopened schedule into it, before heading downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs, Isabelle dropped her two bags, before making her way into the kitchen. It would be too late for breakfast, but she could at least have a sip of coffee before she left for school. She greeted her mom as she entered the kitchen. "Morning mom," Isabelle said, before making her way to the cupboard, fortunately finding a glass on the lowest shelf, and carrying it over to the coffee pot. "Morning sweetie. There's my senior girl." Isabelle nearly dropped the coffee mug out of her hand. 'Had mom just called me a senior?' Her mother's reaction was not, or should not, have been shocking to the degree it was. But after everything that had transpired over the last 10 days, it was. 'Maybe everything is fixed....Maybe, maybe it was all just one bad dream. Maybe I am finally back to me.' The very thought of this lightened the exhaustion weighing her down. She was back. "Thanks Mom!" Isabelle said, with a certain energy she had lacked the last several days. It felt good knowing that everything would be back to normal. "We have to get going sweetie. And coffee? Really?" Jane said, with a certain displeasure in her voice? 'Yes Mom, Coffee. Cannot function without.' Isabelle thought to herself, before chugging down a mug of the lukewarm substance, and following her mom out the door, grabbing her bags on the way. Isabelle dropped her two bags in the trunk, and walked around the car to get into the front seat with her Mom. She didn't speak much on the way to Higgins, opting to rest her eyes in the front seat instead. Jane picked up on Isabelle's tiredness, remarking that "you really need to get to bed earlier sweetie. This is a big year for you. If I need to enforce a bedtime, I will." 'Yah, that'll be the day,' Isabelle thought, returning to closing her eyes for just a few more minutes, letting her mind try to reset after the night prior. As Isabelle felt her mom's car, round a turn, and begin to ascend up the hill toward Higgins, it occurred to her that she had no idea how her day was going to start. It was unlike her, as her friends had noted, to not have immediately reviewed her schedule. But with everything that had been happening, it was hardly a priority. 'And what was there to review? The schedule was what it was - it was the same every year nearly.' She would have to review it when Jane dropped it off, having left her bag in the back of course. Isabelle sat upright as her mom drove up to the school, the car puttering away as it made its way over the last incline, and into view of the front entrance. Jane continued along the road toward the front entrance, except, ... except she never turned. Instead, Jane continued rounding the school, heading toward the back. Heading toward the middle school entrance. "Mom" Isabelle spoke abruptly, "where on earth are you going?!?" Isabelle asked, in a panic. Something told her everything was not back to normal. "I'm taking you to school Isabelle. Now shush, I need to pay attention and find a place to drop you," Jane said, searching for a drop-off spot. Isabelle listened to her mother's instruction, but, was dreading what she knew, but would not admit, was her new reality. Jane spotted an open space, and pulled in. Isabelle had started to protest, but her mom shut her down quickly "I don't have time for that this morning Iz. Get out, get your stuff, and get to class. I need to get to work." Isabelle made one last attempt "But mo-" to no avail. 'Out Isabelle! Now!" Isabelle popped out of the car, a grumpy grin returning to her face. She slammed the door behind her, before going to the trunk, grabbing her two bags, and slamming that shut too. Isabelle walked over the sidewalk in front of the school, ignoring her mom's waves goodbye. She had more pressing concerns to investigate. Slowly, and praying for mercy, Isabelle pulled out the manila envelope housing her schedule. With shaking hands, Isabelle tore the envelope open, and started slipping the paper schedule out, bit by bit. The top was simple - it read "Isabelle Weber, SENIOR." That much was true, and offered some sense of reprieve. Then she pulled it out slightly more, and the truth hit her like a truck. The full schedule read: Isabelle Ward - SENIOR Higgins Middle School They were sending her back to middle school. The school thought she was.......'..14, I think...' Isabelle deduced. It wasn't getting better. It was getting worse. Much, much worse. And then it hit her. 'Mom thinks....thinks I am a middle school senior too. And...." Isabelle could hardly admit the worst part of it all .She would now truly be alone. "..my friends. I'm not even in school with my friends.' Isabelle felt empty, standing on the sidewalk, unable to move from where she was. Isabelle stood there for what felt like ever. She felt that she had lost, lost her effort to unfold this mystery. There was no hope. No reason to continue. "Except there is," Isabelle said aloud to herself. Saying it out loud felt necessary - she needed the reminder that there was still time. 'I am going to figure this out. Stick with the plan - get to the library, and sort this mystery out.' It was the only sensible thing to do. Isabelle turned to face her new reality: she was going to have to back to middle school. Her mom's words echoed in her mind again: 'things are going to happen to you. Things are going to happen around you. Things you cannot explain. Things you don't always understand, or that don't make sense. And you won't be able to control it all.' But there was a way forward, Isabelle reminded herself. 'Let it happen. And learn to deal with it.' Isabelle was going to have to press on. 'Do my best.' Isabelle was proud of herself. She had come a long way, coming to terms with everything. She had fought it all of last week - it was driving her mad. It still was, to be honest. But what could she do? This obviously wasn't real. She just needed to sort out what it was. And she couldn't focus on silly things like this if she had any hope of doing so. She needed to direct her attention to what mattered. With that motivation, Isabelle made her way into the school doors, pushing them open. While the different entrances corresponded to where the students had their separate classes, the middle and high school technically shared the same building. As Isabelle walked into the school, she pulled out her complete schedule. She shouldn't have been shocked at the presence of middle school classes, but it certainly made the situation more real. And it also occurred to her that she would be dancing in the morning, rather than the afternoon. Middle school students took their "arts" classes in the mornings, rather than the afternoons. It was to the benefit of the high schoolers, largely because after dancing, they had sufficient time to shower, not having to go to classes. Isabelle was quickly reminded of the days in which she had to spend sweaty in her afternoon classes. Isabelle was then reminded of another problem: She had coffee that morning, and her stomach was letting her know it. It was time to go. So rather than make her way to "Ballet II," Isabelle dashed to the nearest girls room. 'I wont have time to make it to my normal bathroom spot,' Isabelle realized almost immediately. Isabelle settled for the girls room inside the locker room where her new classmates were getting ready to go to class. 'I'm going to be late too," she realized. Isabelle made her way into the locker room, making eye contact with a room full of girls....'well my age I guess..." Isabelle shamefully accepted. And though Isabelle looked at them all, perplexed, they all seemed to know who she was. "Hi Izzy!," "HEY THERE Belle!", "Belly! How are you?' Each girl she walked by was kind enough to say hello. Isabelle felt silly not responding, but how could she? She didn't even know there names? 'Also, what are these names they are calling me.' Isabelle gave smiles to each girl, offering generic hellos to each. Isabelle needed to go to the bathroom, but with all the girls here.....'Let me get changed quickly.' Isabelle dropped her bag at the last locker, and quickly started stripping down to get her ballet clothes on, Isabelle considered removing her bra to dance - it wouldn't be an issue with her leotard on - but was not comfortable getting naked at that moment. It wasn't that she was not used to being naked around her friends - that was the life of a dancer. She just wasn't used to being naked in the body.....she was in. Isabelle pulled her white tights up her legs, smoothing them out as she lifted them above her waist. She then stepped into her leotard, smoothing it out as well. Isabelle sat down, making minor adjustments to her outfit, before putting on her ballet slippers. As she did, she felt the warmth emanate from them and spread across her body. The warmth provided a comfort she missed that morning, and for just a minute, made it seem like all her problems were gone. By the time she was dressed, nearly every girl had left the locker room to head to the ballet class. 'Now's my chance - bathroom.' Isabelle began making her way to the toilet, until she was attacked from the back. "Bellllllllllly! How exciting is this! Senior year!!!!" A girl, who Isabelle recognized, but couldn't not for the life of her identify, had wrapped her arms around Isabelle, squeezing her tight. The hug was extremely comforting, but the squeeze was not helping with her,.. errr...impending stomach issue. Isabelle turned, seeing a girl a little taller than her, and cute as a button. She had her black hair tied up in a neat ballet bun, which likely ran down past her shoulders. She had dark, beautiful, and somewhat familiar blue eyes, that warmed her at the sight of them. The girl had freckles on her cheeks, with a short, small nose. Her features were very sharp, and she was, for a 14 year old girl ('I think?') very pretty. There was something about her..... There were two more urgent issues at hand. First, Isabelle really needed to get into the bathroom. This girl's squeeze had not helped the situation. Second, Isabelle had no idea how to address this girl. Who was she? Why did she hug me? How do I get out of this conversation. What should I -' At that thought, Isabelle's slippers warmed her feet, and provided her with a sense of happiness, a sense of comfort, a sense of joy. The slippers provided her with a reminder that, this was all okay. That she knew this girl. That she was in the right place. "Hey Mel!" Isabelle said without thinking. "What the hell? Who is Mel? Is this girl Mel? I sure hope so....' The girl - presumably Mel - smiled back, "You're going to be late on day one Belly. Now come on." Mel grabbed Isabelle's hand, and started pulling her toward the exit. "Mel. Wait. Hang on. I cant. Wait. I, uh." *Thrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp.* Mel stopped, turned back to Isabelle, and just stared at her. Isabelle had just very clearly farted in front of this girl. 'Ohmygod. What is she going to think?!? What am I going to do?!?!' Isabelle was in shock. This was going to be a disaster. This was MIDDLE school - she would never live this down. Except Mel didn't. She didn't do anything. She just smiled back at Isabelle, with a smirk, and made a joke of it. "Okay tooter - looks like you have somewhere else to go,' before chuckling and adding a, 'see you in there,' before letting go of her hand, and skipping off to class. At this point, Isabelle's need was becoming desperate. She began shifting her feet toward the bathroom, one hand pressed against her butt as though to help hold it in. Isabelle made her way into a stall, shifting her leotard down off her body, and yanking down her tights before sitting down on the toilet, making it just in time. Log after log, the poop slid out of Isabelle's put, loudly plopping into the toilet one after the other. Isabelle didn't care if anyone was listening, for the first time. All she cared about was that she made it in time. 'That could have been a disaster.' Isabelle's slippers sent a jolt of warmth through her body. After several minutes, Isabelle took some toilet paper and wiped herself, before standing, fixing her outfit, and making her way to the sink to wash her hands, before jogging out to class. She was already very late. Isabelle made her way out of the locker room and toward one of the large ballet studios where her class was to take place. Peering in, Isabelle saw the class was well underway, spotting Mel well into a warmup. 'Shit. As long as Ms.' It was. 'Shit," Isabelle repeated. It was Ms. Lazard. She did not care for tardiness. Isabelle slipped into the room, generating a smile from Mel. Isabelle tried to duck her head, but couldn't resist peering up to see if Lazard had noticed. Risking a glance, Isabelle starred at the teacher, only to see her starring right back, disapprovingly. This would not be good. "Ms. Weber. Thank you for joining us. Please proceed through the warmup, and then you will be presenting first." "Yes ma'am" Isabelle responded. 'Performing? Performing what, exactly?' It didn't matter, Isabelle thought. I just need to get ready. Isabelle went through the motions of warming up, stretching her legs and body in all manner that she did when preparing for her dance classes. She took a spot next to Mel, which, although the two chatted sparingly while warming up, offered a great deal of comfort. She did not feel alone for the first time that day. "Alright girls. Were going to go over the short routines you were supposed to work over the summer. Ms. Weber has volunteered to go first, so the rest of you to the back. Ms. Weber. Proceed." Isabelle stepped up the middle, Mel blowing her a kiss as she did. Isabelle was not sure what to expect. She could just do a routine she knew, but how would she know it was the one she practiced? "This could quickly turn into a disaster,' Isabelle recognized. I don't know what to -" At that moment, and all too familiar event happened. As her slippers sent warm shockwaves through her body, Isabelle watched the world fall away around her. the studio's mirror collapsed; the floor was erased beneath her; her classmates, gone, her teacher, gone. Gone was the door to the studio, and gone was the school around her. Isabelle was floating in an dark abyss, without an idea of where she was in time or space. Slowly, however, the world began to reform. A flat, warm stage expanded from underneath her feet. Golden curtains opened in front of her to the sight of hundreds of balconies in a oval formation, filled with patrons. In front of her, on the ground, an orchestra rolled out like a carpet being unfolded, followed by hundreds more seats with many more people. Isabelle knew where she was immediately. There was no mistaking it. This was the great Bolshoi Theater; historic, regal, home to the greatest Russian ballet. And standing on stage, illuminated by the stage lights, was Isabelle, standing on her own. Isabelle was no longer in her simple outfit however. She was dressed in a stunning white leotard, matching white tights, and a stunning white tutu. Her chest was covered in sparkling diamonds, which ran across her elongated figure. Everything was new. Everything, except her slippers, which she was never without. The music started, and her performance took off. Isabelle did not know what she was doing, but doing it she was. Like each time this had happened previously, her performance was mesmerizing. Isabelle was both watching it happen, while also doing it. She could not look away; she could not stop dancing. Spin after spin, leap after leap, Isabelle danced away to the bewilderment of the crowd. Until suddenly it stopped. Until Isabelle took a bow. The applause was thunderous. The noise reverberated through the stage, through her slippers, and up her legs. She had amazed them all - and the feeling was exceptional. And just like that, it all went away again. The stage fell away, the crowd disappeared. The balconies folded up together like a storybook, and seats and orchestra rolled back up into a carpet. Isabelle fell back into the abyss, before landing squarely in her ballet studio at Higgins. Ms. Lazard was back. Her classmates were back. The mirror reappeared. the floor came back under her. And Mel - the girl who had hugged her so warmly, was smiling back at her. Isabelle was snapped back to reality by Ms. Lazard. "It appears at least one of you practiced over the summer. Very good Ms. Weber. Ms. Turner, you're up next."

We shall all have to wait and see! She had been wearing the slippers the whole day prior, if that helps your theory as to what might be transpiring! Perhaps a second chapter will appear today Thanks for reading!

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 17 Isabelle woke up, feeling refreshed, and far more relaxed than she had gone to sleep. The sunlight had been streaming through her bedroom windows flanking each side of her bed for well over an hour now, but Isabelle was desperate for the rest. Both her body and mind demanded it after several grueling days, both physically and emotionally. Isabelle stretched her body out, seeking to find the end of her bedframe with her toes, but coming up empty. She arched her back, stretching it out as she flung one leg over the other, enhancing the stretch and exhaling as she felt the relief in her body. She repeated the process on the other side, before sitting up and grey and white comforter off of her, and reaching to continue stretching by touching her toes. As she did, Isabelle glanced to her left and noticed Rabbity, sitting beside her enjoying the morning sun. 'Well good day to you sir," Isabelle said, as she did a playful bow to Rabbity. "I hope you slept fine and are prepared for this wonderful day!" Isabelle sat up, releasing her stretch, and shifted her body to the right, letting her legs fall to the ground. Though her body was largely sore, Isabelle remarked that her feet felt great as they touched the floor. 'Is this how all the other dancers have been feeling all this time with access to Petrova's shoes?' Isabelle wondered. 'Lucky ducks.' Isabelle lifted herself up, letting her scrunched up sleep shirt fall down to her knees. Isabelle was about to leave when she hesitated, a smell hitting her nose as she was about to move. Her eyes were directed to her wet pants and panties in front of her door, the smell and the sight of which reminded her of her transgression the night before. "I'll have to deal with that today," Isabelle reminded herself. As if to simply confirm that nothing of that...nature...had occurred again, Isabelle turned backward to examine her bed and sheets. A cursory review confirmed that no, she had not wet the bed, "because I don't do that," Isabelle remarked, before leaving her room, shutting the door firmly, and heading to the bathroom to pee where big gir - 'Where adults pee," Isabelle said aloud, regretting it almost instantly. As she sat down on the toilet, Isabelle reflected on her deductions the night prior. She finally felt that she had a purpose - a direction with which to investigate. That provided her with some semblance of hope, hope that she might finally figure out what was happening to her. Hope that, if she did, she might somehow be able to fix whatever it was that was happening. To find her way back to normal. 'For now, I just need to keep playing along.' Isabelle wrapped up her bathroom business, noting her soft features in the mirror as she glanced at herself while washing her hands. Isabelle then made her way down the stairs, toward the kitchen. By the time Isabelle was at the bottom of the stairs, she could hear her mother speaking to someone on the phone. The receiving end was on speaker phone, as Isabelle's mother was going about fixing up the kitchen. Isabelle immediately recognized the voice, as she stepped into the kitchen mid conversation. Jane smiled at Isabelle as she entered the kitchen, and then turned to walk toward the pantry. "....and so she threw a fit this morning. But what choice did we have? First the accident, and then the lying." It was, of course, Jess on the phone with her mom, Isabelle realized. Isabelle only hoped that the conversation was unrelated to the prior evenings events. It was too much to hope for, of course. Jess continued, obviously unaware that Isabelle had entered the room. "and so she'll stay like this until she learns to grown-up. I don't know how you did it on your own Jane, I really don't. Becky is turning into more work than Eric is. Sometimes I wonder if she will ever grow up," Jess said, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. Jane took the opportunity to cut in, "well, I did only have the one, and she was no easy task when she was Becky's age - and older. And speaking of her, she just walked into the kitchen," Jane said, for Jess's sake. "You can ask her yourself, if you want." Jane ended, as she started pouring some Leprechaun Runes into a bowl. 'That is nice of mom,' Isabelle thought, though her thoughts were cut off as Jess interjected. "Oh yes! Hi Izzzzz! I was just telling your mom how wonderful you were last night, and that well happily have you back to watch the kids whenever we go out!" Jane gave Isabelle a sort of 'I told you so look' that only a mother could. 'It's as though mom thinks I only did a good job because she asked me,' was what Isabelle wanted to say. She held back. Jess, meanwhile, continued. "I did have a question sweetie - where did you put Becky's pants that she had her accident in? I know you said she took her pullup off, but where are the pants?" Isabelle's heart stopped. 'The pants. Shit. Wait....' ... .... ..... '....obviously there are no pants, since Becky didn't, well, wet hers.....' Isabelle was scrambling. Unfortunately, the most obvious answer didn't come to her. Instead, Isabelle made a mistake. "I...uh......Well I...I washed them in the washer." Isabelle hoped that would be the end of that. It wasn't. "You washed them? Are they in there now??" Isabelle was in too deep. "Uhh...No, not anymore," Isabelle responded, watching her mom pour milk into her bowl of runes, "I uhh.....I dried them after that." It was the only possible response at this stage. "Dried them...? How on earth did you have the time. You said she had just had the accident before we got home." Isabelle knew she was caught in a lie. The only way forward? 'More lies.' "See it was a bit before you got back. I washed her pants first, because I didn't......." Isabelle scrambled for something that would make sense. Then she remembered her room "....didn't want it to smell in the basement, with the wet pants, so I washed them and dried them. I used the quick cycles, since it wasn't that bad of a wet spot." Isabelle considered her answer for a minute, before nervously digging into her bowl of runes her mom had pushed in front of her. Whether Jess or her mom suspected anything was up, Isabelle could not tell. But at that, Jess simply replied "that was very sweet of you," and moved on to another topic as Isabelle breathed, for what felt like the first time since she entered the kitchen. "....So like I said Jane, well do it this weekend. It'll be a blast. And Isabelle can watch the kids again." Whatever Jess was proposing, Isabelle could see her mom looked unsure about. Jane simply replied "I'll let you know," and took the phone off speaker, stepping into the other room. Isabelle shrugged it off, and turned her attention back to sorting her runes into groups, the way they were meant to be eaten. Jane headed upstairs, continuing to speak on the phone to Jess about whatever it was they spoke about, leaving Isabelle by herself to finish her breakfast. The morning passed without much fanfare. After breakfast, Isabelle made sure to go back to the bathroom to poop. Isabelle reminded herself that she would be visiting the bathroom often today, not risking anymore potential....incidents. 'Not that I have those,' she reminded herself, before washing her hands again, and turning to return to ber bedroom. As she approached her door, Isabelle couldn't help but notice that the door was propped open, ever so slightly. Isabelle reached out toward the door, her hand stopping just short of pushing it in. 'I swear I closed this...' Isabelle thought to herself, before doubting whether she had. Isabelle turned her gaze toward her mother's door, noting it was shut and hearing her mom still talking on the phone. For a moment, Isabelle wondered....but no. 'I just didn't shut it all the way,' Isabelle concluded. She was sure of that. Isabelle turned her gaze back to her door, and pushed her hand out, opening the door so that she could enter. Upon stepping into the, the smell of her pants and panties was far, far stronger, and Isabelle recognized that it would need to be addressed immediately. 'At least it doesn't smell in the hallway yet,' Isabelle said gratefully, as she turned to collect her wet clothes. Using the dry section of her pants as a sort of glove, Isabelle grabbed her cold, wet panties, and dropped both together into her hamper. 'I need to cover these with more stuff,' Isabelle thought, looking around her room for more clothes, and finding none that were dirty. Isabelle pondered what to do as she reflected on the morning. Isabelle was a little surprised she had even let herself forget about her....laundry, upstairs, even for just a minute while she was eating her breakfast. 'God forbid mom had actually come in here,' Isabelle almost laughed to herself. It was silly that her mind had even departed the need for laundry. Isabelle decided that she would strip her bed and wash her sheets. That would, of course, be the best way to cover her wet clothes. So Isabelle went about taking her comforter off of her bed, and pulling the fitted sheet, together with the top sheet, off of her bed. Isabelle then proceeded to take her pillow cases off, before pushing all of her sheets down into her hamper, concealing her shame. Isabelle than picked the basket up, nearly falling over from the weight of it, and began walking down the stairs toward the basement As soon as she left, Isabelle nearly bumped into her mom at the stairs. 'Oh, sorry sweetie. I didn't see you there," Jane said, before continuing, "Doing laundry? I think that's a great idea." Jane smiled, and directed Isabelle down the stairs. Isabelle stared at her mom, trying to read her, before simple descending the stairs, all the way to the basement. Once there, Isabelle threw all of her clothes and sheets into the washer, poured some discount detergent in, closed the lid, and selected the longest cycle available - "Heavily soiled." The irony of the name did not escape Isabelle. Isabelle stayed downstairs and watched some TV for the next hour and a half while the laundry cycle ran, running upstairs periodically to try and pee on the toilet, finding success every time. Isabelle wasn't sure why she was proud of that fact, but, in truth, she was. Just as her third episode of Rover Roo ended, the washing machine made a loud, ear piercing *BEEP* to inform Isabelle the cycle was completed. Isabelle lifted herself off of the couch, returned to the washer, and swapped her clothes and sheets into the dryer. Isabelle made a point of inspecting her panties and pants before doing so, to ensure they didn't smell. 'Look good to me,' she thought. As soon as she made the swap, Isabelle's mom came down the stairs, and opened up the linen closet where they stored extra towels, sheets, pillow cases, and other supplies. Jane started pulling a few things out before proposing that they go out and get whatever supplies Isabelle needed for school. "Sounds great mom. We can go now," Isabelle suggested. Jane smiled, "Okay sweetie, let me just bring these upstairs and well head off." Isabelle went upstairs and waited on the living room couch for her mom to come back down. After about 15 minutes, Jane descended, and the two headed into the car together/ "How about lunch first?" Jane asked Isabelle, as she was buckling in her seatbelt, finding the strap was coming up against her shoulder and neck a little too high. Isabelle did her best to adjust it, before agreeing, "sounds great mom." Jane took off, and made a point of stopping for some fast food for lunch - a rare treat for Isabelle, as it rarely occurred. Isabelle and Jane opted to go inside, Jane remarking that she didn't want anyone "spilling in the car," as though that was likely. After ordering, Isabelle and Jane sat at a table near the playground, as it was the only one available, and ate quickly to a chorus of giggles, laughter, and stomping around the various tubes, slides, and ball pits that the kids were running around. "Not so long ago that you were running around in there," Jane said to Isabelle with a wink. Isabelle snorted before replying, "L.O.L. mom. Its been a long time." The conversation ended at that. Isabelle spent the rest of the afternoon running errands with her mom, and going to Rulers to get her school supplies. It only occurred to her when she and her mom were browsing the highlighters that she had not had her coffee that morning, and was feeling rather out of sorts about that. Once they were finished, Isabelle's mom put all of the bags into the front seat of the car, leaving Isabelle to ride in the back. And though her mom had promoted the outing, she had only mentioned school supplies; there was no mention of going to the bank, and the pharmacy, and to a store to pick up a gift. Isabelle was starting to grow frustrated with the trip - ' this is not what I agreed to.' Apparently Isabelle's face had revealed her feelings. Jane, spotting her in the rearview mirror, started teasing her a bit "Aw. Is someone grumpy back there? You used to love running errands with me!" Jane said, thinking on a time when that was true. Before Isabelle could answer, Jane continued "Don't worry, we are heading home now." Isabelle quickly corrected her attitude, happy to find out they would be going home. Isabelle carried her school supplies in, dropping them at the front door before darting to the bathroom to pee - 'I really need to go,' she thought, slamming her rear end against the toilet seat as soon as she managed to drop her pants. Isabelle wrapped up in the bathroom on the main floor, she stepped out, heading back to the front door to collect her school supplies. Only they weren't there, "Mom," Isabelle called out, "where is the stuff from Rulers?" Isabelle could hear her mom respond from downstairs, but couldn't exactly hear what she had said. Isabelle made her way closer to the door to the basement, and asked her mom to repeat herself. "I couldn't hear you mom, where are they?" Jane made her way to the staircase. As soon as Isabelle saw her, she noticed that her mom was clutching her now clean and dry sheets. "I said I put them down in your room hunny." Isabelle was starring at her mother, now uninterested in hte school supplies. "Why are you folding my sheets mom?" Isabelle asked. Part of her was still concerned that her mom had......but she hadn't, of course. Jane smiled at her daughter. "Oh I don't mind sweetie. I just didn't want to forget folding your things. I'll bring your clothes up when I am done. Why don't you go up and pack your things for tomorrow! Its going to be a big day!" Jane finished, before turning back to the laundry room to finish folding her daughter's clothes. Isabelle pondered the idea for a minutes, but instead, decided to take her mom's advice and headed to her room. As Isabelle was climbing the stairs, her mind ventured to what she might expect tomorrow. Her teachers, friends, and classmates would all be treating her like she was younger. She simply needed to play along, and further explore what was happening. Isabelle decided she would use her spare time between classes to head to the library, and see if she could take any books out on the brain, comas, and other potential neurological diseases. 'It's as good of a place I have to start as any," Isabelle thought, as she pushed her closed bedroom door opened. What Isabelle was confronted with. however, was not her bedroom. Or at least, not the bedroom she left. Isabelle's eyes were immediately drawn to her bed. Gone was her intricately designed white and grey comforter. Gone were the two new end tables on either side of her bed. And gone were the drapes covering the windows flanking either side of her bed. Except all of those things were still there - they just weren't the same. Instead, her bed was covered in......'oh god.' The sheets covering her bed were pink...pink with white polka dots. The fitted sheet matched perfectly to the top sheet, which was folded over her...'new?'...comforter on her bed. The upper half of the comforter was turquoise, with white patterned diagonal lines running through the solid color. Isabelle's eyes followed the comforter to the bottom half, which was all white, with designed flowers protruding out of various spots. The wall behind her bed, which was once bare, now sported golden polka dots as well, in an asymmetrical pattern, as though to look like they emerged from her bed. The only thing that appeared the same were her pastel pink drapes, but even those seemed....more juvenile. Isabelle was in shock, but the shock did not end there. There were other changes, subtle, but obvious to her. Her bed still was loaded with pillows...but not the same ones. One pillow just had a flower on it. Another, a quote that said Dream Love Sparkle ..."where did that come from?' Rabbity, of course, was safe and sound, front and center on the bed. 'At least that's the same.' Isabelle wondered what had happened, though to be honest, the new décor had put a smile on her face for some reason. The dresser against the near wall looked...cleaner? On top of it, photos of Isabelle and her mom were stacked from side to side, from vacations that Isabelle couldn't quite remember at this moment. On the far wall, her desk, while seemingly the same, looked extremely tidy. Gone were the pictures with her friends, and in place, little toys and gimmicks Isabelle had once liked to collect. It actually put a smile on her face to see them again...'but those aren't supposed to be there....are they?' Isabelle didn't know what to think. "Everything...everything is..." Isabelle as about to say the word 'wrong' - that everything was wrong. But she couldn't. She couldn't even let the last word escape her mouth. Isabelle stood there silently, trying to gather her thoughts, trying to gather what was wrong. But nothing was - everything felt......"it all feels right," Isabelle said aloud. But that was wrong. Isabelle knew that wrong. It wasn't right. 'But also it is......' Isabelle was struggling immensely with what was going on. It was weighing on her. It was breaking her, breaking her mind..... In that moment, Isabelle couldn't even tell herself what her room had looked like that morning. She had absolutely no memory of it. She knew, of course, that something was not the same, but couldn't for the life of her, figure it out "I'll just ask mom later," Isabelle told herself. Isabelle simply, without questioning anything any further, made her way to the Rulers bags, and carried them over to her desk, and started unpacking everything and putting it on her desk where it belonged. Isabelle did it with a smile, placing each new pen, pencil, marker, highlighter, and folder away with precision, making it as aesthetically pleasing as possible. It took Isabelle quite a bit of time before she was finished. As she was placing the last binder away above her desk, Isabelle heard her mom knock on her door. "Hi sweetie - everything okay up here?" Isabelle turned, startled by her mom's knock. "Yes mom. But one thing. What did you do to my room?" The question was genuine, and open ended, as Isabelle didn't know what had been done. Jane smiled. "I'm glad you noticed." Isabelle inched closer to the edge of her desk chair excited to find out the answer. Jane continued. "I just cleaned up a little bit, you really can't leave your room a mess like that sweetie," Jane said, with a hint of disappointment, before going on. "And if I can't trust you to do your laundry often enough, I am going to have to come in here and do it for you. It was a little smelly in here this morning. Now, come down for dinner." Isabelle was disappointed in herself at that remark. But Isabelle was even more concerned that her mom had come in that morning. 'Did she,....." *gulp*...'seeee?...ohgawd.' And she knew her mom had done more with her room. But Isabelle just couldn't figure out what it was. 'What is happening to me...?' This would have to be yet another clue to study. And Isabelle was genuinely concerned now about whether her mom knew she had wet the bed. And if her mom had seen, had she put two and two together about what had happened at Jess's the night prior. "...No. There's no way. Mom would have definitely brought that all up. Even if it, quite literally, is unbelievable.' Isabelle convinced herself she was right. She needed to. The rest of the evening was uneventful. Isabelle and her mom had dinner together before watching some television. Isabelle did her best to pay attention to whatever show they were watching together, but in truth, she was distracted. Distracted about her mom's remarks, distracted with her plan for the next day, distracted about her room, and distracted with everything that was happening to her. It was mentally exhausting, and the mental exhaustion started taking on a physical exhaustion. And so, whether conscious or not, at some point while they were on the basement couch together, Isabelle's head fell into her mom's lap. Isabelle's eyes were open long enough to watch a few more minutes of TV. She was conscious long enough to feel her mom's hand brush across her cheek, and stroke her hair. She was awake long enough to know, that she had fallen asleep with a smile on her face. *** *** ......."sweetie.....it's time to go to bed." Isabelle awoke to her mom gently shaking her, and whispering into her ear. "Isabelle hunny....time for bed. Big day tomorrow." Isabelle groggily picked her head up, before picking her body up, and heading up to her room. Rather than engage in her normal routine, Isabelle simply changed into a new sleeping shirt, and climbed under her pink polka dot sheets, slipping back into dreamland.

What're you talking about? It was a huge, unexpected twist! Isabelle is much too big of a girl to require such things, don't be absurd. It was a single accident! Could happen to anyone! The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 16 Panic set in, and took control of Isabelle. 'What on earth just happened.' Isabelle had woken up from her deep sleep, startled by the calls from Jess upstairs. Her focus first went to Jess, to the kids, to her job. But immediately thereafter, it went to the warmth, pooling in her pants. Isabelle immediately recognized what was happening. Fortunately - if you can call it that - she had only appeared to start peeing when Jess called her, or sometime around that. Isabelle's first reaction was to cut off her pee, immediately squeezing her thighs together, and stemming the stream. Underneath her pants, Isabelle could tell her panties were thoroughly soaked. But she needed to assess the damage to her pants. Isabelle popped off of the couch with renewed vigor. The panic had her heart rate racing, her body working purely off of adrenaline at this stage. Isabelle's slippers made contact with the floor, and the rest of her body was lifted. Despite having wet herself, Isabelle noted that her ascent was rather graceful, and for some reason, was proud of that fact. 'Really, Iz? Now is not the time,' she chastised herself, though with little credibility. At that moment, Isabelle heard Jess call again for her. "Isabelle? Where are you? Is everything okay?" Jess's voice had just a hint of concern in it. Isabelle knew she had to respond. "Sorry Jess. Yes. Yes. Everything is fine. I am just downstairs. DONT...I mean no need to come down here. I ugh.....ugh...I am coming up in a sec!" Isabelle regretted the emphasis she had placed on the word 'don't,' and so tried to end on a cheerier note, and project some confidence." Isabelle turned back to herself to assess the damage. Though she was wearing dark navy pants, and despite cutting her pee off prematurely, the damage was clear as day: a large, wet patch was clear as could be, right in her crotch where her pants had soaked up her pee. As Isabelle tugged her pants around, she noted that it extended behind her as well, having pooled around her butt a bit, and the large, circular stain was visible front to back. Isabelle was humiliated. 'How could I have allowed this to happen. How could this have happened?!? What the heck is going on with me?' Isabelle felt like crying, right then and there. The smell did not help her cause - it was clear someone had peed down here. There was no way to cover that up. In fact, at this moment, Isabelle was convinced nothing would stop her from exactly that - crying. 'It's the only sensible thing to do...' And then the real terror took over, creeping up her body like a scarab. Isabelle turned her head, ever so slowly to the left, and down. And as she did. She noticed the stain. She had peed on the couch. It shouldn't have been surprising to her. Pants, of course, were not intended to absorb pee like that. 'And it had happened, though rarely, in the past when one of the......' .... ... 'That was it.' Isabelle thought, quietly to herself. Her heart had stabilized to a still rapid, vicious beat. But she had her solution. 'I cannot believe I am about to do this.' Isabelle was ashamed that she had wet herself, and equally ashamed about what she was about to do. 'But what choice do I have?' Isabelle immediately took off her sweatshirt, and began tying it around her waist. The bulk of the wetness in her pants was visible from the rear, and so she did her best to let the body of the sweatshirt cover that part of her pants up. There was no mirror downstairs, but based on her review, Isabelle had done a pretty decent job. Isabelle looked down at the front of her pants. She had tied the sweatshirt arms over one wet spot, but it wouldn't be enough. Mind scrambling, eyes, darting, Isabelle's attention turned to the laundry room. She sprinted her way over there, searching desperately for what she hoped...'YES'. Isabelle had found her treasure - a bucket of cleaning supplies. Isabelle pulled the entire bucket out, and went to the couch. She grabbed one spray bottle of cleaning solution - no attention was paid to the type, - and began applying it to the area of the couch where......'where I peed.' Isabelle then stashed the cleaning solution back in the bucket, and carried the entire cleaning bucket up with her toward the stairs. 'If I do this right, they'll never know,' Isabelle told herself. It would need to be perfect. Isabelle's heart raced faster with each step she took up the stairs. The silence of her prowl up the stairs was palpable, fearful that each time her ballet slipper made contact with the next stair, it might creak. Stealthily, Isabelle reached for the doorknob, twisting it, and pushing the door open, quickly retreating her hand to the cleaning bucket, and positioning it oddly near her crotch, covering the stain. Isabelle took a deep breath, and emerged. Almost immediately, Isabelle was confronted by Jess's warm smile. It put Isabelle at ease, so much so that for the first time since she woke up, she noticed that she still needed to pee. Isabelle began to notice, at once, the cool, slimminess of her underwear, nestled against her, a single drop of....pee....dripping from it and trickling down her leg. The droplet send goosebumps down her spine. "Hi Iz! How was everyth......what's with the bucket? Did something happen?" Isabelle watched Jess's smile fade, shifting to concern. Isabelle was prepared for the question, she only hoped her excuse would work. "Hey Jess....Yah, kids were great. They listened, and ate, and were pretty good the whole night," Isabelle started. "They both went to sleep pretty easily, though I expect Eric will have a surprise for you in the morning," Isabelle delivered with a smile. Humor would help her deal with this, she prayed. It was the moment of truth. "There was...ummm...one problem, butisnobiddealIllfixit!" Isabelle stammered the last sentence into one word. Jess had eased up, but was still waiting to hear why Isabelle was holding a cleaning bucket. "You see....Uhh after Eric went to bed...uh...Becky, see, she uh.....she wanted to play hide and seek. So I told her that was fine." Isabelle hoped her lie was convincing. She herself was hardly convinced of it. Isabelle continued. "See....Becky was doing so good with the potty - I mean bathroom all night. I kept checking her. And she was dry all night, you see." If Isabelle was about to throw this toddler under the bus, she would at least have the good graces to build her up first. "so..uh....uh...Becky wanted to hide first, and I said that was fine. So I was counting, and I heard her pitter patter down the stairs, you know, how they pitter patter, right?" Jess's smile returned at this. Unbeknownst to Isabelle, Jess knew exactly where this was going. She was, after all, a mom. But Jess allowed Isabelle to continue. And continue Isabelle did. "So I must have only been 'searching' for like 2 or 3 minutes. You know,.....I uh...wanted to let her feel good about herself. And then I went downstairs to find her and get her ready for bed, you see?" Isabelle couldn't believe what she was about to do. In fact, it wasn't too late to back out. She could confess. Sure, it would be mortifying. But it would be the grown up thing to do. Her mom's recent words to her echoed in her mind: "the truth is sweetie, what you're going to have to learn to do, what a grown up learns to do, is that you need to accept the things that are happening, let them happen, all of it. And once you do, you can learn how to deal with those things." Maybe Isabelle just needed to accept that this happened...that she was having bladder issues, and fess up to Jess. Not only was it...well...true, but it was the right thing to do. ... ... 'Are you nuts?' Isabelle thought to herself, snapping out of her moment of honesty. 'You can't tell this woman you peed on her couch. I will literally die.' And so, Isabelle proceeded with her lie - 'there really is no other option!' "So I went to the basement, and on my way down there, I could hear some sobbing, you see." Isabelle would have to be careful about this next part, especially since there was quite a bit of pee for a toddler on that couch. It needed to be plausible, even if it was at Becky's expense. "So I started rushing because I was worried that Becky had hurt herself. But on my to her, I deduced what it really was." Isabelle took a breath, and went on. "Next to the couch I found Becky's dry pullup. She must have taken it off, maybe because she thought the noise would reveal her spot," Isabelle proposed, trying to make Becky come out of this in the best light possible. It wasn't working, as Jess literally covered her mouth with aghast at hearing this. There was no backing out now, though. "And so I found her under a blanket on the couch, and she had apparently had an accident while hiding there." Isabelle couldn't believe the words escaped her mouth. She had literally just thrown a toddler under the bus. She had blamed a toddler for a pee accident that belonged to her, an 18 year old, on the couch. Isabelle needed to wrap this up though. "She was distraught, and so I took her upstairs and put her into a clean pullup, and put her to bed. I don't think she wants to talk about it," Isabelle said, hoping that Jess might not bring it up to her daughter, though that was doubtful., "and after she went to bed, I just tried to clean up the mess. And that's when you came in. I'm really sorry Jess!" Jess had been silent the whole time Isabelle was speaking, collecting her thoughts. She looked at Isabelle, and gave her a smile. "It's fine sweetie. It's not your fault. I cannot believe my Becky did that though. Taking her pullup off? She's never done that before. I don't know why she thought she would get away with something like that." Jess looked genuinely disappointed in her daughter. And it was all Isabelle's fault. Jess shook it off, at least for the moment. "No matter. Why don't you give me that, you don't need to clean the mess, and you can head home? You did a wonderful job tonight. It's just a shame my infant behaved better than my toddler," Jess joked, trying to make light of the situation. Isabelle hesitated. She couldn't hand the bucket over without revealing her deception. Part two of her plan required grabbing her bag, and quickly swapping it out for the bucket, so she could continue to cover the front her wet pants, which continued to cool and press against her legs. "Ummm.... Okay. Let me just grab my bag," Isabelle nearly shouted. 'Why am I speaking so loud?' Isabelle navigated and shifted around Jess awkwardly, prompting a laugh from Jess as Isabelle made her way to the front of the house. The problem, of course, was that Jess was reaching out for the bucket. And Isabelle was out of excuses. She was approaching quickly, and basically had one hand on the bucket to pull it away... ... ...when a miracle happened. Eric. Wonderful, beautiful, perfect Eric. He was crying on the monitor. Jess's arms stopped at the moment her hand had a grasp on the bucket. "Oh...looks like someone knows their mommy is home." Jess said playfully to Isabelle, releasing her grip and heading up the stairs. Isabelle was now wet in her armpits as well, sweating profusely. Jess was climbing the stairs as she called down to Isabelle, "I bet my baby needs a new diaper. Little does he know he wont be the only one wearing diapers tomorrow," Jess turned back to Isabelle, to continue with the joke, "No he won't, will he Iz?" Jess said, smiling, and then winking to her, before turning around and walking to Eric's room. Isabelle knew the joke was about Becky - or sure as hell hoped so. Nevertheless, Isabelle went all red with embarrassment at the thought Jess might be referring to her....at the though that Jess saw through her lies. Isabelle musted a simple "...haha yah.." in response. In reality, her lie will have caused Becky to return to diapers, at least part time, something the poor girl didn't deserve. 'What choice did I have?' Isabelle continued to ask herself, knowing that there in fact was, an answer. She could have owned up. 'No matter, more present problems.' Isabelle didn't hesitate for a second, putting the bucket down and swapping it out for her bag at the front door. Isabelle quickly made sure she was covered, just as Jess emerged from Eric's bedroom with the little boy on her hip. "Indeed he did leave me a present Iz, just like you said!" Jess was smiling, happy to be home with her kids. Isabelle took the opportunity to excuse herself, mustering a goodbye and turning to the door. The three feet to the door felt more like 30 yards. Isabelle reached for the doorknob, moments away from her escape, when suddenly, she heard Jess call to her. "Wait. Isabelle." Isabelle's heart stopped with her body. 'Had Jess seen something.' Isabelle remained frozen in place as she heard Jess step down each step with purpose. 'I'm caught. How on earth am I going to explain this,' Isabelle thought, before finding the courage, or sense, to turn around and meet Jess's eye. Jess started to reach out her hand toward Isabelle, no doubt to push her bag aside and reveal her accident. 'I am done for,' Isabelle resigned herself to her fate. "...Your money sweetie. Thank you for watching the kids. I'm sure they loved having such a big girl like you around," Jess said, adding a wink to the exchange, and placing $50 into Isabelle's sweaty palm. Isabelle sighed a huge sigh of relief, thanked Jess, and then quickly backed her way out of the house, and onto the porch. Once the door was closed behind her, Isabelle was able to do what she had wanted to for the past half-hour; Isabelle stood on the stoop, and started bawling. The cool, evening breeze against her legs and pants reminded her more than ever that she had peed in her pants. Isabelle was wet. And unhappy. And standing on a porch, crying about it. And even though she knew it was hardly the most mature sight or behavior, she had nothing left in the tank, and simple stayed there crying for a few minutes, praying that neither Jess nor John would see or hear her. After what was the better part of ten minutes, Isabelle managed to brave her way down the stairs, her wet panties rubbing against her thighs and pressing against her....well her vagina. With each step, she grew more and more uncomfortable, and even the short trek home seemed like a gauntlet. Still in tears, Isabelle made her way back to her house, confronted with yet another problem; she would need to get by her mother without getting caught in her wet pants and panties. While Isabelle had an excuse to get around Jess, she was less confident - and without ideas - to sneak around her mom. Isabelle would just need to hope her mom was already in bed. As she made her way home, Isabelle started to wipe the tears from her face. Isabelle couldn't put her finger on it, but for some reason, a warmth emanating from her slippers started to take hold of her body. It was the strangest thing, but, it made her feel better. The warm comfort that spread from her slippers, up her legs, through her arms, and to her heart, made the whole mess....less awful. Though not possible, it also made the cold, clammy wet pants and panties feel a little less so, almost warmer. Though still gross, it was better than when it was cold. Isabelle climbed the steps to her home, and pulled her key out of the bag handing in front of her. Slowly, she turned the key into the door, and pushed it open, happy to note that the light downstairs was already off. Isabelle made her way in, closed and locked the door behind her, before tiptoeing on pointe up the stairs to her bedroom. Isabelle could see a light on in her mom's bedroom, but quickly made her way to her room, and closed the door behind her. "Thank god," Isabelle remarked to herself, pressing her back against her door, and without thinking, sliding down it, all the way until her butt reached the ground, sitting in her own pee. The act hardly phased her in that moment - she was simply happy to be home. After a few minutes, Isabelle stood up, stripped her wet clothes off of her body. As she slid her sweatpants off of her, she noted how much larger the wet stain in the rear had expanded, likely not completely covered by her sweatshirt. 'I can only hope that Jess didn't see this.' Isabelle then peeled the absolutely soaked panties off of her hips, and down her legs, the liquid preserved in them seemingly dripping out against her legs as she tugged them off. Naked, Isabelle made her way to bathroom. She immediately sat down on the toilet, and released the now urgent, remaining pee in her body, into the porcelain toilet bowl, before getting up, and getting into a warm shower. Isabelle took her time, enjoying the warm water falling against her, feeling it wash away the tears, wash away the embarrassment, wash away....the pee. After her first body wash, Isabelle took the time to process what was going on with her - the first time she had been able to this weekend. After Wednesday, it was clear her mother thought she was several years younger than she really was. The school as well.....'perhaps they didn't think it was a mistake having me dance with the younger girls.' Furthermore, her friends all but confirmed their own thoughts on Friday....'they acted like I was going to be in different classes than them. Classes we took together years ago.' Isabelle concluded, though unable to actually remember having taken those classes, as hard as she tried to remember. 'But they were still so sweet, and otherwise normal.' Isabelle was struggling to put all of her clues together. 'And Dani and Lola would never, ever just mess with me. Something more is going on...' 'And there was more,' Isabelle thought, as she started to shampoo her hair, 'Jess was acting so strange tonight.' Isabelle noted, trying to recall what had happened when she entered the house. 'She treated me like it was my first time there.....AND SO DID MOM, now that I think about it.' Isabelle added these clues to her list. 'Jess even gave me the 'rundown' about emergency numbers and what not....But I've been babysitting those kids for yea..' Isabelle stopped short, pausing, and again realizing that though she knew she had sat for those kids before, she couldn't think of a single time beyond the week prior. 'When Becky actually had had an accident...' 'And of course, there was Mr. Barns, who pretended like he didn't even know me at all.' It was an odd collection of facts, but at least things were starting to come together. 'They all think I am younger, but why. Why do they think I am younger?" As Becky pondered the question, she began to apply a second round of body wash to herself, feeling the need to wash the dirt, grime, urine, and night away. As she did so, this time, her attention was caught on more than just the facts she had identified so far, but on ones she had been ignoring for some time. Isabelle massaged the soap onto her arms, noticing that a number of her childhood freckles had been returning there as well. Her arms felt, smaller, thinner, than they had been just one week ago. Isabelle noted that, despite having not shaved in nearly 2 weeks now, there was barely any hair in her armpits to be spoken of. Isabelle continued washing her body, down from her neck, and to her breasts. Though she never had particularly large breasts, Isabelle could feel they were smaller, cupping them more easily. Not only that, they were firmer, more dense, than perhaps they had used to feel, the areola around her nipples also having receded a noticeable amount. As she made her way down her body, she continued washing her stomach, her hips, and her back, all of which felt....different. As she made her way further down, Isabelle noted that she also seemed to lack her usual public hair, which though always well kempt, was nothing more than a naturally light covering of, blonde hairs, mostly centered closer to her vagina. Isabelle made a point of thoroughly cleaning the area. Her legs, to no surprise, lacked their regular amount of hair, and strangely enough, her feet looked considerably smaller....'no, just less...no definitely smaller,' to her on review. Her body now lathered in soap, Isabelle accepted what she had refused to before, what she knew might be happening when she first struggled to reach her coffee mug, what terrified her when she couldn't fit into her leotards...'I mean Lola's leotards...', and what petrified her when she had to wear Dani's old one-piece suit: Isabelle herself was getting smaller. 'What could possibly be causing all of this? I must be sick or something,' Isabelle guessed, though knowing there was no true illness that made you de-age. 'At least not that anyone has discovered yet.' There was also another factor. Another clue. One that Isabelle knew existed - it was the precise reason she was in a shower tonight. But not one that she was willing to cope with, to admit, to accept. Not yet. It was not a clue which she would speak aloud, not one she was even willing to allow to occupy her thoughts. It was a clue that would likely help her solve this mystery, but not one she would consider. "I can solve this without that,' Isabelle concluded, daring to even address the thought. Though if she were being honest, she wasn't sure that was quite true. As she turned off the shower, and wrapped herself up in a towel, Isabelle reduced the facts she was able to investigate to the following: 1. Everyone believes me to be younger 2. I cannot seem to remember things that I know have happened, but cannot point to. 3. My body appears, at least, to be shrinking. 4. "___" With those in mind, Isabelle revisited her original theories. A prank, considering the complexity when factoring in the number of people that would need to be involved, could be ruled out. A coma, unfortunately, could not. 'Did I bang my head when I was dancing,' Isabelle wondered. 'But what is there to do, if it was a coma? Do I simply wait until I wake up?' Isabelle pondered. Though not exactly the same situation, in book two of the Emerald Chronicles, the Viscountess of Sapphire Grove had suffered a similar coma like event, where escape relied on her solving the mystery of her sisters murder in her coma. 'Perhaps I need to solve the mystery of my shrinking?' Isabelle deduced. it was certainly worth pursuing. There were other theories, of course, but nonet that Isabelle would pay heed to. Unless she observed some other material change around her, it would be absurd to think that the planet being absorbed into a wormhole had the single effect of making her shrink and forgetful, while preserving everything else. And Isabelle was not prepared to entertain make believe theories of magic, when there remained perfectly plausible explanations like a 'Coma-journey' that were on the table. 'I'll continue my investigation with this as the operative theory, and we will go from there.' Who the "we" was, Isabelle did not quite know, feeling incredibly lonely in her crusade for the truth. The night had been long, exhausting....overwhelming. Isabelle had had enough. Rather than doing the laundry tonight, Isabelle kicked aside her wet panties and pants, and made her way to her dresser to find some pajamas. Despite her search, the best she could find this evening was a long sleeping shirt, with a picture of some animated animals on the front. Slipping it on, Isabelle turned and reached down to grab her ballet slippers - the only thing offering her any comfort of late - and lovingly returned them to their box, placing them near the floor of her closet. With that, Isabelle climbed into bed, and within seconds, was fast asleep.

You and me both! Glad you are enjoying! It begs the question, doesn't it? The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 15 The rest of the sleepover was really nice, though Isabelle was never quite at ease. The girls had each rinsed off from the pool quickly in the outdoor shower, and changed into their pajamas, Isabelle opting for a matching black and white set she had never remembered owning, but which was really cute. Isabelle never found another opportunity to probe her friends for more information. Not only did the opportunity not present itself, but if it had, Isabelle surely would have missed it. On top of this ridiculous age misunderstanding issue - which was preposterous of course - Isabelle was growing more and more concerned with not only the frequency, but the urgency with which she needed to pee. Its not that the situation was getting worse. Rather, it was that it was not getting better. 'Basically, since Wednesday night, it hasn't been very good.....and I can't figure out why. I've never had this before....Maybe I have a UTI or something?' Isabelle truly wondered In fact, the events of yesterday, when she had woken up twice, desperate to use the bathroom, were stuck with her - not to mention the fact that she hadn't completely, possibly by astronomical chance, freak mistake, had a tiny not-not noticeable issue with holding it...And tonight, she had to nearly run to the toilet from the hot tub just to make it in time. Sure, it didn't help that the one-piece bathing suit she was forced to wear had to be completely removed. But still......'perhaps its just stress, with me dealing with everything else going on....That's probably what it is. And at least it isn't getting worse.' That said, when Dani and Lola proposed making 'midnight milkshakes' to have with their movie, alarms went off in Isabelle's mind. Isabelle was not sure why she woke up with such a full bladder twice the prior day, but drinking a giant milkshake certainly wasn't going to help her cause. That said, she was definitely having a milkshake, because, well 'I'm not a sadist,' Isabelle concluded. As Dani and Lola began mixing together the ice cream ('hmmm mint chip!'), the milk, ice, and other ingredients, Isabelle took out her phone, feigning searching through social media. In reality, Isabelle had made a commitment to herself: 'there will be no pot - bathroom scares at her friend's house. God forbid I have a........at Dani's? Jeez....' Isabelle questioned whether she could come back from that. So, like a responsible young lady, Isabelle set some alarms. 'Well, why don't I just set a few. 2 AM....and Maybe 4 AM also.' ... ... ... 'at this point, might as well do 6 AM too. I mean, its just to get up and pee, and I'll go right back to bed!' It was, Isabelle concluded, the smartest thing to do. Dani broke Isabelle out of her intense thoughts, handing her a milkshake "Got something important on your mind there?" Dani joked. "I could practically see the gears in overdrive through your eyes." Isabelle merely laughed it off, "Ha Ha, very funny. I was just.....thinking about stuff." Lola jumped in, just as she passed them to head down the stairs, "The only thing anyone needs to think about is what movie we are going to watch tonight. What's it going to be ladies?!?!" She practically shouted, jaunting down the stairs. Dani and Isabelle laughed, following in tow. Ultimately, the girls settled on a movie called "Miss Granny." It was an adaptation from a South Korean movie by the same name. Lola recommended it after seeing it on Getflix the prior evening, and remembering that Victoria had recommended it after seeing it. So the three girls each settled into their respective movie chair, using the electronic pad on each to lounge the chairs out. As the movie played, all three thoroughly enjoyed their milkshakes. Isabelle couldn't get enough of it in fact, and embarrassingly, had sucked too much up at one point while laying, dribbling a little bit on her pajama shirt on accident. Her friends had not seemed to notice. They paused the movie at one point when Dani's parents came home, just long enough to politely say hello. When Isabelle had said hello, Ms. Murphy - who insisted they call her Ellen - eyes caught the stain on her shirt, and Isabelle went a little flush with embarrassment. Dani's mom hung around a bit longer to make sure the girls were okay, and let Dani know that Alex was staying over at his friend Lucas's, before leaving. After the movie had ended, the three girls, full, and tired, sluggishly made their way up the stairs toward their bedrooms. One of the materially different parts of staying at Dani and Lola's was, that each girl had their own bedroom. Isabelle always stayed in Dani's former room, the guest room adjacent to Dani's, whereas Lola preferred the larger of the two guest bedrooms on the other side of the upstairs hall. The girls said their goodnights, brushed and washed, and then headed to their respective bedrooms. Isabelle, however, did not get directly into bed. Instead, she waited until she was confident that enough time had passed, before heading to the bathroom. While Dani and Lola were perfectly comfortable peeing in front of her - and pee they did - Isabelle feigned no interest in peeing, before retiring to her room. That said, the milkshake had gone right through her, and she did in fact, need to pee. So, confident the other girls were in bed, Isabelle creaked her door open, slid out, and slipped into the bathroom. Using the light on her phone to guide her - she didn't want to turn the bathroom light on, lest light seep into Dani's room - Isabelle sat down on the toilet and started to pee. 'At least I'll get this all out of me now, so maybe I won't have to go again tonight.' It certainly made sense, but Isabelle was not so confident that she turned any of her alarms off. Isabelle wiped, flushed, and washed her hands quickly, before darting back to her room, and silently closing the door behind her. Before getting into bed, Isabelle had one more item to take care of. And so, Isabelle went over to her bag, shifted some clothes around, and claimed her prize - Rabbity, sitting at the bottom of the bag. She wasn't sure why, but, it comforted her to have Rabbity on the bed. Isabelle didn't hold Rabbity while she slept - 'I'm not a child' - it simply brought her comfort to have Rabbity watch over her. Treasure in tow, Isabelle climbed into the bed - literally, the bed was higher off the ground than usual - and positioned Rabbity on the far side of the bed, so Rabbity could survey the door properly. Isabelle checked her phone -'12:48 AM' - before setting it on the nightstand next to her. Finally, Isabelle pulled the covers over her, around her body, and tightly against her chest, cocooning herself in to the warm bliss of the bed. And within seconds, Isabelle was fast asleep. ... ... Isabelle shot awake at the very first sound her alarm had made. In fact, it had barely rung before she was up, turning it off as rapidly as possible as to not risk anyone else in the house waking up. Isabelle quickly uncovered herself, making sure not to knock Rabbity over, and made her way out of the bedroom, to the bathroom, using her phone light to navigate her way there. It had not even registered to Isabelle before she sat down on the toilet, but she in fact, did need to pee. 'Glad I set that alarm,' she thought to herself, though not willing to admit that she wouldn't have made it to the morning and been fine. 'Its not like I'd actually ever wet the bed. This was just insurance.' Isabelle wrapped up, and quietly and quickly made her way back to bed. It took Isabelle a little longer to get comfortable again, but after a half hour or so, she was fast asleep. ... .... *RING* *RING*. Grumpily, Isabelle blindly threw her hand out, reaching for her phone, finding it on her third attempt. Inadvertently, she had hit her hand pretty hard against the night stand on the second swipe, so her hand was throbbing while she shut the alarm off. '4:00 AM? Why am I up at 4:00...' It took a minute to register why. 'Oh ya.' With less energy than she had previously, Isabelle forced herself out of bed, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. With less grace, Isabelle opened her door, and hunchbacked, groggily shifted her body into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a louder bang than she would have wanted. Isabelle say down on the toilet, and scrolled through some apps on her phone. Isabelle didn't feel the need to pee, but figured she was up and would try. And, after a few minutes of scrolling, Isabelle did in fact get a decent stream of pee going - more than she anticipated considering she had already peed twice that night. Convinced there were no more fluids in her body, Isabelle rose, flushed, washed, and heaved her body back to bed. This time, Isabelle simply fell forward on the bed, shifting her body to get in under the covers. Unfortunately, it took Isabelle quite a bit to fall asleep, and she was feeling aggravated that the sun would be up shortly. Eventually, though, she was back to dreamland. ... .... Isabelle's alarm had likely been blaring for a full minute or two before she even reacted. It felt like she had just fallen asleep, and here she was, awake again. Grumpy, tired, and uncomfortable, Isabelle grabbed her phone very aggressively, smacking the screen with her fingers until she hit the "off" button on the alarm. '6:02 AM. This was definitely overkill. I. am. exhausssssted...ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh' Isabelle's mind was hardly functioning as she repeated the process she had at 2 AM, and again at 4 AM, progressively with less grace. This time, however, Isabelle really didn't need to pee. Yet, she was simply content to sit on the toilet, almost catching herself falling asleep with her head in her lap. That was, until she was started awake by a few droplets of pee escaping her. Content with her results, Isabelle made her way back to the bedroom, not bothering to wash her hands again. She simply, well, didn't have the energy. Her mind, body, and very soul felt exhausted. And though she climbed back into bed hoping to fall asleep, sleep never came. Instead, she sat there, without a thought, without complaint, without moving, and watched the sun progressively rise and move across her room through the holes in the slated window shades. Isabelle stayed like that until she heard the door to Dani's room open up, and her friend make her way downstairs. Isabelle checked her phone - '8:14....I'm calling quits on this sleep thing. time to get up.' It took every bit of energy for Isabelle had to simply pull herself out of bed, as she set her bare feet on the ground, and managed to find the strength to lift her butt off of the mattress, Isabelle was confronted with her reflection; her appearance was much like it had been the night prior, the only differences being that she had obviously failed to tie her now wacky hair properly before she went to sleep, and that her eyes revealed her exhaustion. Isabelle looked away, embarrassed slightly by her own reflection, though admittedly finding herself cute otherwise. Isabelle took a deep breath, and made her way out of the bedroom, heading down to the kitchen. Isabelle was not surprised when she saw Lola already downstairs, chatting away with Ms. - 'I mean Ellen' - about who knows what. More surprising was the fact that Dani was also down there. More often that not, one of Lola or Isabelle left Saturday morning after sleepovers at Dani's while she was still in bed. But this morning, here she was, already sipping away at a cup of coffee. Isabelle made her way over to the coffee machine as she politely smiled and greeted her friends. Looking upward, Isabelle opened a cupboard, searching for a mug. Unfortunately for her, it seemed the mugs were kept on quite a high shelf - 'they must have been moved.' and Isabelle doubted she could reach it. As though sensing her dilemma, Ellen got up, came by and kindly took a mug down, sparing Isabelle the need to request one. "Thanks Ellen!" Isabelle said, graciously. "Not a problem kiddo,' Ellen replied, taking her leave, but not before mentioned "Don't have too much of that.' Isabelle ignored Ellen's warning, 'Coffee will be needed today,' and poured herself a generous cup, before shifting around to the island to chat with her friends. Isabelle noted the time on the microwave - 8:26 - and recalled her mom would be here before the end of the hour. Isabelle, exhausted from having woken up several times, spent her remaining time at Dani's simply listening to her friends chatter away. Isabelle's only contribution that morning was to confess that she hadn't slept great, and reveal that her plan for the day was to go to the school, and get some practice done in one of the small studios. Lola suggested she might be around as well, and they made a plan to connect if Lola ultimately joined. At 9:05, Isabelle's phone chimed, informed her that her mom was outside the gate. Isabelle let her know that Dani would open it for her - Isabelle was not going to be walking down the slope tonight - and headed upstairs quickly to get her bag, almost forgetting Rabitty on the bed. Isabelle said her goodbyes, and made her way out to her mom's car, Jane sitting in the front seat smiling. Jane noticed that Isabelle was very quiet in the car. In fact, Jane almost immediately recognized that Isabelle looked exhausted. "Did you not sleep well last night sweetie?" Jane asked. Isabelle barely showed energy enough to turn her head, but managed a "not great mom, but I'm fine." Her daughter three, deep yawn between Dani's and home suggested otherwise. "I'll be quick," Isabelle said to Jane, as they pulled into the driveway. Jane merely nodded, and waited for her daughter to come out with her ballet bag so she could drop her off at school. As Jane waited in the car, she took a moment to appreciate the beautiful day. Birds were still chirping away at the morning sun, which though warm to the touch, complimented the cool, breezy day. 'There would not be many more days like this,' she thought to herself, both grateful and dismayed by the seasonal changes. 'Before you know it, there will be snow on the ground." Jane then turned her eyes to the car clock - Isabelle was sure taking her time. Jane was appreciating a particularly aromatic, warm breeze that came through the driver's side window, when her daughter emerged from the front door. Isabelle had dressed for her weekend practice, rather than change at school. Jane watched as Isabelle made sure the door was locked behind her, before stepping down each step from the front door, her messy bun not quite tied as neatly as it usually was. Jane notice that Isabelle had also opted for the purple leotard that just this past week, she had looked at with disgust. Jane chuckled to herself, 'teens can be so moody sometimes,' before settling into a smile, thankful that it appeared to fit her so well. Isabelle had a pair of sweats on, covering her tights. But what truly brought a smile to Jane's face was that Isabelle was already wearing her ballet slippers. 'She really does enjoy them," Jane concluded. Isabelle hopped back into the front seat, smiling at her mom with a little more energy. "Sorry for the delay mom. I ...err....needed to use the toilet. The coffee at Dani's always upsets my stomach," Isabelle noted, embarrassed to have shared the information with her mom. What Isabelle did not admit was that she had practically jogged up the stairs the second she entered the house to the toilet. "I also decided to change here - much easier." Jane just smiled back, opting not to make a remark about her daughter's bathroom duties. 'Hehe...duties.' Jane laughed at her own immaturity. "No problem sweetie," before backing the car out, and sputtering off to school. "Don't forget you are babysitting for Eric and Becky tonight. If you do a good job, I am sure Jess will give you more work this year." Isabelle nodded. She had not forgotten, but her mom's remark was odd. 'They give me work every year? Why would this time be more important.' Isabelle was going to retort, but thought better of it. She had planned to use one of the small ballet studios all day, and quite frankly, she didn't have the energy to fight her mom on some nonsense. Jane's Toyota made the last ascent up to Higgins, heaving the last few yards before pulling up to more flat, easy terrain. Isabelle blew her mom a kiss before hopping out, and darting off to one of the small studios. Isabelle enjoyed coming to the school on weekends. The facilities were all open to the students. More importantly, it was quiet, and Isabelle relished these times when she could simply focus on her dancing. Isabelle made her way down the main corridor, to the back stairwell which led to the studio she liked to use. Isabelle noticed a few students and faculty around, likely preparing for the start of term on Monday. Isabelle nodded and smiled as she passed people, trying her hardest to avoid conversation, lest she be distracted from her purpose. Isabelle made her way into the small studio, thankful that it was empty. Isabelle set her bags down, removed her sweatpants, and went to the far corner of the room to set her phone into the speaker system, playing a soft tune for her to warm up to. Isabelle took a deep breath....and another. "Okay Iz," she started telling herself out loud. "You are exhausted. But the best dancers fight through it. Be the best." She needed the coaching today, and no one else was around to offer it. When Isabelle had entered the empty dance studio, she had been feeling a bit nervous. Now that she was here, however, she felt at home, secure in her leotard, secure in her pink tights, secure in her most prized possession - her ballet slippers. Isabelle turned to stare at herself in the mirror, eyes immediately drawn to the slippers. For whatever reason, that simple feeling of rightness, of certainaty....it always came when she wore them. 'I was meant to wear these,' Isabelle determined, 'and wear them I shall!' Isabelle started by stretching her legs, taking deep breaths to increase her oxygen flow, and steady her nerves. She then moved on to pliés, bending her knees and working on her posture. She could feel her muscles starting to loosen up as she moved through the exercises she knew all too well. Next, Isabelle moved on to tendus, extending her legs out and pointing her toes. With each pointe, she smiled, staring at her perfect slippers. She continued, worked on her balance, slowly rising onto the balls of her feet and then lowering herself back down. She repeated this exercise several times, feeling her core muscles engaging with each movement. As she continued her warm-up routine, Isabelle could feel her body becoming more limber and agile. She felt her heart rate rising and her blood pumping as she moved through the familiar steps. Finally, after about 40-45 minutes of warming up, Isabelle felt ready to start practicing her routine. The warmup itself was more tiring than usual, likely because she had slept so poorly. Nevertheless, Isabelle felt ready to go. Isabelle went to the corner, and set her playlist for some routines she had performed in the past......'Had I performed these?' Isabelle stared at her phone, questioning something she was all too certain about a moment prior. 'No......no I don't think I did....maybe I watched them....or someone else perform them?' That thought prompted a warm comfort from her slippers, and Isabelle felt affirmed in her conclusion. 'Yah....I must have just seen these. Silly me!' Isabelle positioned herself at the barre and began to dance, gracefully moving from one position to the next. Her movements were precise and fluid, a testament to years of practice and dedication. 'A testament to my slippers,' she added, seemingly without thinking. For the next few hours, Isabelle danced with passion and focus, working on perfecting her technique and mastering various subsets of routines. Between routines, Isabelle would work in breaks, either to drink water, or simply have a rest. And though she had convinced herself she had never performed these routines before, Isabelle was amazed at how naturally they came to her. As she danced, she lost herself in the music and the movement, forgetting all of her worries and focusing only on the beauty of the dance. Notably, however, the odd transportations that had plagued her past showcase never occurred. Isabelle had feared.....or hoped.....that it might happen again. But when it hadn't, Isabelle carried on. 'These are all additional clues to note,' Isabelle thought, '"For the absence of an event is a clue in itself!"' Isabelle realized she was continuing to quote the cluefinders, something that didn't bother her nearly as much as she thought it would. 'Maybe Becky will want to watch....' Isabelle thought, dipping into another plié as the music and the dance took over her mind and body again. As the music continued, Isabelle moved away from the barre and began to dance across the studio, twirling and leaping with abandon. She felt alive and free, lost in the music and the beauty of the dance. Isabelle began to feel the sense of peace and focus wash over her again. She loved the way ballet allowed her to forget about everything else and just focus on the movement, focus on her body, focus on her...slippers, which never left her mind. As the music concluded on her last set routine, Isabelle collapsed to the studio floor, completely beat from her performance. Isabelle was exhausted, but exhilarated. She knew she had put in her best effort and was proud of the progress she had made today. 'It wasn't easy coming here today, but I am glad I did.' Isabelle went to her bags in the corner, intending to swap out her slippers for shoes, when she realized, she failed to bring her sneakers. "Guess that means I am wearing you two later!" Secretly, she was not so disappointed. The rest of the afternoon had been one exhausting blur. After she finished showering, changing, and eating two power bars she had packed in her bag, Isabelle had spent an hour or so in the library, intending to mill about. However, Mr. Barns had caught her on her way to one of the isolated reading table, and immediately engaged Isabelle in conversation. "Ah, Miss..... I don't believe we've met? Are you a student here?" Isabelle paused for a moment, confused by the librarian's reaction. Had he forgotten who she was? Mr. Barns was old...but not that old. "Mr. Barns...It's me, Isabelle?" she replied, confusingly. Isabelle studied Mr. Barns' face as he processed the information. He seemed no more sure of who Isabelle was as he continued, even if he pretended otherwise. "Ah....yes.....Isabelle. Of course Isabelle!" Whether he was being honest or not, it felt good to be talking to Mr. Barns. "I do have a favor of you, Miss Isabelle, if you wouldn't mind." Mr. Barns' was preparing to make a proposal, but it was odd. The manner in which he was speaking to her was almost....condescending? Isabelle couldn't quite put her finger on it. Nevertheless, she entertained the man's request. Unfortunately for Isabelle, this meant helping Mr. Barns re-stack some books - "It'll be good for you, to learn the lay of the library," Mr. Barns had claimed. 'What is he on about?' Isabelle wondered, but nevertheless, begrudgingly offering to help. So, when Isabelle's mom had finally arrived at about 4:30, Isabelle was completely, utterly, entirely, wiped. She wanted nothing more than to collapse into the front seat of her mom's car and go to sleep. Jane, however, shared some news that would not allow for it. "Hi Hunny! How was your practice? What did you think of the ballet studio?" Isabelle starred at her mom before answering. "Hi Mom...it was good...really good actually. And the studio was like any other, nothing to report." Jane smiled back at her daughter. "Well good. So it wont be a change for you this year. The high school's auditoriums are supposed to be fantastic though!" Isabelle had wanted to ask her mom what she meant by that, but before she could, Jane cut her off again. "I need to take you straight to Jessica's sweetie. They called and asked if you could come a little earlier instead. But don't worry, they said they would be home earlier too. I said it was fine." Isabelle groaned. She had been looking forward to going home and resting a bit before working tonight. Becky required a lot of....attention, and Isabelle was simply not confident she had it in her. Jane caught wind of her daughter's discontent, quickly putting it to bed. "It is not up for discussion Iz, so you better get used to it. And I am really counting on you to do a good job with the kids. They are our neighbors, and I have been telling Jess how responsible you are." "She knows how responsible I am mom. I am over there with the kids all the time," Isabelle responded. 'Mom is acting whacky...' She thought to herself. "Yes, Yes, I know sweetie. But this time its at night, and alone. Just please be responsible, okay?" Jane pleaded, opting for killing with kindness. Isabelle didn't have the energy to get into this, as her mom was pulling up to Jane's at that exact moment. "Okay mom, not a problem. I'll see you at home later," before exiting the car and heading up to Jess's front door. Isabelle climbed the steps to the Williams' house, and reached out to ring the bell. Before she could, however, Jess opened the door, starting Isabelle so much that she literally hoped backward. "Oh! Sorry Iz! I hope I didn't scare you! Especially because we have a COOKIE MONSTER here tonight," Jess said, leaning back, clearly calling to Becky. Discernable giggles could be heard coming from upstairs. Isabelle couldn't help but smile. Jess welcomed her into the house, Isabelle following close behind. Isabelle considered taking her ballet slippers off, until Jess chimed in "No no, you can keep those on. Safer that way - you don't want to step on a toy barefoot. Isabelle smiled - ' I really like Jess.' Normally, Jess and John would let her in and quickly be off. But what took place next was odd. "So, I know you've been here before and that you're going to do GREAT," Jess said, emphasizing the last word, "but just a few things to go over." Jess continued, motioning Isabelle into the kitchen. Isabelle simply followed, wondering what could be new. "I taped all the emergency numbers to the fridge. If you can't get a hold of me, John's cousin doesn't live too far, and you can call him." Isabelle knew all of this already, so she wasn't quite sure why Jess was going over it. Isabelle had never had to call the cousin - she was always perfectly fine with the kids. "And I labelled the food for dinner for Eric and Becky. Becky can eat on her own, but of course you'll need to help Eric." Jess began motioning Isabelle upstairs, and she followed. Eric was a toddler - of course Isabelle knew she would need to feed him. "So you know where the kids bedrooms are," Jess went on, "but just so you know," Jess started whispering, as they headed to Becky's room "Bex is in pullups tonight. She had a poopy accident last week, and though it hasn't happened again, she's been waking up wet. So fresh pull-up before bed." Isabelle was about to question Jess, and remind her that, well, Isabelle had been the one to change Becky's poopy accident. 'Maybe Becky had had another one,' Isabelle thought, 'that's unfortunate...poor girl.' Isabelle interjected, before Jess opened the door "Its no problem Jess, I've got this. head out, and I'll take care of everything." Jess stopped, turned, and though tense at first, eased up. "Of course you do Iz. I'm sorry, we're just nervous. Eric is in his crib, but should be waking up any minute for dinner." jess handed Becky the baby monitor. "And Becky is in here." Isabelle understood. Parents were often like this the first time they left their kids with Isabelle, though Jess and John were usually pretty cool. At that moment, John came out of the bedroom from the opposite end of the hall, reminding Jess it was time to go. Jess nodded, and opened Becky's door, saying a quick goodbye, before heading down and leaving with John for the night. Isabelle was now with Becky alone in her room, and came directly up to her. Becky was laying on her belly, with a pair of sweatpants on and a pink shirt with a rainbow star on it. Beneath her pants, the faint outline of her pullup was discrete, but discernable. Becky seemed unbothered, coloring a unicorn in a coloring book she had. It seemed to Isabelle that Becky was wrapping her drawing up. "Oh Becky, what a wonderful job you're doing! Can I see?" Becky smiled and turned, placing down her blue crayon and holding her drawing up with her left hand, showing it to Isabelle. "Uh-huh! Look Iz! I almost colored everything between the lines." Isabelle laughed, seeing the sideways picture Becky had lifted. Isabelle sat down beside her, taking the picture and turning it the right way, showing it to Becky as she did. "It's amazing Becky! What a great job you did!" Becky smiled. Isabelle took the opportunity to carefully rest her hand on Becky's butt, to see if the pull-up she was wearing was wet or dry. After the prior weekend, Isabelle was not taking Becky at her word. 'Seems dry....I think?' Isabelle was unsure, but felt okay about her conclusion. "How about we go get your brother and have some dinner? Are you hungry?" Becky popped up on on her feet, threw her arms in the air, and screamed "YA!" Isabelle chuckled, took Becky by the hand, and pulled her along with her to Eric's room. Isabelle could hear him stirring on the monitor, and so knew it would be a good time to go get him. Isabelle entered Eric's room, and was immediately presented with a scent she knew well. "Oh boy Becky, smells like your brother needs a change. What do you think!?" Isabelle playfully asked Becky. "Yeth! I think he does Iz. He's strinky!" Isabelle smiled back. "Yes he is. Why don't you be my helper?" Isabelle could tell Becky was proud to be offered the chance. Isabelle went about changing Eric, giving Becky basic tasks to help with - mostly just handing her stuff. When the job was wrapped up, she lifted Eric on to her hip and asked Becky to lead the way to the kitchen. 'Oh boy Eric, you're getting heavier,' Isabelle noted. Isabelle spent the evening much as she always did. After feeding the kids - Eric was a particularly good helped, and Becky always ate her chicken fingers (Isabelle stole a few as well) - Isabelle turned her attention to entertaining the kids. Becky wanted to play and explore - playing some adventure game she had invented - and Eric needed constant attention and care. As the night wore on, Isabelle settled Eric into a bounder in front of the TV, and continued to play with Becky. Isabelle made sure to frequently check Becky's pullup to make sure she hadn't had an accident, and consistently reminded her to go to the bathroom, even taking her in once to make sure Becky was being honest, as well as listening for the echo of pee in the toilet bowl. As the night wore on, both children began to get tired. Becky was sleepy but resistant to the idea of bedtime when it was proposed, while Eric needed to be rocked to sleep. Isabelle turned to Becky, "Why don't we make a deal. It's almost your bedtime too, But if you help me put your brother to bed, I can read you a few stories before bed. How does that sound?" Becky loved the idea of that, and nodded rapidly. "Great!" Isabelle responded. Isabelle cradled Eric in her arms, carrying him upstairs and placing him down on the changing table in his room, Becky in tow. Eric was only wet - 'that's Jess's problem in the morning,' Isabelle smirked to herself - but nevertheless, Isabelle put Eric into a thick, nighttime diaper after cleaning him, and then into a warm sleeper. Isabelle picked him up, Eric already half asleep, and continued gently swaying him back and forth until he finally drifted off in her arms. Isabelle walked over to the crib, gently placing Eric down. Becky was about to make her way to the door when Isabelle stopped her. "We need to check you now Bex," Isabelle said, watching the dread creep on to her face. "Come here." Reluctantly, Becky walked over to Isabelle, staying just out of arms length. Isabelle anticipated what she was about to learn. Before she could confirm, though, Becky looked up at her and confessed. "Iz.... I hadda accident," Becky admitted, her eyes dropping to her feet, a sadness in her voice. Isabelle was happy Becky told her, and considering last week, this was progress. "It's okay sweetie. Why don't we get you cleaned up and changed too though?" Isabelle proposed. Becky simply nodded, giving her hand to Isabelle, and allowing herself to be lifted up on to the changing table. Isabelle considered, for a moment, putting Becky into a diaper. Those were Jess's rules, after all, if Becky had an accident. 'Becky had a bad accident last week, and even though I reminded her - and she did - pee, she still wet her pullup.' Isabelle though, considering her choice. Isabelle knew Becky wouldn't like it, and might throw a tantrum. 'And she's already so tired. I don't want to rile her up. Plus Jess seemed to say it was fine putting her in pullups. Isabelle decided to just stick with the pullups. Quickly as she could, she helped take Becky's pants off, and then her wet pullup - it was soaked more than she expected, prompting Isabelle to at least reconsider diapers for a minute. Still, Isabelle went about cleaning the little girl up, before helping her off the table, and having her step into a fresh pullup. "Now let's go pick a story and get some jammies on you," Isabelle ended with a smile, receiving one back from her charge. Becky quickly changed into a set of blue pajamas, picked out a book, and hoped into bed. Isabelle tucked her in, read her a story.....and then read her one more story - 'Becky deserved it, after all,' before turning off the bedroom light. Isabelle could feel Becky dozing off - envious of the little girl, as Isabelle sung Becky a soft lullaby until she too drifted off to sleep. Quietly, and softly, Isabelle lifted herself up, took the baby monitor, and left the room, creaking the door softly shut behind her. Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief, the bulk of her work done, and started descending the stairs. It was only when Isabelle reached the main floor that she truly appreciated how exhausted she was. Between not sleeping the night prior, dancing all day, and then sitting the kids, Isabelle was wiped. She made her way into the kitchen, polishing off the remaining chicken fingers, before grabbing a soda and heading to the basement. 'Time to relax, and watch some TV.' Isabelle made her way down the stairs, and collapsed onto the basement couch, grabbing the remote from a leather coffee table in front of her. Isabelle settled into the couch, popped her soda, and turned the TV on, flipping through channels. Much to her surprise, and desire, she in fact found that the Rover-Roo marathon was still on, opting immediately for that rather than continuing her search. Isabelle laid there, watching her cartoons, and guzzling her soda, without a thought in her mind. She lifted her feed up, ballet slippers and all, onto the coffee table, getting more and more comfortable. 'This is the longest I have ever worn these,' Isabelle noted to herself, an irrelevant but fun fact, she concluded. Isabelle was too tired to process, to think, to work. All she wanted now, was to rest. And rest she did. As she finished her soda, the can tumbling to her side, Isabelle, without trying too, inadvertently dozed off, into a deep, unyielding, sleep. And that was the last thing she remembered. Until she woke up. Until she heard Jess announcing they were home. Until the panic set in. Panic. Because Isabelle. A Higgins senior. Woke up. To peeing. In her pants.

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 14 "So what should we eat tonight?" Dani was always focused on the food. It was her way. And Isabelle loved that about her friend. Isabelle smiled at her friend, thinking of a response the question. Dani was a tremendous friend, but an even bigger goofball. Lola laughed, her mind likely processing the same thoughts as Isabelle's, before suggesting that they should order in Greek food, or something like that. Isabelle had no objections. Isabelle was grateful, in moments like this, for Dani. The truth was, Isabelle had been quite reserved since her mom sputtered up the long driveway to Dani's house, and Isabelle had rung the bell at the gate to let her friend know she had arrived. Once admitted, Isabelle forwent the offer of a lift from her mom to the house, opting instead to trek up to the steps to Dani's Tudor style, well, mansion. Isabelle had wanted some time alone. Some quiet. Between everyone treating her younger than she was, and the bladder events of the previous day, Isabelle had not slept well, and her mind was not at ease. After waiting in the bathroom for an opening the prior afternoon, Isabelle had darted up the stairs with her wet clothes, managing to avoid her mom's gaze. She had changed, and found an excuse to do laundry under the auspice of wanting to have her favorite pajamas clean for the sleepover. Isabelle had tugged at the strap to her bag, weighing heavily on her shoulder, as she journeyed up the inclined driveway toward the front door of the house. She hoped her excuse hadn't raised any eyebrows from her mom. It was certainly odd behavior. While Isabelle had favorite pajamas, she wasn't picky about what she wore normally. Though, Isabelle did really like them - they were her most comfortable. In an effort to avoid a third bladder problem, Isabelle had set an alarm the prior night on her phone, to ensure she didn't oversleep, and need to rush to the bathroom. When she woke up to the alarm at 4, she dragged herself to the bathroom - just in case of course - despite feeling no need to pee. After sitting on the toilet, without success, Isabelle pulled her panties back up, and flopped her body back into bed. not before setting another alarm at 6 and repeating the same process, again without success. After tossing and turning for an hour or more, Isabelle got out of bed at 7:20, and went back to the bathroom, managing to pee that time. She chalked the prior day's incidents up to a series of unfortunate events, though the trauma of actually letting pee out into her panties left an emotional wound that wouldn't leave her so quickly. She was feeling disappointed in herself as well, having left such a mess in the kitchen the day prior. 'Mom was actually really mad. I don't remember letting her down like that in....a long time.' She was perplexed that she had just left all that food out on the counter. The leftovers could have gone bad if her mom hadn't caught her silly mistake. Isabelle was also disappointed that she had essentially wasted the last two days away. She had committed herself to investigating some possible explanations as to why her mom, friends, and well...just about everyone it seemed, were treating her younger than she was. She had intended to formulate a plan of attack to investigate this...'conundrum! That's the word' but hadn't yet done so. All in all, it had not been the best two days. 'It'll be better tonight,' she told herself, though she wasn't that confident. Just about the only thing Isabelle had convinced herself of was that she could not confront anyone about what was going on. 'With the age thing,' Isabelle clarified. 'Nothing else is going on.' At least she told herself as much. Nevertheless, if her friends were in on the prank, they wouldn't confess unless Isabelle had some evidence. And if it was something else, well, they might think she was nuts! No, it was better to learn more first, and then present her case. 'It's like Rover-Roo always says, "All conundrums leave clues, and I'll discover them.' Isabelle had managed to climb to the house, and was welcomed by Dani and Lola as she came in to the entry room, and dropped her bag. "You can leave that there," Dani mentioned, "Estelle will take it up to your room.' Isabelle always felt a little awkward when Dani hosted the sleepover, as her family had help around the house. Isabelle was plenty capable of carrying her own bag, but she did as Dani said, and placed it down. 'It was feeling a tad heavy,' Isabelle thought, grateful to get it off her shoulder. Despite being happy to be with her friends, Isabelle had been quiet for most of the night leading up to the dinner conversation. She listened silently as Dani and Lola spoke about the placements that would be announced on Monday for the season's shows, spoke about upcoming classes they would have together, and chatted about different students, and of course, boys. If they noticed that Isabelle had not been contributing, they didn't say anything. Isabelle's mind was still elsewhere, coping with her stressful week. Isabelle's trance was broken when Lola followed up with her. "Iz, does that work?" Isabelle shook herself out of her haze, and cluelessly looked at her friend. Lola must have picked up on it. "Earth to Iz - welcome back! We're getting Greek. Are you okay with the chicken gyro? It comes with some fries and a little salad I think." 'That does sound good,' Isabelle thought, noticing she was indeed hungry. "That sounds great," Isabelle responded. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, I'll be back." Abruptly, Isabelle stood up and headed toward the nearest bathroom, which was actually quite far, relatively speaking, from the living room where the girls had been hanging out. 'I should just go in case,' Isabelle concluded, not wanted to risk even coming close to the problems of yesterday at Dani's house. Isabelle briskly made her way across the foyer, noting that her bag was no longer in the entryway. She slipped through the empty kitchen, past the stairs to the wine cellar, and around a corner before coming face to face with one of the many guest bedrooms. Isabelle made one more turn to her right, and into the half-bathroom next to that guestroom. Isabelle shut the door behind her, and sat down on the toilet. She didn't need to pee, but there would be no harm in sitting there. As she did, she distracted herself with the ocean blue tile that covered the walls, tracing a line with her mind through the perfectly smooth grout between the tiles. 'It's like going through one of those drawing mazes," she thought, giggling to herself. Isabelle's mind continued to get lost, tracing her way across the bathroom, from one end, up and around the sink - 'don't wanna get trapped!' - and back around to the toilet seat where she was sitting. At that moment, Isabelle felt a spurt of pee come to her 'that was unexpected' before she wiped up, and washed her hands and headed to return to her friends. When she got back, Isabelle was feeling a little more confident with herself. The risk of peeing now out the door, Isabelle was able to finally relax with her friends, laugh at their silliness, and generally engage with them better than she had before. "So what do you think we should do tonight?" Isabelle asked the group, open to suggestions. The usual ideas were thrown out - "movie night," "baking fancy desserts," "late night swim in the pool and hot tub." Whatever it was going to be, Isabelle was excited. Before they could settle on anything, the girls' attentions were re-directed to a bell ringing, notifying them that their food had arrived. Dani hopped up off the couch, and went to the intercom at the front door to let the driver in the gate, directing him to leave the food at the front door. Dani had already paid online, including the tip, and her family was pretty serious about not opening the door for delivery people. After Dani spied that the gate had closed behind the delivery person, she opened the door and retrieved the parcel of food left behind. Lola and Isabelle followed Dani as she carried the food into the kitchen, and set about unpacking the bag on the big center island. Dani handed them each their food as they assumed their regular places around the island, Isabelle hopping up and sitting with her legs crossed underneath her on a rectangular, black hardwood stool. Isabelle opened up the plastic takeout container housing her food. "This looks fantastic Dani! Where is it from?" Isabelle asked her friend, as she picked up a french fry and began munching on it. "Its from a new Greek place, not too far from here. My family tried it on Tuesday, and everything was great!" The girls each dug into their food, and slowly but surely, the conversation was replaced by the sounds of chewing. Isabelle herself was loving her chicken gyro. Embarrassingly, the very first bite Isabelle had resulted in a glob of tzatziki being pushed around her mouth on her face, though it didn't stop her from eating. As she pulled back the gyro, however, she couldn't help but notice as Lola had a little snicker at the mess on her face. 'I'll get it later,' Isabelle concluded, as she continued to eat her gyro, fries, and pick at the salad. 'Dani was right - this is fantastic.' Having finished their meals, Dani went about collecting everyone's empty takeout containers. "Looks like you got more on you than in you," Dani remarked, as she collected Isabelle's. Lola laughed, and Isabelle herself couldn't help but smile. By the time she was done, the tzatziki was not only on her face, but all over her hands too. Isabelle scanned her friends hoping for the same result, but to no avail; it appeared they were far cleaner eaters than she. "Yah haha." Isabelle responded. "That was a little messy, I'll go wash up." Isabelle headed to the sink, grabbed a single paper towel from a roll nearby, and started wiping her face off. Isabelle then turned to the sink, intending to turn it on, but not seeing how. There was no lever, and no indication on how to start it. 'What on earth am I supposed to do with this?' she thought. "Dani, how does this thingy turn on?" Isabelle asked. Before Dani could answer, Lola chimed in. "Just wave your hands underneath it. It'll automatically turn on." 'That's neat,' Isabelle thought, before doing as instructed. And, as Lola stated, the water began running as soon as her hands were under the faucet. "Sorry Iz" Dani piped in, "we got the new sink this week and its just not obvious." Dani added. Isabelle didn't case. "Yah, but its way cool" Isabelle responded. Isabelle took the time to wash every inch of her hands, not wanting to make s mess on any of Dani's family's nice furniture. As she did so, Isabelle's mind went back to the milk glass she had let tumble over on her own family's couch. 'That would be a much bigger issue here.' Having sufficiently cleaned herself up, Isabelle followed in tow as the girls made their way up the stairs and toward Dani's room. The girls had settled on having a late night pool session, followed by a movie night in the theater room downstairs. Isabelle thought it was a great plan, seeing as how the summer was nearly over, and there would be fewer swimming days left. The evening was still warm enough that the pool would be nice. There was only one issue. "Dani - I forgot to bring a bathing suit!" It was silly, really. Isabelle knew Dani had a pool, and the girls often swam in it. Normally, she would always pack a bathing suit, but tonight, for whatever reason, she had forgotten. Isabelle was also confronted with another realization - she needed to poop. Whenever she needed to, whether at Dani's or Lola's, she had a specific bathroom she liked to use. Here, it was normally the one down near the theater, as it felt the furthest away from the bedrooms upstairs. Isabelle was not going to hesitate tonight, however, considering everything that happened yesterday... "Not a problem. I'll, errr, find you one of mine, or maybe one of my old ones, that fits you." Dani said, skeptically. In truth, Dani thought, Isabelle could probably fit into a pair of Dani's swim bottoms, but the top would be an issue. And even if Lola had a spare, no one was going to fit into her tops. "Thanks Dani!" Isabelle said, trying to think of an excuse to leave the group as they went to change upstairs. They had just been downstairs, and it would be odd for Isabelle to turn around and go back down without explaining herself. Isabelle was struggling to come up with anything reasonable, that wouldn't arise suspicion. "uh.....I uh....my hands are still a little greasy. I'm going to head back down to wash them." It was the best she could come up with. Dani and Lola both turned on the staircase to see Isabelle having turned around and begin her descent. Isabelle couldn't see their reactions, but both had funny looks on their face 'Doesn't she know how to wash her hands?' Lola thought to herself. 'Whatever,' Dani, thought. 'Better be thorough then mess up some furniture,' she thought before calling back "sounds good. I'll see what I can find for you." Isabelle continued back down toward the kitchen in order to substantiate her fib. As she did, she could just barely overhear Dani and Lola as they continued to round the spiral staircase, up to Dani's bedroom, and conversed. "I doubt....anything....may have....in her clothes," Lola started. "Ya....see....much smaller...even me. I think....old....could fit....an idea" 'Were they suggesting that Isabelle couldn't fit into Dani's bathing suits? It couldn't be, as they had always been basically the same size.' Isabelle made her way quietly into the kitchen, even going so far as to turn the sink on in case her friends were listening. 'Not that they would be?' Isabelle thought, as she began doubting her own excuse. Nevertheless, Isabelle was confident that she could use Dani's bathing suits. More immediate concerns occupied her mind. Once she was sure that the girls had closed Dani's bedroom door behind them, Isabelle waved her hand under the sink rapidly to turn it off, and tiptoed as quietly as possible down the spiral staircase the bathroom, careful to step on the thig Persian carpet on each step so as to not make a sound. Once she reached the bottom, Isabelle deftly navigated her way down the main hallway, past the theater room, storage rooms, and the wine cellar, turning left down another corridor which headed toward the front of the house, turning once more to her right into a small half-bathroom that was secluded downstairs. Dani's basement had three bathrooms - two halves, and one full - and over the years, Isabelle had deduced this one to be the least popular. And so it became her favorite. Quickly as she could, Isabelle lifted the lid, sat down, and began to push. This was a delicate operation, and speed was of the essence. How long could she plausibly be washing her hands for? And so, as quickly and unladylike as she could, Isabelle pushed, grunted -"errrrmmmph" - and successfully made her deposit - 'Ew, I sound like mom' - into the toilet, on log after the next. The process was not comfortable, and was a little noisy, but the relief was immediate. In fact, Isabelle hadn't realized how badly she needed to go. No matter. It was done now. Isabelle wiped quickly, before closing the lid and flushing the toilet, turning to the sink as she did to wash her hands. Isabelle pumped the peppermint scented foamy soap into her hands, and rubbed them together under the warm water of a sink she actually knew how to operate, while also coming up with a fallback should she be confronted by her friends. Task completed, Isabelle retraced her steps as quickly as she could, back down the hallway, past the wine cellar, past the storage, past the theater the girls would get into later, and up the stairs. Isabelle placed each tip toe in seemingly the same compressed spot on the carpet covering the stairs she had on her way down, peaking up the center of the spiral in case her friends might be descending. Isabelle's heart was beating rapidly, the rush from her deception pumping her blood. Isabelle rounded the corner on to the main floor, feeling safe now that she was back to the floor she claimed she would be on. Isabelle then made a point of ascending the staircase to Dani's room with a little more noise. Isabelle wasn't sure why, but she felt if she was noisy on the staircase, her friends would assume that if she had gone downstairs, she would have been noisy too, and because there was no noise, Isabelle must not have gone downstairs. 'The logic,' Isabelle thought, 'is flawless.' Isabelle made her way to the top of the stairs, eyes focused on the golden chandelier that hung down the spiral staircase. Isabelle had always loved the chandelier. It was spectacular, with beautifully carved crystals hanging below each bulb, which seemingly floated in the air. Isabelle always thought it was so inviting, and she had always wanted to reach out and touch one of the crystals, but of course would not have ever done so. At the top, Isabelle turned to her left and headed down the hallway. She passed by Dani's brother's room, and then one guest room that was across from his. Isabelle then passed the large bathroom that the two siblings shared, and went straight into Dani's room, pushing the door open. Dani's room had always been spectacular. The design of the Murphy's house was such that there were almost two master bedrooms - one on each wing of the house. Dani's room had previously been Mr. Murphy's office, until he had sold his business. Dani's bedroom had originally been the guest room opposite Alex's bedroom, but as she got older, and as her father used the office less, her parents agreed she could turn it into a bedroom, letting them add an additional guest bedroom on that wing of the house. Alex never griped about it apparently, content in his smaller - yet still larger than Isabelle's - bedroom. As she turned the glass doorknob, and pushed the door open, Isabelle was confronted with the spectacular design of her room. She stepped onto the beautiful hardwood floors as she took in the room; the wide, spacious room stretched from one end of the house to the other; in front of her was Dani's queen size bed, flawlessly made on a four poster bedframe, with transparent drapes tied across that when hanging loose, created a magical look to the bed. The bed had few, but perfectly matching pillows, with one accent pillow - Dani refused more - that complimented the bed and eggshell white comforter perfectly. The bed was flanked on either end with stunning, antique nightstands. To the right of the bed, Dani and Lola stood in front of a full length mirror propped up against the wall, checking to see how their bathing suits fit and complimenting each other. Isabelle's gaze froze for a moment on her friends, and she smiled; 'they are so beautiful, inside and out!' she thought. Lola's frame and bust were fully accented in the textured white bikini she brought, and her long, think, dark wavy hair fell against it beautifully. Dani had put on a patterned aqua colored bikini, which she looked stunning in as well. 'Did her boobs get bigger?' Isabelle wondered to herself. Shaking her gaze way from her friends, Isabelle's eyes traced the wall to her right, moving from the gas, red brick fireplace that abutted the front of the house, toward the near wall to her right which had a door to Dani's walk-in closet. Dani was really into clothes and fashion, and despite the closet being the size of a normal person's room, one could barely stand in there without feeling like an avalanche was going to come down on them. That said, Dani could navigate the closet as though she was Jacques Cousteau. Turning her head to the left now, Isabelle's eyes went to the near wall, which had a beautiful, new desk Dani had gotten just last year. Isabelle remembered being there when the movers had hauled it up the stairs, all six of them sweating profusely as they navigated the curves and halls as to not damage the house. An avid reader like Isabelle, the left side of the room had built in bookshelves, from floor to ceiling, and even one of those rolling ladders so that Dani could access the higher shelves that extended up the twelve foot ceiling. Isabelle had not confessed her love of, well, 'young adult' books with Dani, though they would spend time discussing other novels they enjoyed, Lola often falling asleep as they droned on. Finally, the far corner of the room contained a lamp and beautifully ornate arm chair, that Dani would spend hours in reading, napping, or scoffing down pizza or popcorn while she watched a movie on her laptop. "Iz! What took you so long?" Lola's question brought Isabelle back to reality, and she turned to her friends, hoping she was not blushing too badly. Isabelle had been prepared for the question, though she hoped her excuse would be well taken "Oh, well the soap in the kitchen didn't seem to be helping, so I went and tried another bathroom." Dani looked at her friend skeptically. 'The soap in the kitchen was used to clean greasy dishes? How could it not work?' Dani shrugged it off. "Oh alright. Well, I tried finding some things for you, but I am not sure they are going to fit. This bathing suit is the best I could find that might fit you, and its new" Dani said, handing Isabelle a plain set of textured black bottoms and tops ('Prada', Isabelle noted). "....but just in case, I also found some of my old one-pieces that is probably more your size. I never cleared them out of my bathing suit section, since I never replaced them with new ones," Dani said, handing Isabelle a pastel-pink one piece, with a ruffled collar. Once her closet his capacity, Dani had a strict 'one piece in, one piece out rule.' That said, there was no such thing as 'no piece in, one piece out. "Why get rid of anything if I don't need to?" Dani would always say. 'More my size?' Isabelle thought, accepting the second bathing suit from her friend. But before she could say anything, Dani continued. "We'll meet you in the pool. Just wear whatever you prefer and meet us there," she finished before she and Lola flowed out of the room, Lola stopping at the door to turn back and blow Isabelle a kiss. Alone in Dani's room now, Isabelle was still processing the events that took place. Isabelle threw the one-piece suit on the bed, and went toward the mirror in the right corner of the room. She started stripping her pants and underwear off, kicking them to the side, and taking the bikini bottoms in her hand. They were stunning bottoms - a gold buckle on one side of the front, with a thicker side slowly thinking into strings on the side that she could tie at her hip. 'Dani really didn't think these would fit me. Which is so odd. We've been sharing clothes for years,' Isabelle questioned, stepping her right leg through the swimming bottom leg hole. 'This is a good place for me start,' Isabelle thought, thinking about her investigation. 'I'll have to explore this some more....they're not only pretending I am younger, but also smaller.' Isabelle was content to have a direction to go on. 'The cluefinders always say, it starts with clue number 1!' Pleased to finally have the semblance of a plan, Isabelle pulled the bottoms up, and started to tie them off on her left side. As she pulled the strings, however, she noticed the fit was not right. The bottoms were.....admittedly,......slightly too large. No matter how she tried to tie them off, something was wrong; they either hung way too loose when tied off "correctly," or, if she tied them to fit her, the fit was just all wrong. Isabelle began to dread what she might have to do. 'No. No not yet,' Isabelle thought. 'I'll just tie them somewhere between, and maybe they wont notice.' Pleased enough with her concession, Isabelle took her top off, and removed her shirt and bra, grabbing the bathing suit top. Isabelle slipped each arm through, and reach around to hook the top together. ... ... In truth, Isabelle didn't need to hook it to notice the problem right away; the top was far, far too large. While she could manage with the bottoms (though, those were not great), this top would NEVER fit. 'I mean, what is going on? How big did Dani's boobs get this summer?' Isabelle asked herself.' Isabelle was in shock. 'Dani did say it was new...maybe she got the wrong size? Or maybe her boobs just did get bigger...I had noticed them before," Isabelle thought, reflecting back to moments ago when her friends were in the room with her. Isabelle stood in front of the mirror, denying her present situation as best she could. 'There was no way this bathing suit was going to work.....and I really do want to swim with the girls.....' Isabelle's head slowly started turning over her right shoulder, back toward the bed, eyes fixed on the one-piece bathing suit. She had hoped the bikini would fit desperately, but now, she was without options. Slowly but surely, Isabelle dropped her head, and accepted her fate. Isabelle slipped her arms out of her top, daintily holding on to the shoulder strap, almost unwilling to let go. Before she knew it, Isabelle's grip on the top, and her resolve against the one piece, ceased to exist simultaneously, the top tumbling to the floor. Resigned to her fate, Isabelle undid the tie at her waist, letting the bottoms fall down her waist, nothing remaining to hold them in place. Before turning around, Isabelle lifted her head, staring into the mirror. She stood before it completely naked, and embraced the rare opportunity of staring at herself completely naked. Her eyes were drawn to, well, her welled up eyes immediately, a sadness residing in them about what had occurred. Once she was able to deviate her gaze, however, she noticed much more. The once-fading freckles on her face had seemingly made a come back, tricking down the sides of her nose and across her cheeks. It was subtle, and not quite prominent as they were in the childhood photos that adorned her house, but it was noticeable. Her button nose seemed more prominent, almost as if it was turned up a little more on the end, with a little more flush added just at it's peak. Her face, which had narrowed and become sharper over the last few years, had seemingly regressed into a fuller shape. It was by no means fat, but it had lost its more recent sharpness. 'Maybe I just gained a little weight,' Isabelle thought, not concerned in the slightest considering she would be dancing 5 days a week starting Monday. Isabelle fixed her hair, which was flailed to the side, noticing for the first time that it felt, looked, and well was, longer than she normally kept it. 'I do miss having longer hair,' Isabelle thought, at that moment, a smile emerging across her face, causing dimples to emerge. 'It's cute right now.' Isabelle was glad to feel any confidence with her appearance, considering all of these subtle changes she had not previously noticed. Isabelle's eyes traced down from her face, to her body. Disappointed that the top hadn't fit her, her eyes immediately went to her breasts. Admittedly, though very perky, they did appear smaller than normal. 'No, not smaller," Isabelle concluded, turning and examining them in the mirror, "just...less full." It was an odd deduction, and had she not been so focused on them, she wouldn't have even noticed. Isabelle diverted her eyes further down her body, noting that her vase shaped body had lost some of its contours, but not concerning herself too much with it. Her legs looked...the same at first - 'Maybe less...defined? muscular? I'm not sure,' before making her way to her feet, which oddly enough, seemed smaller. Isabelle laughed the last one off - 'that obviously isn't the case, all my shoes fit perfectly!' she thought. Content - if not confused - to move to another subject, Isabelle turned away from the mirror, and made her way to the bed. Taking a deep breath, Isabelle took the one-piece bathing suit, grasping it with each hand, rolling it down, and stepping each leg through so it could come on to her body. Feet now planted firmly on the ground, Isabelle pulled the bathing suit up her figure, pulling each strap over her shoulder. 'Of course it fits perfectly. Of. Course.' Isabelle turned back toward the mirror to assess the damage. The bathing suit was of exceptional quality, if not juvenile. And for some reason, the bathing suit made Isabelle feel as though all of her changing features were exaggerated. "I practically look like a tween in this," she thought, some sadness returning. 'But.....' Isabelle thought, starting to smile again, '.....the ruffles along the neck are really cute actually.' Isabelle's smile grew at the thought. 'And more importantly, my friends would never judge me.' Content - and now confident enough - Isabelle skipped out of the room and made her way out to the pool, through the sliding glass door in the kitchen. As she shut it behind her, Lola and Dani called to her. "Get in here you slow poke!" Lola called, "I need reinforcements." Lola was shielding herself from a cascade of splashing from Dani. "Never! Join the dark side Iz!" Dani screamed, continuing her relentless splashing attack. Isabelle just laughed. Her investigation would need to be postponed a bit - she had a friend to defend! The girl's pool session continued much as Isabelle would have expected; They splashed, they declared a cease fire; they swam; they playfully bounced a beach ball to one another, and then laid on pool mats, letting the hour or so of fun pass by in what felt like minutes. Having "pooled" enough, Dani announced it was time for the hot tub, and all three girls made their way to the pool stairs, and walked over the tub which sat above the pool, with a miniature waterfall cascading from it, to the pool. Isabelle loved the hot tub - it was one of her favorite things to do at Dani's. As she descended the stairs into the tub, the warmth of the water sent chills up her legs, and to the crown of her head. She eased her way in, before pushing herself forward on to her stomach, gliding to the far end of the hot tub, and twisting around to land smoothly with her butt on the built in bench, with the waterfall to her right. Isabelle always like to play a game to see if she could do the maneuver with one muscle motion, almost succeeding tonight but failing to rotate enough. Her friends came in after her, taking spots in a far more, well, conventional manner. "So Iz.....what are you going to do when you see Aaaaaaaaaavery on Monday?" Dani asked. The question itself was enough to turn her beat red. Lola had the audacity to add in a nice "ooooooohh" to boot. Dani didn't relent right away, "Going to ask him to show you some pictures of him from the beach?" This time, Isabelle didn't just get red, she snorted into a laugh, causing all the other two to join in laughing both with, and at her. Isabelle knew she would have to answer, but also, thought this would be a chance to learn what her friends thought of her, and/or how far they were willing to take this silly prank. "I don't know. I'm a bit nervous to be honest," Isabelle admitted, calculating her next words carefully. "I've never really had a crush on an...older boy before." Isabelle made sure to emphasize the word older, and paid close attention to her friends' reactions. "That's normal," Lola said. "To be honest, all you can do is just be yourself. You don't want to pretend you like things you don't just because you think he is more mature, because then you wont really be being honest with yourself. Just show him the real you - you're the best!" Lola added, with a smile. Isabelle felt butterflies in her stomach, and smiled back, thinking to herself 'Gosh I love Lola...that was sweet. But....not revealing enough." Dani joined in "Ya, and just make sure you never feel like he is pressuring you or anything. Whether its a guy in the same year, or older or younger, or whatever, just make sure you're comfortable." Isabelle nodded back. She and her friends had previously had such discussions. Still, neither of her friends was giving her enough information. She would need to press on. "I think I am going to try and find him and lunch. Maybe we can all show up together a little late and sit at whatever table he's at together, sort of force myself into the situation where we can talk. What do you think?" Lola nodded. "That sounds like a great idea Iz." Dani chimed in "That does sound smart. But I won't be able to join you. There was a problem with my schedule for next year, and I have an appointment to sort it out at lunch," she added disappointingly. Then a big smirk came across her face, "You'll just have to let me know how it goes!" Lola changed the topic. "How was your schedule Isabelle? Any interesting classes?" Isabelle saw an opening here, though at that moment, realized she had never even bothered to check it. Maybe that could work in her favor. "Oh! I actually forgot to look at it. What interesting classes might be on there?" "You didn't look at your schedule? I remember how excited you were last year to get your first one. Can't believe you didn't tear it open!" Lola said, laughing. Isabelle focused on her words carefully. 'First one....there it is, well, at least its a suggestion.' But before she could explore it further, a pang it her. 'Oh god. Why now!' Isabelle immediately recognized it. ('of course I did! I am an adult!') It was, of course, her bladder letting her know she needed to go. And now. Dani, seemingly unaware of her friend's newly noticed, urgent need, offered Isabelle the confirmation she needed, however. "Well, you're going to be taking Algebra 2, which is the worst," Dani said, with absolute dread, "and some other classes that I can't remember. You're better off stealing my notes rather than Lola's though, since I kicked her butt in those classes," Dani said sarcastically, before dutifully receiving a splash from Lola, with an added retort, "Did not." 'This was it. Confirmation. They think I am a sophomore. Time to explore this some -" Another pang, letting her know her bladder needed release. Isabelle pondered for a minute, "......I AM in a hot tub....no one would notice...and then I could figure out some more from them maybe....I could just...you know....let it....." .... ..... Isabelle snapped herself out of it. 'What the hell are you thinking, Iz? You aren't a kid. You can't pee in a hot tub!' Isabelle concluded, before standing up, the water dripping off from her one piece suit. "I'm heading in," Isabelle said, not denying why, "I need to pee!" Dani moved aside, letting her friend by, "Well by all means, don't do that in here." Isabelle made her way out of the hot tub, and grabbed one of the towels that lay on the nearby patio table. Drying herself as rapidly as she could, Isabelle worked her way up and down each foot, her legs, her body, and wrapped herself up with the towel. As she started to head in, she heard Dani behind her talking to Lola "......so cute in it...." but paid it no attention. Isabelle's need to pee was becoming more desperate, and she darted inside, making her way to the bathroom off of the kitchen that she had used to pee in earlier that evening. Closing the door behind her, Isabelle started to peel the wet one-piece bathing suit of of her, letting if plop to the ground, before sitting on the toilet, and releasing her pee. 'Well, I wish I could have asked them more about everything, but at least I learned something tonight,' Isabelle thought, grabbing toilet paper to wipe. 'They appear genuinely convinced I am a sophomore.' Isabelle was proud of her deduction, and it felt good to get some confirmation about her friends' thoughts. She just wasn't sure what that comfort meant, and what it meant might come to be.

Thank you for your patience with me and this story. Some rather serious family matters came up - but everything will be okay. I hope you enjoy. The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 13 Isabelle went to sleep that night with her stomach full, and her mind even fuller. After speaking with her mom, Isabelle had elected to keep whatever was happening to herself. In truth, her mom had given her a lot to think about, and Isabelle wanted to reflect on how to move forward before saying anything to anyone. Isabelle's plan, however, was stymied by her exhaustion. Between the showcase, her fight with her mom, and the remarkably heavy dinner, the moment Isabelle returned to her room, intending to lay down for only minutes, she fell into a deep, restful sleep. Isabelle had not, in fact, anticipated how tired she was. Her sleep was deep, dreamless, undisturbed, and in a manner, pitiful. Her body and mind were wiped, and the heavy sleep came on without notice. In the morning, however, Isabelle woke with a start. She turned and saw that her clock said it was 6:30 AM - 'Nearly 10 hours of sleep' she concluded. Perhaps it was the contrast between the dead sleep and being wide awake that shocked her. Perhaps it was that she was starting to feel more herself this morning. Isabelle shook off the remnants of her slumber, her head feeling much better today. 'Today will be better' she thought. It was at that moment that Isabelle came to a realization. It had neither been the contrast of sleep or the fact that she was feeling better that woke her. No, it was her bladder, desperate to relieve itself. Isabelle felt a sharp pain in her abdomen, not appreciating how badly she needed to go. 'Oh god." Isabelle popped out of the bed, and started toward the bathroom. The sudden movement jolted her bladder more, and embarrassingly enough, before she opened the door to the bathroom, a few droplets of her pee escaped into her pajamas. "oh god...oh god...oh god' Isabelle was panicking. "how is this..' Isabelle strained to keep herself from peeing anymore, as she made her way into the bathroom, and was now pulling her pajama shorts off. '...happening.' Isabelle managed to rip her shorts down her legs, and sit on the toilet before any more pee escaped her, instead landing squarely in the toilet. Isabelle was out of breath, and worked at just catching it while she sat peeing for a lengthy time. 'Gross,' she thought, looking down at the inside of her pajama shorts and seeing the more-than-a-few wet spots that escaped in their urgency. She slipped the shorts off and kicked them to the side. Isabelle wiped and flushed, and having calmed down, stood up to brush her teeth and wash her face. As she put her toothbrush into her mouth, Isabelle looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still puffy from crying last night, and though she slept a long time, her eyes did not look well rested. Her clean, but messy blond hair was fallen around her face, and had a slight curl to it this morning. She noticed it was falling below her shoulder, 'a little long' Isabelle noted, 'but I actually like it." there would be no need to cut it for a little while longer. Isabelle rinsed her mouth, and then started washing her face, hoping the cool water would sooth her puffy cheeks. Isabelle continued looking at herself in the mirror, noticing the unusually prominent freckles on her cheeks, and notably rounder shape to her face. 'Must be a product of crying all night,' she concluded, and proceeded to wash her face, letting the cool water soothe her inflamed cheeks. It did in fact feel better. Isabelle made her way back to her room, grabbing some simple panties and sweatpants from her dresser. Isabelle then made her way down the stairs, and opened the front door, grabbing the newspaper. It felt like a cooler fall day than the warm days of summer, and Isabelle was beginning to accept that the long warm days would soon be replaced by darker nights and cooler skies. Isabelle closed the door behind her, taking the paper with her to the kitchen. Isabelle went about her morning as usual. She started the coffee machine, and made a note on a nearby pad that the ground coffee was almost out. Her mom would need to get some more next time she went to the store. Isabelle then went into the pantry, looking for something to eat this morning. To her astonishment, she found a box of "Leprechaun Runes," her once upon a time favorite breakfast. "Not sure what compelled mom to buy these, but not complaining,' Isabelle thought, as she opened the box and poured the cereal into a bowl with some milk. After enough coffee was brewed, Isabelle went to grab a mug from the cupboard. She opened it up, and was disappointed to find that there were no mugs on the lower shelf. Isabelle instead turned her attention to the non-matching mugs on the top shelf. 'The shelf seems outrageously high,' Isabelle thougt to herself. Had her mom adjusted the height of the shelves to make room for other things? Confirming her expectations, Isabelle reached, but did not even come close to being able to reach a mug. In fact, she questioned whether she could reach the top plate on the shelf below it all together. 'Good thing the bowls were on the lower shelf,' she snickered, unconcerned about her inability to reach the mugs. Isabelle turned and went to the fridge, sliding the folded step stool resting between the fridge and the wall, and pulled it out. Isabelle unfolded it below the shelf, climbed up one step.....'maybe two,' Isabelle deflatingly admitted, before stepping up on the second step, reaching... ...and just grabbing the first mug, a bright yellow mug with a smiling Tweety Bird on it. Isabelle descended the steps, careful not to fall, and folded the stepladder back up, returning it to its spot, before completing what turned out to be a rather lengthy morning ordeal just to get coffee. Her cereal sufficiently soaked, and her coffee poured into her smiling bird mug, Isabelle sat down at the counter to enjoy her breakfast. As she was eating, Isabelle was glancing at the newspaper she had retrieved, considering working through the Sudoku. 'Not in the mood she decided.' Her mind was focused on other things, namely, what she was going to do about, well, everything. Isabelle pondered her dilemma as she sorted her marshmallow cereal into groupings, so that each colored and shaped marshmallow were together. That was, of course, the only appropriate way to eat Leprechaun Runes. As she did, Isabelle contemplated the possibilities of what could be happening to her. It was clear that everyone was treating her like she was younger than she really was. That much she had sorted out. But why? The most likely scenario, she concluded, was that her mom, Dani, and Lola were playing some weird game or joke on her. It wouldn't have been tremendously difficult to get Tori to play along - Dani and Lola had been alone with her. But Smith wasn't one for games, and even if her mom and friends had suggested she participate, Smith would never have done so. Why would she? So while this was the most likely scenario, it was also......well just not possible. There were other options, of course. Isabelle was scooping the last of the shooting star runes into her mouth while she considered what they might be. 'I could be dead,' she thought. 'And this is some weird afterlife where I live an eternity two years younger than I am?' Isabelle didn't feel particularly sold on this theory, though she was far calmer about speculating that she might be dead than she would have anticipated. 'At least is would explain this craziness'. And, although it had been some time sicne Isabelle and her mom used were regular church-goers, Isabelle was confident that she had never learned about any strange afterlife like this. So again, not really a possible solution. Isabelle started making her way over to the seven-leaf clover marshmallows, considering other possibilities. 'I could be in a coma,' Isabelle thought. This was more appealing than death of course, but practically speaking, didn't produce any possible courses of action she could take to resolve it. Perhaps the theory was lending her comfort, 'It might make sense....but then, why would this be my coma world?' Isabelle asked herself. 'Plus, I'm pretty sure its hard science that people in comas cannot recognize that they are in comas," Isabelle decided. 'I mean, that's basically a known fact!' So, that couldn't be it. Isabelle was starting to consider more absurd possibilities; falling into wormholes - 'when would that have happened?', contracting some Benjamin Button-esque disease - 'I don't think those are real, but maybe I should pick up a book at the library' and even going so far as to consider the most absurd of possibilities like magic or witchcraft - 'that would be the day.' Then there was the other possibility - maybe, just maybe - this was who she was. Maybe Isabelle was a sophomore...It seemed so....so impossible. Because she knew, in her head, that she was a Higgins senior, set to graduate. Yet at the same time, part of her also felt that was....was wrong. Part of her felt that....that maybe what was happening.....maybe it was...it was.....'supposed to be this way.' Her head began hurting her as she tried to reflect on this idea. Certainly she could disprove it, but every time she tried, 'I just...can't for some reason. Even if I know its not right...' 'Whatever it is,' Isabelle decided, "I need to figure it out a little bit better before I bring it up to mom." Perhaps her mom's conversation with her last night rang true: 'Being grown up means accepting what is happening, and then figuring it out by myself.' Isabelle confidently thought. Whether she understood what her mother's message really meant, that was all together another story. Isabelle was so lost in thought, she had no idea her mom had entered the kitchen. Jane came up from behind Isabelle, gave her a little kiss on the cheek, before smiling and simply saying "good morning." Isabelle was so startled she nearly fell out of her chair! Once Isabelle recovered though, she smiled back and replied "good morning mom." Jane was obviously dressed for work, but Isabelle asked anyway "Off to work mom?" as Isabelle was just wrapping up the last of her candy cane marshmallow from her breakfast bowl. Jane poured herself some coffee in a to-go mug, turned back to her daughter, and replied "Yes, and I'm running late actually. Please make sure to tidy up around here before I get home. Love you!' And just like that Jane was out the door. Isabelle, meanwhile, barely acknowledged her mom's dictation, instead focusing on snapping up the last of the remaining runes, before turning to her sudoku, and push her bowl of leftover milk out further onto the island to make room for her puzzle. Isabelle had been at it for about 30 minutes before she inserted the last number - "Got it!" - and triumphantly threw her arms up into the air, dropping her pen on the floor. With no plans for the day, Isabelle rotated between her favorite lazy day activities. School would be starting next week, and she wanted to take advantage of every minute of free time possible. Isabelle passed the rest of the morning watching a movie in the basement, followed by warming some leftovers from last night for lunch. After inhaling her lunch, she pushed the dish and her napkin out on the kitchen counter. Isabelle then went to the living room and got comfortable on the couch, getting lost in a few more chapters of "The Emerald Chronicles." As her mind wandered away from her world and into the Emerald Kingdoms, all of her concerns of the morning washed away. 'Who cares anyway what people think I am?' Isabelle thought. 'Princess Henrietta has never cared, and she's like, the coolest girl ever.' Isabelle found comfort in this world - which frankly, made more sense to her than her own sometimes. Isabelle finally started to feel more relaxed with herself, having dispelled her concerns over her perceived age, at least for now. Her book was a savior of sorts, distracting her from the world around her, and allowing her to transport her mind, body, and soul into a narrative that felt better. It is only truly special writing that ever allowed her to do that, and at that moment, she didn't care what anyone thought - The Emerald Chronicles did that for her. Part of Isabelle wanted to finish her whole book that afternoon. But another part of her couldn't bear to already be finished with it. Deciding that she wanted to save a few chapters and savor her book, Isabelle put the Everlasting Night down and decided to head back downstairs to flip through some television. Before she did so, she stopped in the kitchen, pulled a box of cookies out of the cupboard, grabbing a few and setting the rest down next to the sink. Isabelle then opened the fridge, pulling out some milk and pouring it directly into her coffee mug. 'Nothing like milk and cookies' she thought, setting the milk container down on the counter and closing the fridge behind her. Cookies and milk in hands, Isabelle headed down to the basement to waste her remaining hours of the afternoon away. Isabelle settled herself onto the couch, and grabbed the TV remote, nuzzling herself into a comfortable position. As she was scrolling through the guide, Isabelle was disappointed with her options: 'Seen it. Don't wanna. Don't wanna. Ugh...what's that. Boring. Boring Boring. More Boring.' There was simply nothing worth watching. Until... Isabelle happened upon a show title she had not seen in some time. 'Wow. They actually still air "Rover-Roo and the Cluefinders!"' Isabelle thought to herself. ' I haven't seen this since I was....wow a long time.' It had been her favorite childhood show, a cartoon about a trusty golden retriever named Rover and his band of cluefinders, who worked to solve silly conundrums that took place in their local town "Awesomeville." Having seen nothing else that she wanted to watch - and admittedly, her interest being piqued - Isabelle turned the television show on. The animation had certainly been updated. And though it had been some time, Isabelle was quite certain this was a reboot and she had never seen the episode before. Before she knew it, Isabelle's attention had been fully captured by the show. Rover-Roo was apparently on some sort of marathon, and Isabelle allowed herself, episode after episode, to become more enamored with the show. As the episodes ran, Isabelle dunked her cookies into her milk, chomping down her lactose soaked treats. Before she knew it, her cookies were finished, and she elected to guzzle down the rest of the milk, cookie crumbs and all. "ahhhhhh! delicious!" she concluded, setting the glass down next to her on the couch. Rover-Roo continued to play, and interesting, Isabelle played along. Isabelle was completely ensnared by each episode, getting more and more invested as it played, and trying to solve each conundrum herself. In fact, she was shocked at a few of the revelations, failing more often than not to identify the crafty conundrum culprit! "Maybe if I had the skills of Rover-Roo and his band, I'd be able to solve what was going on with me' Isabelle thought. "Wouldn't that make things easier...' As the hours passed, Isabelle got more and more comfortable in the couch. She and without knowing it, fell asleep right then and there, as Rover-Roo continued to solve crimes in the background, and her empty milk glass tumbling down beside her. Isabelle fell away into a world of dreams. She had slept so well the night before, it was odd that she was here sleeping again. Then again, such is the way of the lazy day in. Her dreams took her from place to place; to the Emerald Kingdom to hang out with princesses, to Awesomeville to solve crimes, and of course, back to school, to her dance performance. Unlike her waking mind, her dream mind seemed at peace, with each place she went to. Even as Isabelle relived her performance, seeing her friends' gazes again as she wrapped up her performance, she felt nothing but an utter certainty - a certainty that all would be well. It was then that her certainty dissipated. Isabelle was started awake by the sound of her name being called. "ISABELLE - WHAT ON EARTH!?" .... ..... 'Wha.....Wha......Whas going on......' Isabelle thought, rubbing her eyes awake. Then she heard it again. "ISABELLE. Get down here NOW!" ... .... It was her mom, calling her. 'She must think I am upstairs,' Isabelle concluding, continuing to emerge from her dream world, where the boundaries between reality and imagination were blurred, disoriented as to what was real around her and what was not. "Isabelle! This instant!" 'That was certainly real,' Isabelle noted the anger in her mom's voice. "Coming Mom! I'm down here!" Isabelle shouted back, with as much energy as she could muster. It was at that moment that Isabelle noticed she had a second problem; she really needed to pee. Between her mom yelling at her, the haze of waking up, and her now aching.....'wow seriously, I really need to go'.....bladder, she was starting to get a little grumpy. 'This was not how I wanted to wake up.' Isabelle lifted herself off of the couch, and looked back, noting that her glass had tipped over while she slept. Whatever milk had been leftover in the glass, and a few crumbs, had left a wet spot on the couch where they had spilled out. Isabelle saw it, and then grabbed her glass, paying no attention to the stain on the couch. In fact, the thought had not even occurred to her that she had left the stain - all she could muster was merely noting it was there. It was only as she stood, however, that Isabelle began to appreciate the severity of her situation. Her bladder was absolutely begging to release, and release it would, whether she wanted to or not. Isabelle contemplated rushing to the bathroom, but even the thought of moving quickly was out of the question. 'Inch along.....just Inch along' Isabelle reminded herself, shimmying her way toward the staircase. Isabelle had one thing on her mind, and one thing only. Pee. Suddenly, though, she was reminded of another issue. "Isabelle Marie. Get. Up. Here. Now!" Despite her mother's repeated calls, Isabelle's bladder had occupied her mind to such a degree, she had all but forgotten her mother was calling her. But Jane had just reminded her: she had two problems to deal with. Isabelle made her way to the stairs, climbing one step at a time, careful not to spread one leg too far from the other out of fear that the proverbial tank may spill. 'How.....how is this happening to me.....This was now the second time today this happened. What was going on?' Unfortunately, there was no time to answer that question. More immediate needs had to be addressed. 'Just one stair at a time. Up one two. Up one two. ohmygod.' Isabelle was not confident shew as going to make it. 'I had one friggin glass of milk!' Isabelle was so completely focused on not peeing, that she didn't notice her mom standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, tapping her foot, looking down at her daughter. Isabelle looked up, met her mom's eyes, and quickly tried to cover up her strange walking behavior. "Hey mom. What's going on?" Jane looked down at her daughter, furious. She was about to chastise her when, she stopped for a moment, noticing her daughter acting.....no....walking strangely. But this was no time to pay attention to that, she reminded herself. Strange walking is no excuse for what she just saw. "What is up, Isabelle, is that you left a disaster in the kitchen. Cereal bowl on the counter. Milk out of the fridge. Cookie box opened next to the sink. Lunch bowl out. And you left all the leftovers on the counter! What on earth did you do in there? I asked you to do one thing today! Just clean! Come on Iz... It looks like the kids you babysit ran rampant in there!" Isabelle stopped on the staircase, ducking her head and starring at her feet. She was embarrassed. No, not embarrassed. Humiliated. She didn't remember leaving such a mess. But then again, she was pretty sure she left all the things her mom said were out, out. "Sorry mom....." Isabelle mumbled, feeling flush and embarrassed. "I just forgot I guess.... I didn't mean to." The shame of her mess did nothing to alleviate the ache in her bladder, and at that moment, Isabelle was unsure she had the strength both to not cry, and to not pee. Worst of all, she wasn't quite sure she didn't want to just quit and do both.... 'No! That's.....That's absurd. I am not going to cry....AND I AM MOST CERTAINLY NOT GOINT TO PEE MYSELF!" Isabelle turned even more red at the idea that her priority seemed to have been not crying, rather than not peeing. Isabelle tried to discreetly cross her legs even tighter than they already were. Jane's fury had somewhat subsided. The sight of her daughter on the stairs, metaphorically shrinking before her, and crossing her legs, brought back memories of her as a little girl, when she would.....well no matter. Isabelle seemed sufficiently disappointed with herself, and Jane decided to allow her daughter an out, but not without stressing consequences for the future. "Well, go get in there now and clean. I'm going upstairs to change. And by the time I get down, everything better be put away. You are not to do a single thing until that kitchen is spotless. Or you aren't going to that sleepover with Dani and Lola they were so nice to invite you to tomorrow night!" Isabelle's face shot up, and froze. The flush that was once in her face was erased, overcome by a frozen fear and paleness. If her mom was even contemplating, let alone actually speaking, a threat to her sleepover, she meant business. Nothing else mattered now. She would clean, no matter what it took. No matter what. Isabelle squeaked out an "yes mum" as Jane turned and headed up to her room. Jane was giving her an out, but she was serious. If her daughter didn't clean the kitchen by the time she was back down, Isabelle wouldn't be going to the sleepover. Isabelle knew her mom was serious. It took everything she had, but she pinched her bladder and scurried up the stairs and darted into the bathroom. Each movement, each step, shifted her at-capacity bladder, the weight of which Isabelle felt with her every fiber. Isabelle managed to make her way into the kitchen without peeing, and went straight to work. Isabelle grabbed the milk container, and opened the fridge, practically throwing it in. 'Why on earth did I even leave this out to begin with?' Isabelle, in truth, was disappointed in herself. The kitchen really was filthy.....how had she forgotten? Isabelle processed this thought just as another unbearable ping from her bladder caused her knees to keel, and she bent over just in time to prevent herself from releasing her bladder. 'Come on...Come on you can do this.....' Isabelle grabbed the leftovers she ate for lunch, and placed them in the fridge as well, before closing it up behind her. Isabelle shimmied her way over to the sink and grabbed the open box of cookies, proceeding to close it before shifting her way over to the pantry to put them away. A second unbearable ping from her bladder told her she did not have much time left. Isabelle could not remember being in this much pain or this desperate for the toilet. 'Deep Breath Iz...You're almost done." Turning back to the counter, Isabelle identified her two bowls - one from breakfast, and one from lunch - that needed to be cleaned. Bent over and hunched, Isabelle made her way to the lunch bowl, grabbed it, and turned toward the sink to give it a quick rinse. As she turned on the faucet, Isabelle immediately regretted it. The sound of the running water did her bladder no favors. Isabelle barely let the water run into the bowl, before pulling open the dishwasher. 'The dishwasher will have to do the bulk of the work on this,' Isabelle concluded. Turning back to her cereal bowl, Isabelle immediately regretted not turning the sink off, the echo of the water making her pain - and resistance - exponentially harder to contain. Isabelle grabbed the bowl with one hand, handed it to the other, and basically threw the remaining milk toward the sink. It was a miracle, in fact, that it landed in the sink. Holding the bowl, Isabelle starred down at the dishwasher. She was convinced she didn't have any time left. Her bladder was at the end, and here she was, one feat away from being able to get the relief she so desperately needed in the bathroom. Isabelle slid the bowl into a slot, and then starred down at the dishwasher door. She would need to close it, she realized, but it was just out of her grasp. Isabelle contemplated using her foot to lift the door up, and close it with her hand, but was convinced even lifting a foot off of the ground would result in her bladder emptying then and there. She needed to sort this out. If Isabelle was ever provided the opportunity to be a fly on the wall at this moment, she would have scoffed at the idea that, first of all, she would ever be in this position, but second, that she ever, ever would have done what she did next. Because there was no sense to what she did. It was, perhaps. the worst possible thing she could have done. What compelled her to do so, she could not tell you. But what she can tell you is that, what she did do, was a mistake. Isabelle decided the best course of action, to close this door, and complete her cleaning tasks, was none other than to squat down, and lift the door up. Whether it was her ballet training, her mind racing in the moment, or purely just the worst idea she had ever had, that was the tactic Isabelle went with. For soem reason, in the haze of the event, Isabelle had not considered that squatting would literally force her legs apart, the only thing currently clogging her bladder. But Isabelle was not thinking clearly, that much was obvious. So, Isabelle, now convinced her plan was, well, not crazy, dropped into a perfectly elegant squat, proudly reaching the dishwasher, before throwing it up in relief of completing her task. "Ahhhhhhhh" But it was not the relief from the task that resulted in her audible relief. Rather, as soon as Isabelle descended into her squat, a burst of warm pee broke the dam, and released straight into her panties. Whether it was the pee, or simply having closed the dishwasher, Isabelle immediately popped up and forced her legs back together, sealing the burst. It didn't occur to Isabelle what had happened immediately. In fact, all she could focus on in the immediate moments after popping upright was that she had successfully cleaned the kitchen. But, after a few seconds, the horror of what occurred hit her, forcing Isabelle to shove her legs together even tighter. The warm burst of wetness that had escaped into her panties had transitioned into a cool reminder of her abject failure, and droplets started running down her legs. Now, she really did just want to cry. Realizing, however, that far greater tragedy could still come, Isabelle managed to hold back the tears, and began making her way toward the bathroom on the main floor, just as she heard her mom descending the stairs. "Isabelle - is everything put away?" Her mom's voice echoed toward her. 'The only thing that could possible be worse than actually peeing yourself would be someone finding out,' Isabelle thought. With whatever strength she had left, Isabelle darted toward the bathroom, narrowly missing her mom on the way. Isabelle barely bothered to shut the door behind her, turning her butt toward the toilet seat, and tearing her now damp sweatpants and wet panties down her legs, releasing a gyser of pee into the toilet bowl before she even managed to sit on the toilet seat. "AhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhooowoowowwwwwGooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood!" It was pure blissful relief. Isabelle could imagine no better feeling. At that moment, it didn't matter that she had not completely made it in time, that she had wet panties, that she had actually wet her pants or even been in position to allow what happened happen. All that mattered was that, well, she got to pee. 'This is, perhaps, the greatest relief ever' Isabelle thought. "Isabelle. Is it clean? I am coming in." Isabelle heard her mom ask from the bottom of the stairs, realizing she had not responded. "Yes Mom! It's clean. I am in the bathroom. I really needed to go!" Jane walked into the kitchen to examine her daughter's work. 'She at least put everything away. But the counters are still dirty - they could have used a wipe.' Jane thought about making a big deal about that, but debated as to whether it was worth it as she sat down at the counter. She sighed, and picked up the unfolded newspaper page with the sudoku Isabelle had finished on it. Jane was continuing to debate what to do, as she surveyed the completed puzzle. 'Boy, she made a lot of mistakes in this. Must have given up. I mean...there are 4 sevens in this row...what on earth.' Deciding to let it go, and give her daughter a break, Jane called back to Isabelle. "It looks okay in here sweetie. Thank you for doing that." Jane was about to turn and leave, before adding one more comment that Isabelle didn't expect. "And if you had to go so bad, you should have peed before you started cleaning. Don't need you making another kind of mess," Jane said jokingly.

You're very kind! I apologize to those readers who have been waiting a while. I know the feeling, and I always hated it! I have a few chapters prepared, but have not had the chance to read through and edit. I have been travelling to see family and had some work conflicts the last few weeks. But they will come! It is, or more accurately, will be, a diaper story! I know slow stories aren't for all, but I hope you stick around for the journey!

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 12 Isabelle had returned to her seat in the auditorium. After wrapping her performance up, she started feeling unsure of herself, if only because she remembered nothing of actually, well, performing. Isabelle was in her seat pondering the surreal experience. 'It felt so real. It felt like I was really there. Really in Paris. But that was ridiculous...' Isabelle was starting to get nervous. 'But I mean, real time passed. I wasn't just imagining it. Was I just standing still the entire time I was up there?' Her doubts began creeping up again. 'It couldn't be. I mean...I'm gross. I was obviously dancing. But what did I do? And more importantly....why is this happening?' Of all the questions Isabelle should have been asking, the last one was the most critical. Students were not required to stay after their performances. Indeed, a number of the ballet students who had wrapped theirs up had already left. Others remained to watch the juniors and seniors go through their routines. In truth, it was a really long day to stick around for. In the past Isabelle had left after she finished, but due to the change in her scheduled time, she really didn't have anything else to do. 'I have to get my head right,' Isabelle kept thinking. 'These fantasies are not good. And they are going to start interfering with my performances,' she thought. 'That said.....' Isabelle was starting to feel an indescribable pull. The fantasies, whatever they were, they felt good. 'It's everything I've always dreamed of, in truth,' Isabelle admitted, '...but even though they feel real...they obviously aren't. Look around you Iz...you aren't in Paris. You're home.' Even though her mind knew what she experienced had been some sort of mental episode, her heart felt warm. She felt fulfilled, living out her greatest dreams, even if it was only her imagination. "I feel....lost.' Isabelle didn't know what to do. She could tell her mom what happened...what was happening. Her mom would be understanding. But obviously, Jane would also be extremely concerned. Isabelle knew her mom; she could chalk it up to the high pressures Higgins put on their students, or an overwhelming schedule, or anything really. She loved her mom, but she sometimes treated Isabelle like a porcelain doll who couldn't handle 'it.' She could tell her friends what what happening. Isabelle wasn't sure they would believe her, but at the very least they would listen. Dani and Lola usually had good advice when it came to dance issues. But was this even related to dance? I mean, it wasn't really...But maybe it was? Maybe other dancers like her had this happen to them. If not though, they would think she was nuts. She could tell no one. This obviously presented the fewest obstacles. 'I mean, its only happened twice,' Isabelle thought, trying to ease her concerns away. 'And its not like anything bad has happened....at least I don't think,' she continued. "All I am going to do is worry my mom or scare my friends into thinking I am some nut.' Keeping it to herself seemed like the most appealing thing to do, at least for now. As Isabelle was pondering her dilemma, a whisper came over her shoulder "Iz! You were amazing!" It was Dani. Isabelle couldn't help but smile. "Seriously Iz, it was a great first showcase. There is no way you don't get a good role in some of the productions this year," Lola added. 'First? We only have one showcase this year' Isabelle thought to herself. "We have to head back to our seats, or else Smith will lose it when its our turn to get on stage, but well see you Friday night! So. Proud. Of. You." Lola emphasized each of the last words, before laying a kiss on Isabelle's cheek. Isabelle couldn't help but smile, but something was still bugging her. Isabelle thought back to Smith calling her with the sophomores. The more she thought about it, Isabelle was called in the correct spot, if she had actually been a sophomore. And then her measurements....Smith had gotten them off. She hadn't been that small for years, but.....And then her mom. And Lola for that matter. They kept saying this was her 'first' showcase, and making other remarks that made no sense at all. Isabelle was perplexed, which just made her re-visit her concerns about what happened on stage. 'What is happening? Why is everyone treating me so....oddly?' Isabelle set out to figure out what this was all about. The easiest solution, of course, would be just to point out that last year during the showcase she had perfor- .....'What did I do last year for my showcase?' Isabelle couldn't recall. Sitting here now, Isabelle didn't remember the music, the routine, or quite frankly, any part of her showcase from last year. Isabelle sat, focusing and re-focusing, trying to stir up any memory of it. But nothing. Nothing at all. Her head felt fuzzy, and the memory of her performance, even a part of it, wouldn't come to her. 'Whatever, it was so long ago,' she redirected her mind, 'But its not important because my first year I definitely did - ....What the hell?' Isabelle knew she remembered her first showcase. Everyone did. Much like the sophomore girls that went on before her, she had been a nervous wreck. I mean, she, Lola, and Dani had practiced for we- ......But no...maybe they hadn't. Isabelle couldn't remember practicing that routine with them. She couldn't remember the routine either. 'It's on the tip of my tongue. I remember it had......music?...huh, that's the best you can do Iz?' She laughed to herself. 'Of course it had music. I just can't......I can't think. My head is killing me." the fuzziness in her head was now a considerable throbbing. 'All this thinking isn't helping." "Henry, Amelia" had just completed her routine. It would be ages before this was all wrapped up. And Isabelle was not feeling well at all. Slowly, Isabelle stood from her seat, and went towards her friends in the back. The teachers cared much less about what order the seniors sat in, and she was not surprised to find Lola, Dani, and Victoria all sitting together. As Isabelle approached, her friends waved her over. 'Great work Isabelle," Victoria started. 'You were remarkable. I still haven't seen anyone better yet today. It definitely left an impression." Isabelle smiled back genuinely, "thanks Tori! I...uh...was happy with my performance?" Isabelle ended her statement with a high inflection, unsurprising considering she had no memory of what she actually did out there. The next part she kept to herself 'of course I was better than the sophomores and juniors, though.' Isabelle turned her attention to Dani and Lola. "Please don't hate me, but I am really having a throbbing headache. I am going to see if my mom can pick me up earlier than expected. But I am going to miss you perform. I am so sorry! But the lights, and the noise....I'm just really not feeling well." Her friends returned sympathetic looks. "Of course Iz! Don't think twice about it. We didn't expect you to stay the whole time. Go home! We'll see you Friday." Dani said, offering a sympathetic face, and stroking her arm as she left. 'That was sweet of them,' Isabelle thought. Isabelle stood up, and continued up the ramp toward the exit in the back. She waited until the current performer finished her routine - Patel, Angela, had been less than impressive - and then opened the door to leave. Isabelle was immediately struck by how bright it was in the hall, or, conversely, how dark it had been in the auditorium. The bright hallway lights hitting her eyes did not help her headache. Isabelle called her mom, intending to let her know that she was done, and to see if she could get a lift home earlier than expected. "You have reached the voicemail of Jane Weber. Please leave a message." Isabelle hung up the phone before hearing the tone, saving her mom the trouble of listening to a one second voicemail. She then sent her mom a text, letting her know she was ready to go home: "Hey mom. Performed earlier than expected. Any chance you can pick me up?" It would be a bit before she heard back, so Isabelle decided she would head toward the registration office to get her schedule set up. On her way there, she felt the vibration of her phone. Her mom had answered her quicker than expected "Sure honey. I'll be over in a half hour. Can't wait to hear how it went." 'It was a good question,' Isabelle thought, though having no idea as to how to respond, she would have to relay what her friends told her. Regardless, her mom's impending arrival would mean that she would need to be quick about picking up her schedule, so Isabelle started hightailing it across the school, toward the administration office (finding time to do a couple of pirouettes on the way, of course). Isabelle arrived at the office at a time when several of the sophomore dancers had also taken the opportunity to get their own schedules. Isabelle felt a little out of place, but the students were kind, all passing compliments to her about her performance. She did the same in response, though she honestly couldn't recall any of them performing. She had been so caught up in her frustration, she had been too distracted to remember anyone else's particulars. Isabelle waited patiently to get to the front of the line and provide her information to the secretary. She was second in line when her phone buzzed - 'mom letting me know she's outside' - and sent a text back to her mom letting her know she would be out soon. It was her turn at the desk, and so she walked up with a smile, and politely let the secretary know why she was there. "I'm here to pick up my class schedule for the year," Isabelle said excitedly. "Name please." was the only response Isabelle received. "Sure, Isabelle Weber. Sen-" Isabelle was cut off. "Ms. Weber, I have your schedule right here," the secretary responded, handing her a sealed manila envelope. "Next." 'Well that was painless,' Isabelle concluded, disregarding the secretary's abruptness for simply being busy, and headed back toward the front door to meet her mom. Isabelle pushed the doors open, immediately spotting her mom's car, and jogged over to the car, opening the door to the front seat and slipping. in. "Hi Mom!" Isabelle exclaimed, as she buckled her seatbelt, "thanks for coming to get me. I really wasn't feeling well!" Jane looked at her daughter with suspicion. Jane was worried that the showcase had not gone well at all, and the headache was merely an excuse ot get out of school. She decided to tread carefully. "No worries sweetie. I'm sorry your head hurts. We'll get you some medicine at home." Jane paused, thinking on how best to proceed. 'Directly,' she concluded. "How was your day? How did your showcase go sweetie?! Tell me everything. Were you nervous?" Jane regretted asking the last question instantly. Isabelle turned to look at her mom, smiling "It went really well Mom. At least I think it did," Isabelle clarified, and then continued "I mean, everyone told me I did well. Really well. Even Dani, Lola, and Tori said I did a great job. So I'm really pleased." That was the truth, anyway. Isabelle had been pleased with the feedback, even if she did have no clue what took place. "That's amazing sweetheart. I am SO proud of you!! To celebrate, I got all the things for your favorite meal! Its going to be great, and picking you up early gave me just the excuse I needed to go home early and start on cooking." Isabelle was looking forward to dinner now, her mind leaving the conversation and thinking strictly about food. Her mom, however, continued on "How did Lola and Dani do?" The question brought Isabelle back to the present. Her mom was pulling up to the driveway at the house, just as Isabelle started answering. "I didn't get to see Mom. They were going after me." Isabelle said, opening the car door and getting out. Isabelle walked around the back of the car, and joined her mom heading up the stairs. "Aw that's a shame sweetie. But they were probably going much later." Jane responded, as she put the keys in the front door, opening it up and carrying the bags she had with her into the kitchen. Isabelle had long ago decided not to bring up the issues related to her performance, but her mom's remark reminded her of all the other odd stuff that had been going on. That, she would need to bring up, because quite frankly, it was driving her nuts, and so she followed her mom into the kitchen to talk to her about it. "What are you talking about mom?' Isabelle asked the question as she stopped in the hallway behind her mom, closing the door. Isabelle had probably asked the question in a far more aggressive tone than she intended, but between her head, and what happened today, she was starting to get angry again. Isabelle then made her way to the kitchen as her mom started unloading groceries. Rather than wait for her mom, Isabelle continued. "I normally always go after Lola and Dani. It goes alphabetically by last name. I'm usually the last performer in my year mom." "That's right sweetie. In your year." Jane responded, as she set some ground beef and pork into a mixing bowl. She turned back to her daughter, who now sported a....well a pretty mean looking face. "What's wrong sweetie?" Isabelle was feeling irate. She was ready to blow. 'But that's unreasonable. Mom is just asking questions. Maybe I mentioned why I went before them, is all?' Isabelle was trying desperately to calm herself down, but the thoughts of what transpired at school was bugging her. "That's just it mom," Isabelle was getting upset again, and for some reason, was having trouble controlling it. "Ms. Smith called me to go with the Sophomores. The Sophomores, mom, if you can believe it. And then she got my height and weight all wrong, and so I went back to tell her, but did she care? NO. And it was just so annoying. Because she didn't let me go. And I was away from Dani and Lola, and they helped,. But GOD mom, it was just...ughhh so frustrating. Everyone was treating me like I BELONGED with them." Jane looked at her daughter, perplexed. 'What is she on about?' Jane thought 'is this some game?' Jane turned to put some boxed pasta near the stove. "Sweetheart, I know your best friends are Dani and Lola, but that doesn't mean the school is going to make changes for you. You don't get to dance with the seniors just because you're friends with them. It's not a big deal." Jane reached for the salt and pepper, and started seasoning the meat, before adding "and you said you did well. What are you so worried about. I'm proud of you." Isabelle was about to blow a gasket. "Mom, what the hell are YOU on about now? Why are YOU treating me like this too? Is this some sort of JOKE? You think you're being FUNNY? This was really annoying mom. What is WRONG WITH YOU?" Jane looked her daughter in the eye. 'Isabelle does not speak to me like that,' she thought, doing everything to keep her composure and prevent her jaw from hitting the ground. "Isabelle. Why are you so mad? I'm telling you not to worry about it. You did great. Your performance was great. You should feel good about yourself. So they made you dance with the other girls in your class. Even Dani and Lola know you did well." Isabelle heard nothing, nothing other than "other girls in your class." That was it. She couldn't take it anymore. "I don't know what sort of SICK joke you, and Smith, and whoever the fuck else you have in on this are playing. I AM NOT playing your stupid fucking game though." Isabelle was heaving, breathing harder and harder now. And now, now she was shouting at her mom. Now she erupted. "I AM NOT A SOPHOMORE. I AM A SENIOR. I AM A HIGGINS SENIOR. I FUCKING HATE THIS. ITS NOT FUNNY. I. AM. *sniff. NOT. *sniff. NOT. A. SOPHOMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE. STOP **sniff sniff. TREATING ME LIKE THIS." Isabelle was literally steaming, as she finished yelling at her mom. As the last few words exited her mouth, Isabelle had started tearing up. As she wrapped up the last word, her tears turned to full on bawling. 'What is going on' she thought to herself, huffing for air and weeping. Jane was...well shocked was not a sufficient word. Her world had been shaken. They didn't have many rules in the house, but swearing, Isabelle knew that was not tolerated. And yelling at her? In this state? She was acting like a damned toddler. Jane was sympathetic that Isabelle had a challenging day. But this incomprehensible tantrum would not go unpunished. "You listen to me right now Isabelle Marie." Jane responded in a very quiet, serious voice. "I don't know what the heck is going on with you right now. But this is utterly unacceptable attitude from a young lady like yourself. And it was not how I raised you." Jane began speaking a little louder, if only to be loud enough to be heard over Isabelle's sobbing. "This little fit, I won't listen to it. If you want to tell me what's actually going on, then I am happy to listen. But you are obviously not ready to." Isabelle's sobbing got louder, and now her rose was running. Jane turned and grabbed some tissues, handing them to her daughter like an olive branch. Jane continued "I have a lot to do her to make YOU a special meal," she said emphasizing the word 'you,' "Because despite your little tantrum, I am still proud of you." Isabelle finally met her eye, and Jane could see how flustered she was. "You are going to go upstairs. Now. Shower. Cool off. Think about what you've said and done today. And then we are going to enjoy dinner together. Am I clear?" Isabelle was in shambles. Her mom hadn't spoken to her like that in, well, she couldn't even remember how long it had been. But Isabelle knew she was right. Even if Isabelle didn't want to admit it. And her suggestion was the smart thing to do. She could return downstairs later, and have a civil conversation with her mom about this. I mean, of course her mom knew she wasn't 16 anymore. But that wasn't what Isabelle did. She persisted. "But Mom.....This isn't fair. Its. Not. Fair." Isabelle said between tears. "I am the one being used as a PUNCH LINE right now." Isabelle couldn't go on further. She could no longer control the tears, and through them, could only repeat the single phrase 'is...not..faiw"..... Jane had now had enough. "Apparently, I was not clear. UPSTAIRS NOW ISABELLE MARIE. I don't want to hear a WORD out of you until I come and fetch you like the ungrateful little girl you are behaving like." Jane then grabbed Isabelle by the wrist, and proceeded to drag her to the staircase, tears and all, and gave her a gentle shove up the stairs. "Not. Until. I. Come. Get. You." Jane punctuated each word. Isabelle stomped her feet up each stair, as her mom returned to the kitchen to work on dinner. Isabelle turned into her room, threw her bag and schedule on the ground, and then threw herself on her bed face first. Isabelle proceeded to kick her feet up and down, followed by grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. 'What is...snif...sniff.....What is going on with me?!?!?" Isabelle cried, over and over again into her pillow. Her mind was racing. First Smith. Then her friends. Now her Mom. Everyone was treating her like a......well, like she was younger. What the hell was going on? Was it coordinated, like she suspected. 'It can't be....they would never do that..." Was this just another one of her 'fantasies'....'No...those have always been good, this...this is torture.' Isabelle was getting angrier and angrier. 'I need to calm down,' she thought. 'This is all just too much..' It would be at least an hour before she calmed down, at least enough to turn over in the bed and sit up. In truth, Isabelle had no idea how much time had passed, but she was finally feeling more herself. Slowly, she started undressing, removing her slippers and the rest of her ballet clothes, deciding to get into a shower. 'Maybe the hot water will help me feel better,' she thought. Now undressed, Isabelle made her way into the bathroom, and started the shower. She sat on the toilet while the water warmed up, having a long pee, and starting to make a plan on how to proceed forward. Isabelle wiped, and moved into the shower, letting the warm water sooth her swollen face, her aching body, and hopefully, her ailing mind. 'This whole situation is obviously ridiculous' she thought, beginning to soak her hair in the warm water. 'I just need to calm down enough to have a civil conversation about it. I have no idea why I got so mad downstairs...but I wasn't nice to mom.' Isabelle grabbed her shampoo, and started lathering her hair. It felt good to massage her scalp. Her head had started feeling a bit better, but now, was starting to act up again. 'I just need to talk to mom and let her know what's been happening. I mean, obviously she hasn't forgotten about all my classes and performances last year. I can just talk to her about how I - ... ... Why does this keep happening?' Isabelle's head was pounding again, but more concerning was the fact that she couldn't remember.....anything from her junior year. Isabelle was trying, as hard as she could, to remember performances, or classes, teacher's names.....but every detail escaped her. She could....think of generalities; memories of being at Higgins with Lola and Dani, memories of laughing, and practicing dance, memories of...of....of being at home with her mom. But the details, they were all......fuzzy again. Doubt began to seep in, and Isabelle's heart was racing again. 'What is happening to me....I need to figure out what's going on.' But Isabelle was lost about how she would do that. She needed help. Needed guidance. But who on earth could she tell about what was going on. 'Mom' she concluded, sighing and accepting her fate. "I'll need to confide in mom.' Simply accepting that fact started to make Isabelle feel better, and she grabbed the bottle of soap, and started washing her body. 'She'll understand, or at the very least...she'll listen.' Isabelle concluded. This had to be the best course of action. What else could she do. Isabelle washed her body off, and washed the shampoo out of her hair. She quickly applied conditioner, and grabbed a razor, intending to start shaving her legs. It was more a habit than anything, but as she raised her left leg, she noticed there was barely any hair. 'Odd.' Isabelle thought, not connecting it to anything else. This too, Isabelle shrugged off. She had never been particularly hairy, but she usually had to shave her legs about once a week, and it had almost been 10 days. 'I'll take the win' she concluded. Isabelle finished getting the conditioner out of her hair, and then turned the water off, grabbing a towel off of the rack near the tub. Isabelle dried her body off, and stepped out of the shower, and briskly walked to her bedroom, feeling the contrasting cold air of the house cooling her body from the steamy shower. Isabelle finished drying herself off, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from her dressed, and a simple t shirt. She slipped the t shirt on, which basically hung on her like a dress, and wrapped her hair up in a towel to dry. Isabelle then slipped on the pants, having to tie the drawstring up so that they would stay up. She was happy to be in her 'comfies' as her mom would say, and she decided to lay down on her bed, letting her mind rest. Isabelle must have dozed off, because she was startled at her mom's knock at her door. Isabelle sat up abruptly on her bed, her face still puffy from all the crying. "Iz. Can I come in?" Her mom was using her gentle voice, Isabelle noted. "Ye...Yeah..." Isabelle responded, shaking off the remnants of her slumber. Jane walked into the room and sat down on the edge of Isabelle's bed. Jane put her hand on Isabelle's leg, just below her knee, holding her. The instant touch of her mom put Isabelle at ease. 'Now is my chance, I'll let her know what's going on.' Isabelle concluded, but before she could, her mom started. "Sweetie. I know you have had a challenging week. And It must be hard with so much changing around you." Jane began. Isabelle recognized she would need to wait to get her piece in, so sat there quietly, listening to her mom. "You're starting a big year at Higgins, your closest friends are graduating this year, you had a huge showcase today, and it's a lot for one little - my little girl I mean - to deal with." Jane's smile never wavered, and she now gripped Isabelle's leg with a little more force. "But what happened downstairs was not okay. You know we don't speak like that in this house. I don't know what happened to you. Maybe today wasn't everything you wanted it to be, but it sounded like you did great." Isabelle's head bowed now. Her mom was right. Isabelle had been out of line. "I want you to look at me Isabelle," her mom said, and then waited. It took Isabelle everything she had left in the tank - emotionally and physically - to lift her head up and meet her mom's gaze. "I want you to listen to me, really listen to me," Jane continued "As you grow up - and yes, you're still growing up - things are going to happen to you. Things are going to happen around you. Things you cannot explain. Things you don't always understand, or that don't make sense. And you won't be able to control it all. And that is really hard to accept." Isabelle's mind was starting to activate again - 'does mom know what's happening?' Isabelle wondered. Jane was not finished though. "But the truth is sweetie, what you're going to have to learn to do, what a grown up learns to do" Isabelle did not miss her mom's emphasis on the word 'grown up' when she was speaking, "..is that you need to accept the things that are happening, let them happen, all of it. And once you do, you can learn how to deal with those things. Once you sit back, and reflect and think about what is happening, and why it is happening, you'll be able to come up with solutions to these issues you are having. You'll learn to make the best of each and every situation. And in the end, you'll be happier. I promise. As soon as you accept it, all of it, you will find joy you didn't realize was there." Isabelle sat in silence after her mom finished. 'Accept it? But what was happening to her was not...normal. What was going on was not normal. Worse yet, her mom was confirming what she feared - that everyone thought she was younger than she was.' ... .... 'Was she?' ... .."Mom...I just..." Isabelle thought about what she wanted to say. She had intended to tell her mom what was going on. But after what her mom had just said...She would be doing the opposite. She would be resisting. And that would...not be grown up of her?' Isabelle reflected, before continuing. "I....I am sorry about yelling at you. And swearing. I was not nice. And you were nothing but nice to me. I'm sorry mom." Isabelle bowed her head again. She was embarrassed about what had happened. "It's okay sweetie. Now is there anything else you want to talk about?" Isabelle thought hard about how she wanted to answer this question. Maybe it was time to tell her mom what was going on. Everything. The dancing. How everyone was treating her. All of it. But maybe it was not the time. Maybe, just maybe, her mom was right. 'Maybe I need to accept what is going on...and that will allow me to solve it. Maybe in all my anger and frustration, I am overlooking a simple answer to all of this. Maybe....Maybe mom is right.' "No mom. Nothing else. I'm...I'm just sorry." Isabelle lunged into her mom, giving her a big hug, her towel falling to the ground and her hair falling with it. She held her mom long and hard; the hug was making her feel better, making her head feel better. Making...everything better. "Okay sweetie. Now let's go downstairs. You're special spaghetti and meatballs from scratch is ready. Let's celebrate my wonderful Izzy and all she's done today!' 'That does sound nice,' Isabelle thought. 'And spaghetti and meatballs are just the best!'

She certainly perceives it that way. We'll all just have to wait and see what happens! Thanks for following

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 11 "McCollum, Rebecca." A nervous girl walked up to Mrs. Smith, the head of the ballet department at Higgins, to get her measurements registered before going into the auditorium. 'Each girl approaching Smith looked positively ill," Isabelle was thinking. 'They better get themselves under control before they get on the stage.' Each year was the same. Those students that were attending Higgins full-time as students in the ballet department were required to perform at the showcase before semester began. The incoming class of high school freshman were not invited; they would only be going through orientation on Monday. But the other three classes - Sophomores, Juniors, and the Senior classes - would all perform individual showcases for the entire dance staff. The showcase determined, in large part, your original assignment in the school productions. "Patterson, Jennifer." Another girl sweating from her face approached Smith. The hallway outside the auditorium was packed tightly with students, all dressed, hair tied up, and preparing to perform. Isabelle had woken up especially early that morning to ensure she had enough time to have her coffee, er....do her business, and get her hair and makeup done and ready. Isabelle even got dressed at home, other than her slippers, something she rarely did. Walking into the school, Isabelle had felt apprehensive about her attire. Her leotard, though fitting her perfectly, was in fact a little juvenile. Now that she was in school, it felt as though the tiny diamond-like rhinestones patterned down her chest were about 5 times bigger than they probably were. 'Today is not the day to feel self-conscious,' she thought, but she couldn't help it at all. Isabelle couldn't kick the though that she would be instantly judged by her peers, by her colleagues, and most importantly, by the teachers. They had known Isabelle for years, and knew that the senior students appreciated how important the showcase was. Smith, Darrell, even Johansan would question her choice of attire. "Nothing else fit" would hardly be a satisfying excuse, nor would it really be explainable. Isabelle couldn't shake the nervous energy already taking over her body. That was until, of course, she exchanged her sneakers for her slippers. Instantaneously, her nerves left her; any concern she had about her outfit disappeared into an abyss, and didn't return. It was almost as if....'I know something was bothering me," Isabelle pondered, as she made her way to the meeting spot outside the auditorium, 'I just can't remember what...oh well.' The thought, the fear, the shame - they literally escaped her mind. "Slova, Katarina." A small petite girl approached Smith. 'She can't be more than 5 feet tall," Isabelle thought, and then returned to her conversation with Dani, Lola, and Victoria, who had all arrived just before Isabelle. 'It would be a while before she got called anyway,' Isabelle thought, 'they go in alphabetical order by year.' She was routinely the last to perform. "So Iz," Lola started, "Are you ready for your first time up? I remember I was so nervous when I did it. I was off cue, literally the whole time. I just couldn't bring myself to correct it." Isabelle looked at Lola, wondering what she was going on about. 'Yes, that HAD happened to Lola two years ago...why was she bringing it up...' Isabelle was about to ask what Lola was on about, when Dani chimed in "Ugh don't listen to her. You'll be fine. You've been telling us that you have the routine down perfectly. Just pretend your practicing." Dani was always encouraging, and her remarks distracted Isabelle from Lola's prior comments. "Thanks. And yah, I feel ready. I feel great in fact." She replied, honestly. Something about getting those slippers on....they just made all her concerns go away. "Proud of you Iz. You're going to do great," Lola added. Victoria stood by nodding. "Just remember, there's no pressure in your year. You just need to do your best, and learn the most you can from whatever role you get! It's such a great experience. I wish I could re-live it!" That time, Lola had to be kidding. 'No pressure? This was senior year.' Lola was really acting off today. What on earth was going - "Weber, Isabelle." Isabelle barely registered the fact that her name had been called. Only it couldn't be her name, but a sophomore girl with the same name. 'I wonder if she spells Isabelle the same way. I know some people use a 'z' instead of an 's'. Maybe she spells Weber with two 'b's, who knows?' Before Smith made a second request, Dani snapped her out of her daydream. "Iz!," she said sternly, "get up there now. You don't want to piss Smith off." Dani turned Isabelle around, and gently shoved her toward Smith. "Get up there now." Lola was shooing her as well, and blew a kiss. 'There had to be some sort of mistake. Obviously there was a mistake. I mean, Smith knew who she was. She had danced with her for four years.' Isabelle decided she better just go up and get this straightened out, and so quickly pattered up to Smith to explain herself. As she was leaving, she faintly overheard the conversation taking place with her friends behind her. Isabelle slowed, just to catch enough of it. "How is it you know her again?," which had originated from Victoria. She must have been asking about someone else Dani and Lola knew, the three of them having been students longer than most. "Our moms became friends, and spent a lot of time together as kids. Its just always been us!" Lola had responded. Isabelle thought it was an odd conversation. Contrary to her initial belief, it was about her. 'Maybe they were talking about me, but....that wasn't how they met.....at least I don't think it was," Isabelle though to herself. After staying for the summer program, Victoria had decided to join Higgins for her senior year. Isabelle was excited; she rather liked Victoria. But Lola's story didn't quite add up. 'Didn't they all just meet in class all those years ago? Whatever, I have to go deal with this.' Isabelle made her way up to Ms. Smith, intending to correct the obvious mistake that had been made. "Ms. Weber, taking our time are we?" Isabelle was about to interrupt, but before she could "Enough of that. We cannot fall behind. On the platform." Isabelle's eyes got bigger. "But Ms. Smith, there's been a - " Smith looked up from her clipboard with a face Isabelle knew all too well. "There has been no mistake, Ms. Weber. On the platform, NOW." Isabelle was not sure whether it was the fear or something else, but she was up on the platform she was directed to get on for her measurements faster and more compliant than she had intended. "Smith then began turning her, measuring her, and weighing her, and checking various other dimensions. "Very good. 5 foot 2. 92 pounds. Good shoulder-hip ratio. Head on in Ms. Weber, and seat yourself next to Ms. Tan." Isabelle was about to take the opportunity to interject, but was cut off when she opened her mouth. "Now Ms. Weber. Do not make me ask again. Anderson, Jasmine." And with that, Isabelle headed into the auditorium. She pushed open the double door, and started descending the ramp with the red carpeting, toward the first few rows of the center of the auditorium. She could see most - or all - the sophomore girls sitting and waiting already. They wouldn't wait for the juniors and seniors to come in before performing, so she expected they would start shortly. Isabelle, of course, would need to correct the record at some point before she was inadvertently called up to perform her showcase, but Smith was obviously busy now, and she could just flag a teacher inside and explain it to them. 'I mean, this was ridiculous,' she thought to herself, 'one more thing I need to deal with today - wait... ...did she say 5 foot 2? ...and did she say I weighed only 92 pounds?' Isabelle stopped in her tracks. She contemplated going back to Smith - there had been too many mistakes. But did she really want to bother her more than she already had. And she was planning on correcting her assigned performance spot anyway, couldn't she just deal with it then? That seemed like the more mature thing to do anyway. ....is what Isabelle would normally have said to herself. But that rational kind of thinking was not currently occupying her mind. Instead, she felt angry. She felt upset. She felt...felt.....This was all wrong. And Isabelle was going to correct it. Isabelle turned around, and started marching up the ramp toward the entrance. Just as she reached for the door handle, another girl - probably 'Anderson, Jasmine,' - had been pushing it open, and they bumped into each other gently. The exchanges of apologies between Isabelle and Jasmine had, however, caught the attention of Ms. Smith, who was now approaching them. 'Excellent, I'll have a minute alone to explain everything.' Isabelle thought. "What is the meaning of this Ms. Weber. Why are you not in your seat?" Smith asked, tersely. "Well, Ms. Smith, you see there has obviously been a mistake. No fault of yours of course. Administrative. But you see, I was called at the end of the list of Sophomores, and, well, you know who I am of course. And there was one other thing. I believe my measurements may have been mis-recorded. Again, no fault of - " Ms. Smith silenced Isabelle by merely lifting her hand. "You are correct about one thing only Ms. Weber. I know exactly who you are. There was no administrative mistake. I made this list myself. Are you saying I made a mistake Ms. Weber, that I cannot manage my list?" The question was obviously meant to be rhetorical, but Isabelle couldn't help herself. "Well, I mean I don't mean to be blunt, but there was a mista-" Ms. Smith didn't need to raise her hand a second time. Instead, she silenced Isabelle with such a terrifying glare that Isabelle simply trailed off the last few words. "I in fact, did not make a mistake. And I expect more out of mature young women who study ballet here. Perhaps you are not so mature. Now get back into your seat, AT ONCE, and do not make me repeat myself once more. Are. We. Clear?" Isabelle knew better than to talk back this time. She simply nodded, turned around, and moved down the auditorium, to sit with the other sophomore students. Isabelle sat down, intending to re-focus her mind, but instead just pouted, simmering over what just happened. 'It's not fair. Not fair at all. This is absurd. Whatever. I'll just perform earlier, and get out of her. Maybe they want me to mentor or something and are slipping seniors in with other students,' Isabelle thought to herself. Whatever reason Smith had, Isabelle knew she was wrong. Isabelle sat in her seat, stewing over what had happened, as the sophomore students started getting on stage one at a time. Isabelle tried to refocus herself, but she felt...just so angry. Instead of being the supportive classmate she was to her friends, and frankly to everyone in her program, Isabelle felt herself being very critical of each student's performance. 'They were just sophomores after all,' she tried reminding herself, 'but still, there are fairly disappointing.' Slowly but surely, performance after performance, it was becoming closer to her turn. The flow of students coming in had clearly stopped, as Isabelle was no longer hearing the door to the auditorium open and close. Just as "Slova, Katarina was called to go backstage, Isabelle heard a whisper in her ear "heard you decided to irk Smith on showcase day." Isabelle turned, and found her two friends kneeling beside her. "Ha...yah I guess so. Any idea why she placed me here though. Its so odd. And then there's another thing, my - " Dani cut her off "SHHH. Keep it down. This is just the order, don't stress about it." That didn't answer her question at all. "Iz. Just worry about you. Get up there and do your best," Lola added. Isabelle was beginning to feel better. Her friends really did know how to comfort her. "Just focus on your steps. Your routine. Your dance. You're an amazing dancer, and the school is about to be put on notice. Now get up there!" Mr. Johansan's assistant came up the aisle at that moment. "Thanks guys. I'll see you after.' Isabelle said, standing up. "Ms. Weber?" the assistant confirmed with her. Isabelle nodded. "Please head backstage." The last thing Isabelle saw before heading up the side stairs were who two friends, staring back at her; Lola, blowing her a kiss, and Dani, waving like a maniac. "I'm the luckist girl there is," Isabelle announced to herself. Saying it out loud made it feel even more real. ' Let's do it.' ********* Isabelle took center stage once Ms. Slova had wrapped her routine up. Other than a pretty inconsequential fall that she covered up well, Ms. Slova' routine was pretty solid for a sophomore, if not a little too basic. Isabelle had planned to offer substantially more. Isabelle was setting her feet to their starting position, when it happened. It being...well "it." There was no other word for it, because it had only happened once before. But, just like the other day in the kitchen, her venue began re-shaping itself before her. Her school's auditorium's stage replaced by a more elegant, treated warm redwood stage instead. The tapestry around her, once the stained red velvet she was accustomed to, replaced by beautiful, ornate, gold and bronze tapestries. Isabelle's eyes traced the frame around the stage, as the metamorphosis continued. The simple, black farms of the stage transformed into golden gilded masterpieces; the seats in front of her, once covered with a cheap fabric, transfigured into beautifully dyed leather seats; balcony boxes emerged from seemingly nowhere, tracing their way diagonally up the sides of the room. As Isabelle's eyes traced to the back of the room, two enormous mezzanine balconied slide out to hang over the auditorium. And everywhere, in every seat, sat audience members. Gone were her friends; gone were her professors; gone were the students and the few parents who had shown up. In their places, every seat was filled with strangers, each dressed more elegantly than the last. And in front of her - a conductor. Isabelle could feel the vibrations of bow on string, of hammer on string, the quaking of horns, and shaking of percussions as the orchestra warmed up below her. And as they did, one final detail emerged. The letter appeared, emblazoned on the front of the lower mezzanine balcony, as if only for her to see: "Opéra National de Paris" Isabelle looked down at herself - her own body, and outfit having transformed. She felt stronger, taller, lengthier. In place of her childish leotard, was instead a gorgeous modern white ballet dress, made out of a sheer white chiffon. It fell against her body....jeez, what a body it was... perfectly, accentuating her physical and beautiful ballet body. Her legs were covered by what felt like the softest white tights, emphasizing her long legs which felt like they were extending forever. The tights led down to the most gorgeous - wait. In fact they were the most gorgeous ballet slippers - but they had not changed. They were her ballet slippers. Isabelle looked back out toward the crowd. She could not believe this was happening. She was having some sort of breakdown, at the worst possible moment. "I mean this was cute and all when it happened while I was unloading the dishes, but not now' Isabelle thought. "I need to do something to snap out of this. I need to stop this. I need to - " But before she could do anything, the music below her started. 'Oh god. This is NOT my music...I do NOT have a routine for this..." Her body, betrayed her, and slowly - and elegantly - she lifted her first arm, flowing it to the music with the grace of a queen. Her head turned, as she was suddenly illuminated for the crowd. Isabelle couldn't control what happened from here - her mind was simply along for a ride that her body took off on. ... And my god. My. God. What a ride it was. Isabelle had never seen such incredible dancing. But she wasn't just seeing it. No. She was DOING it. She was the ballerina. But she couldn't believe her own eyes, her own body, as it soared through the air, extended itself into incredible positions, moved elegantly along with the most beautiful music her ears had ever heard. Fouettés. Pirouettes. Sauté. Isabelle's body hit every move. Isabelle was lost in one of her fantasies. In fact, it was one of her greatest ones ever. Except this time, it felt real. It wasn't her imagination....I mean, obviously it was. But also - it wasn't. "It all feels too real..." she thought, as she continued wowing the audience, continued wowing herself. She was not in the shower, playing some tape in her head. Instead, the world she had dreamed of was outside of her, and she was embracing the role of protagonist. Grand Adage. Grand Battements. Demi-pointe glides. Isabelle's core supported her through moves she could only dream of perfecting. Isabelle was bewildered. She was amazed. She was....she was incredible. And it was not just her. As she glanced out to the audience, her fans were awe-struck by what they were seeing. It was no surprise; Isabelle knew this performance was incredible by even the highest standards - not her school's standards, but by real professionals. For her, this performance was improbable - or more impossible - she could never pull this off in her wildest dreams. Yet here she was, doing exactly that. The feeling, however, came to a close. It felt as though it never would. But suddenly, Isabelle ended the routine, a surprise even to her having never actually performed it before. But what followed was appropriate; a resounding applause took over. The noise reverberated through the opera house; not a soul was left seated. A standing ovation, that appeared it would not end. Isabelle herself wanted to applaud, but she remained utterly out of control of her body. 'Not that I mind, if that is what happens' she thought, referring to her dance of course! The clapping echoed loudly, and carried on for far longer than she expected. But then it began to fade, and Isabelle seemingly regained control of her body. Her head shot up - just in time to see the world she fantasized of, the world she was coming to love, the world she....she never wanted to leave, begin to fade just like the applause. Isabelle peered below her, just as the stage began to dissolve under her feet, replaced by a far simpler, far more worn stage that Isabelle knew well. The beautiful drapery returned to the stained red velvet; the gilded frame, reshaped into a black square; the balconies disintegrated, the particles blowing away with a wind; the mezzanine balconies retreated from whence they came; the dyed leather seats replaced with soiled fabric. And the audience, last but not least, fell into the abyss from which they had risen. Isabelle was sweating, and it became clear to Isabelle that she had just performed something, though what for certain, she couldn't tell you. Her body ached in new places and old; her legs felt worn; her brow sweaty; her head twisted from apparently spinning and turning; everything, everything except her feet, which felt...amazing. 'How could it possibly be that I performed...when I wasn't even here. I don't remember anything...' Isabelle was genuinely frightened as to what may have happened. Starring out now, into the silence, Isabelle knew that all that was left was her classmates, her teachers, and some parents. Their faces, much like the audience from Paris, looked dumbfounded. 'Ohhhhhhhhhhh god........what. did. i. do....." Her terror returned. Her heart was racing. And though she could see the audiences faces, she couldn't discern a single face, couldn't identify anyone she knew. Not one. Not one person. That is, until she met the gaze of her friends; Dani and Lola locking eyes with her. They were looking at her, beaming with pride at their friend's performance. And at that moment, Isabelle calmed down. Her panic ceased. Her sweat cooled off. Her concerns all left her body and mind. In that moment, nothing else mattered; not that she had to dance with sophomores, not that Smith had messed up her measurements, and even not that she may have screwed up her whole routine. At that moment, her friends were proud of her, and she knew it. Nothing else mattered.

Your words are exceptionally kind. I am really grateful you are enjoying the story. I am trying to drop little hints and instances to refer back to as Isabelle...progresses. I am happy you are catching them. And though I am certain I, more than anyone, would love her to be in a pre-school recital, I don't think it'll happen overnight! Iz isn't quite there yet, but who knows! Seriously - I am so grateful for the hints/advice/suggestions here. This one in particular is spot on for something I have been DYING over. I have never written anything with dialogue and internal thoughts before, and the inconsistency throughout the chapters on my part in treating those dialogues really bothered me. I am working on correcting the past chapters piece by piece (and catching some silly typos while I am at it.) But this suggestion is SO helpful, and moving forward, I'll ensure to do it this way. Thank you so much! **To all those readers who are checking in, I want to thank you again for your support. I anticipate another chapter posted today (*possibly two - I missed writing about Iz yesterday). I am grateful for each and every person who has taken the time to read my story.**

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 10 Isabelle was typing away on her phone as fast as her little fingers could type. "...And then he totally asked me to come to the beach house, which can't happen until next summer you know?" Dani and Lola had been really excited for her after she had told them what happened. "Iz! That's amazing. And you know what that REALLY mean?! He wants to see you in a bathing suit! ;)" Leave it to Dani. Lola had been equally excited, if not more reserved in her response "Amazing! You should have a plan to approach him next week, maybe we can schedule a movie or something for a few of us to go to?" Isabelle thought that was a great idea "Ya! Good idea Lola." Jane had noticed her daughter was glued to her phone on the way home. She had been spying at her through her rear view mirror, trying to see how she had been doing after her relaxing day. Isabelle had told her she had a good day at the library, but it must have been a little more exciting than she was letting on, based on the smile on her daughter's face as she typed away on her phone. Jane was convinced she could hear a muffled squeal at one point. Upon their arrival at home, Jane reminded Isabelle she should get her things organized for tomorrow. "I know mom. It's not like I haven't done this before." Jane was glad she was taking responsibility, but felt the need to remind her "You haven't done this before Isabelle, so its a little more serious. Please go ahead and get your bag organized so we don't have to worry about it in the morning." Jane was probably sterner than she intended. Isabelle was going to respond, but thought better of it. "It's not worth it. But what on earth is she saying? Of course I've done this before." So when she walked through the front door and kicked off her sneakers, Isabelle headed straight to her room to do as she was told. "It will actually be easier to get this out of the way." she thought. Opting for a similar look to her performance the Friday prior, Isabelle went into her dresser and took out a paid of black tights to wear. "I'll put those over the leotard again," she concluded, "lengthening the look of some of the moves." Isabelle proceeded into her closet, and took out three options of black leotards, setting them on her bed. Isabelle stripped out of her clothes from the day, and proceeded to take the first leotard off of a hanger. She stepped into it..... And it was huge. It didn't fit at all. The extra fabric was showing everywhere; on her hips, on her shoulders, and it didn't rest snugly on her arms at all. "What on earth? I could have sworn I wore this EXACT leotard in the spring finale last year. Why is....is it huge on me?" She was perplexed, and quite frankly, a little concerned. "I really liked this one too....I thought I'd wear it.." Isabelle shook off her disappointment, turning instead to her second choice. She slipped the first leotard off, and tossed it over her shoulder, onto her desk chair. "Time for number two," she said, stepping into the second leotard, which, while not her favorite, was certainly more than serviceable. "In fact, I am pretty sure this was the one I wore when we performed Carmen over the summer for the summer program," she thought. She was feeling more confident now, having had such a good time in that performance. "And that was TOTALLY the one that all the programs came to, so maybe Avery was even there," she said feeling even better, "and I actually loved how I looked in that -" She was cut off, just as she was pulling the leotard over her shoulders, by her greatest fear. This one... This one.... This one didn't fit either. In fact, it fit WORSE than the last one did. This one was hanging too low, and was not fitting snug against her crotch. There was just...just so much fabric..."...How?" It especially wouldn't work at all with her tights being on top, it would just bunch up and bulge. Isabelle was in a fit of panic at this stage, nearly tearing her leotard as she was removing it. "Please....oh god...Please.....why why why why why," she panicked as she was stepping out of option 2. "Please let this not be happening." That time she spoke out loud, legitimate fear in her voice. She quickly stepped into leotard number three, and without hesitating, screamed. "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM" Jane had been downstairs unloading some of the groceries and other items she had picked up while she was out, listening to some music on the radio on the kitchen counter. She had noticed quite a bit of shuffling going on upstairs, but assumed it was nothing more than Isabelle raiding her closet for the perfect outfit. Then the shriek happened. Jane dropped the can of beans in her hands, and ran to the stairs to find out what was going on. "Sweetheart! Are you okay?!? What is going on." Isabelle had made her way to the stop of the stairs, and was obviously in distress, Jane noted. Her face was pale, and she was teary eyed. She was standing there in nothing but a...terrible fitting leotard to be honest, and was a mess. She looked like she had seen a ghost. "MoMM Nothngfirnfign and IwonTbeble toDnce and IdNTKnwWhatHppen MoMmmmmmmmm" Isabelle's words were completely jumbled, and she had now transitioned from teary, to crying. "Baby...slow down. What's the problem. We'll fix it! Just slow down and tell me. Deep. Breaths....There you go hunny!" Jane said, as Isabelle started slowing down her breathing. Isabelle proceeded to sit down on the stairs, and Jane walked up to her, and sat down with her. "Now tell me, what's the problem?" Isabelle had calmed down enough, she thought, to tell her mom the problem "Mom...none of my leotards are fitting. They're all huge on me, and I don't know how its possible. I wore these, like last week, and they fit." Jane listened, and tried to understand, but was skeptical. The leotard Isabelle was wearing now was obviously not right, but it couldn't be all of them. Isabelle had just purchased some new ones over the summer. "Oh well that isn't good at all. Why don't you show me and well see if maybe it was something else." "Something else?" Isabelle thought, "what the hell else could it be? They don't fit." Yet, in that moment, she didn't have the energy to talk back. Isabelle stood up, her mom standing up as well and rubbing her back, and they headed together into Isabelle's room. Isabelle, walking over to her bed, started picking up the other two that didn't fit, and explaining to her mom why they were wrong. Isabelle was distressed as she explained, and couldn't understand why on earth was happening. The tears continued to pour down her face. Jane, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile once Isabelle showed her the problem. This only irritated Isabelle more "Mom, this is a serious problem. Why are you smiling??" Jane took a beath, and looked her daughter in the eye, smile expanding. "Sweetheart, of course these don't fit." Jane was practically giggling now, as the solution was so obvious. Isabelle, not in on the "obviousness," of the situation, made a face toward her mom as though to continue and let her in on what was so funny. "These are Lola's leotard's that didn't fit her anymore. I ran into Mr. Hayes the other day at the library's book fair, when I was dropping off your tuition check. He mentioned that Lola had some leotards that were too small on here, and asked if we wanted them." Isabelle's face had changes from hysteria to utter confusion. Before she could chime in, her mom continued. "I figured you would eventually grow into them, and I hung them up in the back of your closet. Don't worry sweetie. You'll grow into them." .... ... What on earth was her mom on about? "Grow into them?' Why would she be growing into anything? And.....just WHAT? There was so much going on with this that she just completely didn't grasp. And yet, for some reason, the most useless question escaped her lips. "Since when do you talk to Lola's dad?" ... ..."Seriously Iz?" That's what you have to say about this situation? "Isabelle, do you really think I don't ever talk to your friends' parents? You've known Lola for years now, and she's been a good friend and not to mention a mentor. Of course I know her dad." Isabelle realized the question was silly. 'Obviously mom knows Mr. Hayes.' He was at her birthday parties, her graduations, her recitals, just like all the parents. But Isabelle also knew that her mom had been out for dinner with Mr. Hayes and Dani's parents too, if even infrequently. And of course, they had all been to Lola's mom's funeral when Isabelle was just a little kid. It was a stupid remark, but Isabelle had been distracted by other matters. Regardless of her stupidity, Isabelle was able, for some reason, to stop crying. None of this made sense of course. "I mean, I wore that one last week....." She said lifting it in her hand, "...didn't I?" She was beginning to doubt herself. But just as she was, her mom wrapped her up in a big hug. "Come sweetie, I have some clean leotards downstairs in the laundry room. I think there is even a black one." Her mom had a solution, and tears were not it. So Isabelle got herself under control, and followed her mom. Isabelle didn't really care what else her mom had said. It was sort of just completely irrelevant. All that mattered at this point was that she had something to wear for tomorrow. So, together with her mom, they headed downstairs, Isabelle's face a mess from obviously just crying, walking down in an oversized leotard. Isabelle was leaning her head into her mom the whole way down, exhausted from the ordeal. As they stepped together on the top stair heading to the basement, the creak in the stair snapped Isabelle back to her current dilemma, and she lifted her head up off her mom's chest. Jane just smiled. Sure enough, as her mom turned the light on in the laundry room, there were four or five leotards drying on a hanging rack. "I recognize those....I....that one used to be my favorite" she thought, identifying a white leotard, "and that one....I mean...it was baby blue. She hadn't worn anything like that in...." Isabelle couldn't help but think...yes.. "Mom, these are some of my old leotards. Why are you drying these out." Jane sighed. She had to manage the situation deftly. It would be a tough year for Isabelle obviously, with her closest friends moving on. And maybe this was all just a reaction to that. "I can't get her all worked up before tomorrow though," Jane concluded. "Nonsense sweetie, you wore this one last week. What do you mean, old? These are practically brand new!" Jane said, encouraging her daughter to be excited, "and this one here is perfect," she said lifting black one, "You try this one on and I'll go put these in your closest. I'll put the ones Lola gave us away for now somewhere else so you don't have to deal with the confusion." Before she could even respond, her mom leapt into action, sweeping up the white, blue, tan, and oh god - was that one purple? "Focus Isabelle," she reminded herself, "that can all wait." Isabelle held the black leotard her mom handed her in front of her. "It looked...well,...it looked a little small. But, more obviiously...it was kind of...juvenile?" thought Isabelle. In fact, holding it this close, Isabelle could see some subtle rhinestones that were coming down from the collar, something she would neve- "Well, something I thought I would never get...but it actually isn't that bad I guess. Isabelle took off her oversized leotard, placing it on the drying rack that once housed the leotards her mom took upstairs. "This will never work...It's going to be too small, and then I'm really going to be in trouble," she said, shifting the leotard up her legs and waist, "mom won't have a solution then, and we'll have to go out and get something, ughh god and all I wanted to do was - " .... As she slipped her arm into the last sleeve, something remarkable occurred to Isabelle. The leotard fit....perfectly. "How on earth...." She started to think to herself. "This is the strangest thing in the world." But it solved her problem. And right now, that was priority one. Isabelle started to make her way upstairs to her room. She needed to see how the tights and slippers fit with the leotard. "Maybe with the slippers, it will distract them from these little gems.." She thought. As Isabelle was ascending the staircase, she couldn't help but notice how well, in fact, the leotard was fitting her. It felt great, though she hated to admit it, and Isabelle actually had to hide a smile as she rounded the second staircase to her room. Once she walked in, she found her mom packing up some things from her dresser and her closet in to a bin. Jane turned to see her daughter, "Oh hunny! You look adorable! Put your tights on and lets see the whole outfit!" Isabelle balked for a minute, "what are you packing up mom?" Jane stopped for a moment, before answering, "Oh these were just the things that I unpacked from Mr. Hayes. I'll put them back once you put on a few more inches sweetie. Lola basically shot up a foot in the last two years, you may too!" Whatever, Isabelle thought. Her mom had clearly lost it. She went over to her dresser and took the tights she had set aside, and pulled them on. Isabelle was nervous as she was pulling them up that they would also be a little too big - and honestly, they were - but she was not going to point that out for her mom. Isabelle then went over to her bag, and pulled out the only thing that seemed to make her feel right today - her slippers - and put them one, tying the ribbons up each ankle. Isabelle turned to stare at herself in the mirror. Despite all the stress from tonight, this time she couldn't hide her smile. She was happy with how she looked. The leotard, while not ideal, was still....well I mean it was cute if she had to admit it. And it sort of added to her cute-girl look, she thought. Before she knew it, she found herself turning and checking herself out from various angles, her smile only growing. Jane, meanwhile, silently watched her daughter's mood change. "Isabelle is obviously stressed about her showcase. She should have realized the leotards she was trying weren't hers." Jane thought. "All done with though. She looks gorgeous, and happy - most importantly." Jane reminded herself. "Baby you look great! You're going to do so well tomorrow. I'm so proud of you!" Isabelle started feeling better about herself. Confident again.. Standing there, in her whole outfit, things started to feel right again. She lifted herself onto her toes, and extended a leg out to see how she looked from one more angle. Satisfied - and smiling - She lowered herself, turned back to her mom, and went to hug her, Jane bending down to receive the hug. Isabelle held her mom tight, she was thankful for her. Her mom had been so calm, and she a mess. "Thanks mom. I don't know what I would have done without you." Jane smiled. She loved it when Isabelle embraced her. "Not a problem sweetie. Now why don't you put your things in your bag. I'll take these and store them somewhere, and well have a quiet night before bed. Sound good?" Isabelle just pulled her mom in closer, and nodded against her neck. "Sounds perfect."

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 9 Tuesday morning came and went without much fanfare. Isabelle was glad to have relaxed with her mom the night before, cozy on the couch next to her. The popcorn had been particularly tasty, as well. Isabelle slept calmly that night, her tantrum forgotten. The rain from yesterday had started to dry under the morning sun. It was far more pleasant to wake up to the sunlight streaming into her room, rather than the beating of rain. Her body felt great, despite having worked out her routine quite hard the day before. "I'll need to take more of a rest day today," she thought. "Wednesday will be important." Isabelle made a point of heading straight to the kitchen after waking up, careful to wrap her pants a few times before taking a step. "Not risking slipping the day before the showcase." Isabelle had popped down the stairs, and immediately went to make her morning coffee. "Not going to let THAT problem happen again." As the coffee brewed, Isabelle headed to the front door to pick up the newspaper. She bent down, "ooooh..my bladder," Isabelle thought, "I really have to pee.....no. Later." Isabelle took the paper, and went back to the kitchen, enough coffee having brewed after a few minutes for her to pour a cup, and that was exactly what she did. Isabelle sat down at the counter, pulling a stool out, and popping on to it cross-legged, propping her butt up of off her legs. She navigated to the Sudoku puzzle in the newspaper, and pulled the single page out, starting to work on it as she sipped her coffee. After a few numbers, Isabelle started really struggling with the puzzle, deflecting her frustration "I'm just distracted because of the showcase," she concluded. She lifted her mug, pouring the last bits of coffee into her mouth, just as the urgency to pee was reaching its maxim. "Better hurry," she thought, hopping off of the stool and practically shimmying her way to the stairs, careful not to move one foot too far in front of the other, lest she risk peeing on the floor. Isabelle really did need to go. Fortunately, she made it upstairs to the bathroom in time to relieve herself, taking her time to let the recently consumed coffee to do its job. Seated, Isabelle tried to work on calming her nerves before her big day. It was all she could think about, and if she didn't find a more productive way to pass the time, she was worried she would lose it a bit. Her pee was still echoing in the toilet bowl "thank god I made it...,that would have been a mess," she laughed to herself. "That would be the day," mockingly dismissing the idea she could legitimately have an "accident." Isabelle continued to sit there until she had finished with her poop, wiping, flushing, and then going through her bathroom routine. "I'll just go to school, maybe read in the library and see if Dani or Lola show up" she concluded "Mom can get me back on her way from work." Her real motivation, of course, was to orchestrate another accidental run in with Avery. She hadn't decided how to proceed yet, but, she wanted to try and build up the courage to invite him to Jess's place on Saturday. Though not ideal, it was practically the only chance she would get alone with him before classes started up, and both of them would be far, far busier. Her heart raced at the mere thought. Jane woke up at her usual time, and started getting ready for her day. She would have a somewhat manageable day, she thought, and wasn't in any particular rush. Jane was not sure why, but she was still a little concerned about Isabelle. Isabelle had looked a lot better on her way up to bed, but her fit had stuck with Jane. "Its been YEARS since she's blown up like that," Jane thought to herself. "I'll have to tread carefully this week. She must be stressed, her first showcase and all." she concluded. Jane was happy that Isabelle had friends like Dani and Lola to help support her and guide her - they knew what she was going through, having been through it themselves already. Coming down the stairs, Jane was thrilled to hear that Isabelle wanted to spend the day productively at school, and even happier at the mention that she intended to find Lola and Dani at the library. Her daughter was dressed more casually, in simple leggings and a t-shirt, carrying another zip-up in her arm. Jane also noted that Isabelle's dance bag was at the front door. 'Not dancing today, are you?" Jane asked, as she sped her morning routine up, not wanting to give Isabelle the time to change her mind. "Nope. I Just brought it in case. Better to have your stuff than not. Jane nodded, wrapped up her morning, and got into the car with Isabelle, heading straight to Higgins with her. Jane pulled up in front, leaned in and kissed her daughter on the cheek "Love you, i'll be back at 3 today. I'm going to work from home tonight" and receiving a smile in return. Isabelle hopped out, and was through the front doors of Higgins in a jiffy. Jane headed to work. Isabelle found the main library quite quiet that morning. Other than a few students passing time before setting their schedules, the head librarian behind her desk, and a couple of student-volunteers (or detentionees) stocking shelves by index code, the room was practically empty. The school library had always been a place Isabelle enjoyed. It was grande; two floors, with these wide, old oak shelves lining both floors. The second story ran just the permitter of the library, leaving a wide open space with French chandeliers dropped down, the original candlestick holders retrofitted for lightbulbs. The library had some historical significance that Isabelle had learned about on her Freshman tour around the school, but had since long forgotten. The best part of the library was, in Isabelle's humble opinion, it was rarely used to borrow books. Most Higgins students could purchase whatever they wanted, and so the idea of borrowing a used copy of, well, anything, was beyond their understanding. But Isabelle, being the avid reader she was, took full advantage. A new hardback could run anywhere from 20 to 30 dollars. Here, she had tons of books at her disposal - for free. And unless another student requested a book you had out, there was no deadline to return it. The best part, Isabelle reminded herself, was that if the library did not have a book in stock, or a new release was coming out, you could put in a request for the book to be ordered. Since so few students requested books, Isabelle's requests were always approved. In fact today, she was particularly excited because she had received a notice in her school e-mail inbox that her most recent request had been fulfilled, and was available to borrow. "A welcome distraction," she thought. Isabelle approached the librarian's desk, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone she knew was around. While Isabelle was excited for her book, she was also in no hurry to share with anyone else what she was reading. "The Emerald Chronicles" were not exactly the types of books 18 year old adults read. They were considered......juvenile at best. But Isabelle had started the series when she was younger, "I'm almost just reading it ironically now," she told herself. But she knew that wasn't true. Isabelle even knew a tv series had been developed based on the show. It wouldn't be long before it was out. 'Not that I'll watch it.' Content that no one around knew her, Isabelle approached the desk. "Good morning Mr. Barns," Isabelle started - seeing that one of her favorite teachers in the school had been focused intensely on something else. "Ah, Isabelle. I was wondering when you would show up after I sent the notice out." Isabelle was probably one of only a handful of students that Mr. Barns actually knew by name. "I even kept it back here, expecting that you might come collect it," he said with a wink. As Mr. Barns turned and headed into the stacks behind him, Isabelle was unsure if Mr. Barns was complicit in her efforts to conceal her shame, or if he was just being friendly. Either way, she was already blushing, and started checking around her to confirm she hadn't missed someone she might know at the library. Satisfied - for the second time - she turned back to the table to see Mr. Barns right in front of her. "Woah!" Isabelle almost shouted. "Spooked you did I?" Mr. Barns asked playfully. "I certainly hope not. Well, here it is, fresh off the press. 'Emerald Chronicles: The Everlasting Night.' I hope you enjoy it!" As soon as Mr. Barns had released it, Isabelle had tucked it under her arm, and covering it with her zip-up, preventing anyone else from seeing. That had not gone unnoticed by Barns. "Thank you Mr. Barns. I'll er...drop it off in the drop box when I'm done," Isabelle concluded. "You can always drop it off with me instead," Mr. Barns noted, "I always like to know what our young readers are enjoying. You should be proud you're such an active reader!" Young readers? She was practically the oldest student in the school. But a student nonetheless. "Okay....Will do if the library is open when I return it!" Why did Isabelle commit herself to that? Isabelle turned, and walked to the spiral staircase at the near wall. She headed up the stairs, turned along the short side of the library, and headed to the opposite corner. Isabelle walked through the first stack of books, made a left, and then seated herself at one of the small individual carrels. This desk was always a favorite of hers, located in one of the most infrequently used sections of the library. In fact, Isabelle was not even sure what section this was catered to, having never once seen another student in this area. Isabelle sat down, revealing her guilty pleasure from underneath her arm, and placing it on her carrel. Isabelle re-directed her attention to her ballet bag, opening it up. "I'm not dancing today," she said, "but there is no reason I can't continue working my feet into the slippers." In fact, there was no good reason to do it. The slippers, Isabelle knew, were perfect. Working them in further would do nothing. But, Isabelle wanted to wear the slippers - that was the real reason she had brought the bag. Isabelle took them out, resting them on the desk. Isabelle kicked off her sneakers, revealing beige tight-like sockettes she was wearing underneath. Isabelle slid her sneakers into her bag, zipped it up, and slid it under her carrel. Isabelle picked up the slippers - the warmth of their touch soothing her instantly, and one at a time, slipped them on each foot, letting out a sigh of satisfaction "Ahhhhhhh......That feels.......yes." Isabelle stretched her legs out underneath the desk, turning her toes up and extending the stretch in her calf, before dropping her slippers to the floor. "Time to do some damage," she thought, opening to the first page of the book, "McCallister suggested we'd finally get answers to the time lapse theory, and some more insight into the missing mystical goblet." Sally McCallister - the author of the book - had recently released a podcast where Isabelle had learned this. Slowly but surely, Isabelle lost herself in the imaginative and seductive world of the Emerald Kingdoms. It took everything in her control to not audibly gasp at the revelation of the goblin tunnel underneath Ruby Red Castle, or shriek at the revelation that Princess Henrietta had not in fact perished in the wolf attack in the Great Plains of Buttermilk halfway through the second book. Isabelle had always liked the Princess Henrietta character. Page by page, chapter by chapter, Isabelle fell more and more into a world she was ashamed of, but truthfully loved. She had planned on eating lunch in the cafeteria, but instead, resorted to eating the granola bars she had packed in her bag, anticipating that she might be...too distracted for lunch. Isabelle kept telling herself "just one more chapter, and then you need to check your phone," but one chapter turned to two, and two turned to four. Isabelle was about halfway through the book when her heart stopped. "Isabelle?" a voice asked, inquisitively. "Please. Please let this be a practical joke. Please do not tell me that what I think is happening, is actually happening." Isabelle was too scared to confront the reality, keeping her eyes down on book. "Isabelle?" the voice repeated, "What are you doing here?" There was no avoiding this now. The voice, of course, belonged to Avery. "Who else would find me in this situation, BUT him. Offffffff course." She said to herself. "You need to say something, or even just look at him, you dummy. You look insane." Isabelle, using every fiber of her being, turned her head to her left, to see Avery standing over her. He looked spectacular, his arms bulging out of his collared shirt. He actually looked trimmer than last year. "He must be working out...how did I not notice that yesterday, "Isabelle thought, longingly. "Hey Avery.....What are YOU doing back here?" she asked, probably in more of an accusing tone that she had intended. As she did, she started sliding her book to her lap, hoping he hadn't seen what it was. "I'm picking up some books...and your desk chair is kind of in the way," he responded with a smile. He always seemed to calm and in control. "Oh! Sorry," Isabelle responded, nearly jumping out of the way. "Thanks," Avery responded, tracing his eyes across the books, seemingly looking for one in particular. "Smooth Iz....very smooth," she thought. Just when she thought she was out of the fire, Avery continued. "That wouldn't have happened to be that new Emerald Magic book you were reading, was it?" ... ... "Why......WHY ALL THE TIME ME?!?!" Isabelle's inner monologue was bursting. "Wait. Don't panic. It could be worse. He knows what it is. Maybe, just maybe - " She was cut off, as Avery just had to continue "My little sister loves those books. She wouldn't shut up about how my mom needed to take her to the book store this morning to get it. She'd be jealous that you're already halfway through by the looks of it." ... ... "WHHHHHHYYYYYY?!?!" This was going to be here absolute demise. Why did this boy always have to see her at her worst?!? "And yes Iz," inner voice continued, "he did say LITTLE sister. How had he even known she was halfway through - he was starring at a bookshelf." Isabelle realized she had barely spoken at all yet. She needed to turn this around. "Ummm haha yah it is. I was...uh...I used to read these when I was younger. I was bored and just thought I'd see how awful it was." Isabelle was actually content with that answer, but Avery's response was strange. "Oh cool. You're luckier than my sister than. Mom only let her start reading the series at the start of the summer, used to say it wasn't age appropriate." AH-HA. "Not all that bad then, Iz. He at the very least thinks the book has some level of maturity requirement." Isabelle had never met Avery's mom, but already loved her. "Time to change the topic," she thought. "What are you getting here. I don't often see people come back here," Isabelle asked, just as Avery pulled his book off the shelf. "Mr. Barns has been helping me locate some composite books collecting old English poetry, or should I say 'Ye Olde English poetry.' I..err..sort of enjoy reading it as a hobby." He concluded, as though it was something to be embarrassed about. "Seriously? The guy reads poetry too? And here I am reading about the Ruby Red Castle....though...I can't wait to find out what's really in the North Tower.....STOP." Isabelle snapped out of her fantasy world, and back to her fantasy in the real world. She now knew why no one came to this section - it was for poets! Old English Poets! Isabelle's mind was returning to her thoughts from earlier in the day, her friends encouraging her to 'put herself out there.' She needed to do this. Needed to do it now. "Now or never," she thought, feeling that strange warmth from her slippers, filling her with a sense of confidence. And just then, just as Avery was starting to excuse himself; "So look, I'm off, but you'll have to let me know how the rest of your book was when you're done. See ya" "Oh god. Back to the book. Now or never Iz. DO IT." ... Just as Avery turned to leave, Isabelle blurted out, far too loud: "DOYUWNTTACMMEOVRONSATRDYIMBBYSITNGBTYOUCNCOMURALLWD" ......."What the hell was that Iz?!?!" Her request hadn't even made sense. Avery turned back, chuckling. "Sorry...I don't think I caught that. What did you just shout?" he asked, smiling as if to ease the tension. "Oh god.......this couldn't be worse." Isabelle's heart was racing. She was sweating out of palms, down her neck, and just about everywhere else. Her feet, lying comfortably in her slippers, were bouncing off of the ground, unable to stay still. But there was no avoiding it now. Isabelle took a deep breath, and tried one more time. "Do you want...to come over to a family's house....noy my family, I mean my house...See I babysit for a family...and I'm there on Saturday....this Saturday...I mean I am there all the time...well not all the time...What I mean is that I babysit for them lots....and I wanted to know if you wanted to come and hang out......the kids go to sleep, and I'm always bored, you see.....and you said you wanted to hang out or whatever.....and the family knows...they tell me all the time to have" she thought carefully to not just use the word 'friend' there "...people over...So....do you want to....you know...come hang out." The last part came out as just a whisper. Isabelle was starring at her slippers, unable to muster the courage to look Avery in the eye when he denied her. "Oh...Iz..." Here it came - "the blow I can't handle...but I knew he would say no....what was I thinking.." Isabelle was resigning herself, just as Avery continued "I would have loved to, if I'm allowed that is, but my family spends the last weekend before school at our beach house. Sort of a tradition, you see?" "That wasn't a no. In fact, it was practically a yes. It was a YES. It was a 'but for', like, 'but for my stupid rich family and our beach house, I would have come.'" Isabelle looked up, meeting Avery's eyes. She could see he was genuinely disappointed. "Even better! He not only wanted to say yes, but he's bummed about it!" Avery continued "I really am sorry. But we can hang another time for sure once school starts. We can hang at yours, or at mine. You can meet my sister too," he suggested. Isabelle was hoping it was merely a kindness since he brought her up earlier. "Sure! Not a problem. Have fun this weekend at the beach!" Isabelle was putting on her most courageous smile. In actuality, it was not that hard. Her crush WANTED to see her. This was a win. "I'll have to tell the girls!" Isabelle was bursting inside. "Sounds good," Avery said, "And ya, it's usually the last weekend we go up. Maybe one day you can come see the place" ... "Do my ears deceive me, or did Avery practically make plans with me for NEXT SUMMER?!?!?" With a big smile on her face, and heart finally settling to a normal rhythm, Isabelle simply said "I'd like that." Avery once more excused himself, and headed off. With all of the excitement of the day, Isabelle had lost track of time. She turned to see the time on the clock face of the wall, which was just cutoff but the bookshelf. She popped on pointe on her slippers to clear the obstacle - "I knew there was a good reason to wear these today," and saw it was nearly 3 PM. "Mom will be here at 3:30. Better pack up." With that, Isabelle swapped her slippers for her sneakers, packing them up in her ballet bag. She grabbed her sweater, sure to wrap her book up in it, and avoid anymore...problems. Isabelle walked out of the stacks, back along the back wall of the library, down the spiral stairs, and toward the library. On her way out, she saw Avery with a friend by a central table in the lower reading room, high-fiving him "Maybe it's about me?" Isabelle thought. With that in mind, she passed close enough to the table on her way to the exit, intent on eavesdropping... .... But to no success. there was some nonsense about sports or something, and maybe food? Other than that, the only words she could hear were "beach," 'sophomore," and what sounded like "haby" or "paby" or something, she couldn't pick up on anything else. Avery was probably on about something else. And the last thing she needed was to be caught eavesdropping after things had gone so well. Isabelle made her way out to the front of the school, identifying her mom's car immediately. "I hope she wasn't waiting long." Isabelle jogged toward the car, seemingly out of respect, and opened the front seat to get in. "Oh sweetie, I have all sorts of groceries and stuff up here, just hop in the back. Shrugging. Isabelle closed the door, and opened the rear car door, sliding into the seat behind the front passenger seat. "I don't mind mom. It makes me feel like I am being chauffeured," She joked, "Now snap snap Butler Mom, to the House!" Isabelle exclaimed. She had to get ready for tomorrow.

I really enjoy the concept of the story. I'll be sure to check in on it for updates. Great work!

Thank you for the feedback. I really appreciate it. The tighter shoes was actually something I added in post-edits, and reflecting on it, didn't love. I edited that portion out. I had intended on using it later, but reflecting on it, not something I want to include. As for the rest of your comments, well, those will be addressed shortly. I promise ?. I had intended to post another chapter tonight, but looks like it might not be until Saturday. If I get lucky, maybe tomorrow.

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 8 "Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffft." Dani couldn't stop herself. She had been sitting next to Isabelle as Isabelle was recounting the important events of the day, namely, her chance run in with Avery. Dani had quite literally spat her soda out of her mouth, across the lunch table, half of it landing on the table, the rest making its way on to the empty seat across from her. The girls at the table one over from them all turned around and just stared at Dani's, well, sophisticated reaction to hearing a story. At this point, beat red was insufficient to describe the crimson color of Isabelle's face. It was red planet, Mars surface, red-iris flower, red, red, red. Lola, likewise, was sitting across from her, nearly falling out of the bench laughing, as Isabelle recounted her ordeal earlier that day with her friends. Isabelle crossed her arms on the table, and buried her face. Isabelle needed to tell her friends - they shared everything. That didn't mean she hadn't withheld some details, particularly that her fatally time fart was indicating a much larger problem she had dealt with. Instead, she portrayed the troubling toot as an isolated incident, possibly related to a stomach cramp that had never existed. Still, the story was shameful, and her friends were enjoying every damn second of it. "So. To confirm. There you are. He picks you up, gallantly we might add" Dani motioned toward her, not that Isabelle saw. Her head was still buried. Dani continued "you stand there. You don't say a word. and just as he walks by you. Just seconds before you're in the clear," Dani was building up to the crescendo - but Lola beat her there "PRRRRRRRT" Lola made the noise, likely pressing her hand to her mouth. More laughter. More shame. Isabelle wanted to melt away. Isabelle was sick of having her nose pressed against the cafeteria table. After leaving class this morning, she had thrown her sweatpants back on over her tights, but left her ballet slippers on and her zip-up off. It wasn't uncommon for the dancers to walk around in their tights and leotards, especially when there were no classes during the summer, but the rain had made it rather cold in the school, and her legs were shivering. She was happy she had worn a leotard with sleeves. Isabelle had also managed to reserve some time in the small ballet studio to practice her performance for the showcase at 2 PM, so there was no good reason to change out of her slippers. Plus, they felt good on her feet, more comfortable than her sneakers. More comfortable than any shoe or slipper she had, in fact. Isabelle recognized that she would have to face this embarrassment - at least in front of her friends. "Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!! It was horrible guys... I still have no idea if he heard." she said, inviting her friends to reassure her that he clearly had not. "He had pressed the lever for the door, like, I'm pretty sure at the same time." She said, propping herself up on one leg she tucked beneath her butt, "And right after that he said he wanted to see me -" Lola cut her off, "yes, we'll get to the part where he wanted to see you in a bit. But there is NO WAY he didn't hear,: she said, still smiling, and holding back laughter, "especially the way you described it. That sounds like it was no lady fart. It sounds like it was LOUD." Dani was choking on her own laughter, and Lola continued, big smile on her face "It is settled then - you'll go down as the 'first floor farter'" Isabelle went from red, to pale. Dani appeared to really like that name, and Iz could see it would not be the last time she heard it. Dani could not stop giggling. "Sorry Iz," she muffled through her laughter. "He heard...there is no way he didn't." Isabelle dropped her head back to the table, just as Lola and Dani went back to laughing. "I can't believe THAT was why you were late. Lewis was so pissed Dani, you should have seen her face." Lola added. Isabelle's shame increased at the last remark, her tale not being precisely the reason she was late. "Dani and Lola don't need to hear that part though." Dani hadn't joined the morning optional sessions, opting instead to get her class schedule organized for the year. "Well, maybe he didn't mind?" suggested Dani, smiling. Now they were just toying with her, Isabelle knew. "This should be good." Isabelle picked her head up, staring at her friend next to her on the bench, with a confounded look on her face. "How. Could you think. He didn't mind" Isabelle demanded, pausing between each part of the sentence. "Who knows Iz," Lola chimed in, "maybe he's into girls who fart around him....maybe, just maybe," Lola leaned forward toward Iz, pretending to be Avery in this situation, "maybe...if one day you're kissing him, he'll lean in, and whisper in your ear 'Oh Iz baby, Iz....just fart for me baby.'" This time, it was Dani who DID fall backward off the bench laughing. Lola could barely get the last words out of her mouth before she too burst out laughing. "Enough was enough" thought Isabelle, I must defend myself! Isabelle decided her best defense in that moment picking up a carrot stick and throwing it playfully at Lola. "Okay. Ha ha. I get it. But more important, he said he wanted to see me again soon. What should I do?" Isabelle inquired of her friends. After a few more minutes - more than Isabelle had appreciated - Lola and Dani had calmed down, at least enough to have a serious-ish conversation about her dilemma. Dani and Lola each had their own advice about her next steps, but Isabelle wasn't sure. Unlike her friends, she had never really had a boyfriend before. She had barely even ki -"No, not the time to think about that" she confided to herself. "Look Iz," Dani stated unequivocally, "if you really want to make this happen, you need to just make it happen. Don't wait for him to find you. Go find him later this afternoon or something, and just spend some time with him." The advice was sound, and Lola nodded. "Or better yet, invite him over Saturday night or something before classes start next week," Lola added. Her friends were probably right, she concluded, but there was a wrinkle. "I can't see him before the weekend. We have our showcases Wednesday, and I still need to come back after to set my class schedule." That made sense to her friends, but the next part seemed like an excuse. "And I made plans to babysit again next Saturday for the same family, so I can't see him this weekend either....oh well." Her friends shared her disappointment, but weren't convinced. Dani, had a solution "So just invite him over to you job. You said that those kids go to bed early anyway, and that you're alone bored the whole time. He can come by after their asleep!" Isabelle pondered the idea. It might work. Jess always told her she could invite friends to come over while she sat the kids. And technically, Avery was currently just a friend. "Not exactly romantic - I'm watching a baby and a toddler who is struggling to potty train. And my mom would KILL me if she found out I had a boy over there." That part was in fact true, and Isabelle valued having her mom's trust. "But I'll think about it." Isabelle tapped her feet together, bounced them, and continued stretching her slippers out on pointe. She obviously had a lot to think about with the Avery situation, but for now, she needed to get to the studio for her afternoon rehearsal before she lost the room at 3 PM. She looked up and across the cafeteria at the clock, spotting it was 1:34. "I'm heading to the studio. I'll see you guys later," Isabelle said excusing herself. After this morning's incident - not the Avery one...the other one - Isabelle was feeling a little queasy, and had ulterior motives for her exit. She wasn't feeling ill, she was just feeling...off, or unsure. "Better safe than sorry." She picked up her bag, heading out the cafeteria doors, and took a complex, winding route to a rarely used stairwell concealed near a side hallway. She opened the door into the staircase, and headed up two floors, tapping her slippers up each stair. "Just playing" she thought. It was fun to bounce up the stairs. Isabelle exited the stairwell on the second floor, made another turn, then another, and arrived at her destination. The women's bathroom in the media wing was her personal favorite. It was possibly the furthest from the dance studios, classrooms, and some of the visual arts rooms. In fact, the media room was rarely used. The only time it was used was when their choreographers wanted to review practice performances the dancers did before they performed for audiences. Isabelle had only found the room when she got lost after one such tape review in her freshman year, accidentally making a wrong turn on her way to her afternoon history class. Isabelle pushed the door open, and went to the second to last of four stalls - her preferred seat - and smiled when she saw the seat was still up. "No one has used this since it was cleaned" she thought. Without the urgency from earlier, Isabelle slowly removed her sweats, and placed them directly in her bag. "Those will need to go straight to the wash at home...they were on the bathroom floor," she reminded herself. Isabelle proceeded to slip her leotard off of each arm, slide it down, and pulled it down to her ankles. She then pulled the tights down, sat down on the toilet, and almost immediately, started peeing. As she sat there, she considered her friends' idea that she should invite Avery to the Williams house this weekend. "How would I even go about doing that," she asked herself. "I'd have to wait until Becky fell asleep. But if she keeps having....problems, she might come downstairs and find her with a stranger. She would certainly tell her mom." Isabelle grabbed some toilet paper, "and then Jess might mention something to my mom.....which would be less than ideal. I could....I could put another monitor in Becky's room, and listen to see if she gets up, and keep Avery in the basement.." Isabelle threw the toilet paper into the toilet, and flushed the toilet by twisting and pulling the lever down. "But Jess and John could come home at any time, and Jess would find out anyway in that case. Plus," she thought standing up, "he might say no. Which would be the worst possibility, obviously." Isabelle started pulling her tights up, followed by her leotard. As she slipped the sleaves over her arms, she noticed something odd. "Wha....why doesn't this fit...where did all this fabric come from..." It was curious indeed, this being one of her leotards from last year, that it would be big. "It must have stretched out in the wash or something," she concluded, "but I can't wear this for the showcase. It'll bunch, and look off. They dock points for the simplest things..." She remembered last year when poor Monica had been chastised for wearing the wrong shade of "off-white." Isabelle grabbed her bag, and unlocked the stall door, and headed to wash her hands. All finished in the bathroom, Isabelle wound her way through the various hallways in Higgins, masterfully working her way back to the small ballet studio. "Back to work" she instructed herself. "Time to nail this routine down." Isabelle pushed the studio door open, flicked the lights on, and set her music up. She was approaching this rehearsal with a renewed confidence. She moved toward the center of the studio, having put a delay in her music so she could set up, looked up, and saw her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes immediately diverted from her point of focus, and to her slippers - her special ballet slippers. Her mom's gift. Her most prized possession. For a moment, just a moment while looking at them, Isabelle was filled with an absolute sensation of joy, of warmth, of confidence. Confidence that she could do anything. Confidence that....that the world was at her fingertips. *SNAP* Isabelle's attention shifted to the music playing, and away from her daydream. "Shit. Late off the start" she muttered, jumping into her routine despite the slight delay. "Can't get distracted like that Wednesday...at least there no mirror on stage," she thought, dropping into her first plie. "Focus....Let's go." ****** Isabelle was glad to be home. She was exhausted from her day's events - both mentally and physically. "I'll need to take it easier tomorrow," she reminded herself. "I can't be tired for the showcase on Wednesday." she rolled over on the floor of her bedroom, just finishing her stretches, and catching her breath. Her afternoon had been productive, and she was confident she had her routine down pat. At first, Isabelle had been concerned about her timings, and if she would translate it well into a good performance. In the end, between her hard work, and the confidence...from her slippers... Isabelle was really pleased with her work. Isabelle left the ballet studio at 2:55, early enough so the next group/person could get in on time, and intended to go to the locker rooms to shower. But she had seen that her mom had texted her that she was leaving work early, and rather than inconvenience her to come pick her up later, Isabelle asked her to come then "Perfect timing mom. If you don't mind, can you swing by Higgins and get me now instead of later?" She received a smiley emoji in return, and so headed down to the front door to wait for her mom. 20 minutes later, Isabelle spotted her mom's car from inside the school doors, opened them up, and jogged out to the car in an effort to avoid the rain. She had been glad to have put her slippers back in her bag, but at the same time, missed them on her feet. She hopped into the front seat of the car, having to use a little more effort after her long day to lift herself up into the seat. "Why off early today mom?" she'd asked her mom, as she drove through the puddles on the road. "Oh nothing special. Robert came by my cubical and thanked me for all the extra time I had put in the last few weekends. He mentioned it hadn't gone unnoticed, and that I could take off early today. So I did!" Isabelle reflected on the conversation, as she wrapped up her last calf stretch, pulling the elastic band from around her left slipper back to the ground. She wasn't sure why she did, but she had put her slippers back on when she got home for her stretching routine. "No reason not to," she thought, as she tied the ribbons up her ankles. Back to her mom though - she was happy for her. She really did work hard, though what she did exactly, Isabelle never understood. "Data.....entry or something," she had tried to explain to Lola, "but they use the numbers to help with something in the...well another department in the company. But its important because without the analysis, they can't like....can't do the stuff they need to do." ... Yup. That about explained it. Isabelle proceeded to strip out of her sweaty ballet clothes, tossing them into her hamper. She placed her slippers back into their box, and moved toward her closet to put them on the high shelf. She stood there for a minute, looking back and forth from the box to the shelf, ultimately deciding, "I don't wanna put them way up there...".. Huh? Why not...."..that's where I keep my slippers though..." she thought. She reached up to put them away, but for some reason, she couldn't. Not because there was no room, but because....because she couldn't reach at all. "What the hell....there must be something blocking their way," she concluded. "I'm getting in the shower, I'm not dealing with this now." Isabelle instead laid the box on top of her desk, "easier to grab them tomorrow anyway" she concluded. Isabelle jaunted from her bedroom toward the bathroom - naked as the day she was born - hoping her mom wouldn't spot her. She didn't like Isabelle running around naked, even just to the bathroom. Said it was a "bad habit." Safely in the bathroom, Isabelle started running the shower, and returned to the toilet to do her business. Once done, she flushed, and pushed the shower curtain aside to the welcome steam of her shower-tub, excited to get in. Isabelle climbed into the shower, and within seconds, was playing out fantasies in her mind. Fantasies of perfecting her showcase on Wednesday. Fantasies of getting a leading role in the fall, or even the spring show. Fantasies of offers to join companies, both foreign and domestic. Fantasies of her friends coming to see her perform, her mom in the best seat in the house, her -- "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKK" Out of nowhere, her warm, relaxing, steamy shower, went ice cold. Her body, just seconds ago unwinding and de-tensing in the warm mist of her fantasies, had been so rudely interrupted. She bad been shocked back to reality, whether she liked it or not. "MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM-UHHHHHH" She shouted once more. "MOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! THE WATERRRRR." Isabelle quickly shut the water off, and wrapped herself in her towel. This was not going how she had planned. She opened the door to the bathroom, and attempted to garner her mother's attention once more. "MOM! THE WATER IS FRICKIN FREEZING. WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!?" She shouted down the stairs. Her Mom had a bit of a delay responding, but Isabelle thought she could hear her turn on the kitchen tap. "Oh Sweetie, it seems the hot water heater must be on the frtiz again! I'll call David right now and see when he can get it fixed." David, their landlord, was a nice oaf of a man, and really was a good landlord. But Isabelle knew one thing for certain - the problem was not going to be fixed tonight. Isabelle was not sure what was coming over her. It was...anger...she was frustrated. "I earned a hot shower," she told herself. "This simply isn't fair. It. Is. Not. Fair." ... "Of course it wasn't fair, but these things happen" she reminded herself. "No reason to be angry. Get over yourself..." ... Or at least that's what she normally would have convinced herself of. Instead, Isabelle stomped her way out of the bathroom, screaming to no one in particular "This is RIDICULOUS. I worked HARD today, I danced ALL DAY, I. Want. A. Hot. SHOWER!" Isabelle practically shouted the last word, and threw herself onto her bed with the last syllable, kicking her legs, banging her balled up fists into the bed, and screaming into her mattress, the sound muffled by her big comfy comforter. Downstairs, Jane could hear her daughter's complaints, stomping, culminating in what sounded like Isabelle smashing a punching bag they did not own. "I should check on her,' she told herself. Jane headed up the stairs, turned right at the top of the staircase, and made her way into Isabelle's ajar bedroom door. This was odd behavior from her daughter. She never behaved like this. "I mean, I understand she is frustrated...but this? This isn't like her" Jane was perplexed. "Sweetie...What's going on? I am sorry about the water, but is something else going on." She could hear her daughter sniffling into her bed. Isabelle had apparently exhausted herself from kicking and punching, and now, was laying still, crying into her bed. Maybe she had just had a bad day... maybe something happened...but she didn't say anything in the car," Jane reminded herself, "My Izzy would have said something to me..." At least Jane hoped she would have. Isabelle wanted to answer her mom. She really did. But what was there to say? Isabelle literally had no idea what she had just done. Something had overtaken her, taken control of her entirely, and she barely remembered what she had done in that moment. "Well, First I was shouting," she thought, "...then something...I had stomped...maybe? Yah...I was stomping around...and then...." why did she get on her bed all wet in her towel? "And what was I fighting? Why was I kicking and punching?" And now, she was...she was. She was crying. crying into her bed - she couldn't even admit these parts to herself with her internal voice. But it was obvious what had happened. "In sum, Iz, why the hell did you just throw a temper tantrum?" she asked herself, seemingly regaining some self-control. Isabelle picked her head up, and sat up. "Mom, I'm sorry. I don't...I don't know what happened." she mustered. "I think I must just be stressed about the showcase on Wednesday," Isabelle deduced. "I'm not sure why, I was rehearsing today and everything was going well. I think..." she swallowed, "I think its just been a long few days, and I haven't been sleeping well. I'm sorry for shouting." At the very least, the explanation was plausible, Isabelle concluded. And her mom seemed to buy it. Jane had, in fact, bought it. She had let her daughter explain herself, and just smiled in response. "It's okay sweetie. It happens. For what its worth, I would hate for the shower to go cold on me. So I get it," she empathized, with a playful wink. "Why don't you dry off and put on some PJS, and well have some popcorn and watch that show you were telling me about...something with ballerinas, right?" The idea sounded welcoming. Isabelle nodded, "Okay mom. That sounds nice. Its a pretty horrible show, but also, I think I love it." Jane laughed. It didn't quite make sense to her, but if it made Isabelle happy, that was all that mattered. "I'll go make the popcorn," Jane said soothingly, "you just meet me downstairs." Isabelle nodded, and picked herself up. As her mom left the room, and close the door, Isabelle used the towel to dry herself off properly. Her comforter was a little wet, which annoyed her, but hopefully it would dry off by the time she came up to go to sleep. Isabelle took a pair of panties and a sleeping shirt from her dressed, and went to the bathroom to hang her towel. She slipped the oversized shirt on over her head, and proceeded to wrap her hair up in a "hair towel" so it could dry. She slipped her panties up her legs, and headed back to her room to fetch a pair of warm, flannel pants. The night was still cool from the rain, and she wanted to feel warm and comforter. She grabbed a pair of green and white flannel pants from the top of the bottom dresser drawer, bent over, and pulled them up. 'To the basement," she told herself. "Woah, Woah, WOAH," Isabelle had nearly completely wiped out when she tried to take a step. She had nearly slipped, and fallen right on her feet, but luckily caught herself by throwing a hand up on her dresser. Isabelle peered down, wondering what she had slipped on, when she realized it was her flannel pants. The pants were so long, the legs of them hung almost completely over her feet. "That was silly of me" she thought, "I could have killed myself on the stairs or something. Isabelle rolled the pants up on her waist once, twice, "seriously? three rolls? who the hell did these used to belong to?" she thought, before her feet were finally free from the pant legs. Isabelle, now convinced her pants were at a safe length, and her nose picking up the scent of buttered popcorn, headed gleefully down the stairs to watch some terrible - yet excellent - TV with her mom. Maybe this is just what she needed to relax.

Isabelle is a big girl! I don't know where you are getting these ideas. Thank you for your continued support.

It seems my story has now been read over 1,000 times, something I never expected when I started. I don't know who you all are, and there is no way I could possibly address you all individually. But from the bottom of my heart, I am truly thankful for your support. The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 7 The rest of Isabelle's weekend passed without incident. Eric and Becky had slept soundly the rest of the night. Isabelle herself had dozed off in front of television in the basement by the time Jess and John arrived back home. Isabelle informed Jess of the events of the night - the most concerning part being that Becky had lied to Isabelle. Jess was obviously disappointed, remarking that if Becky continued like this, she would have to go back to diapers at night again. Isabelle offered the only words of comfort she could "She'll get through it. I sit for loads of kids her age who aren't as good as her." Jess had smiled, paid Isabelle handsomely for her time, and thanked her again. Isabelle returned home Saturday night and went straight to her room. She took her ballet slippers out of her bag, and placed them on the top shelf of her cupboard. After that, Isabelle went straight to sleep. She had barely hit the covers before she passed out. It really had been a long weekend, and she and the girls had stayed up quite late the night before. Sunday passed without incident. Isabelle had slept in until about 10 AM, which was outrageously late for her. She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, just in time to catch her mom heading out the door to go on her walking route. Jane invited Isabelle to join her, but it was clearly just meant to be courteous. Isabelle would not be going out for some time. Isabelle had sat down with her coffee, and proceeded to work at solving the Sunday sudoku. The local paper's puzzle difficulty tended to increase each day, with Monday being the easiest, and Sunday being the most challenging. Isabelle rarely finished the Sunday puzzles, but she always liked to try. That one's in particular had been extremely challenging, and her head seemed fuzzy that morning. "It is just not my day," Isabelle concluded, leaving the puzzle with only a few numbers filled in. Isabelle spent the morning watching some cheesy GetFlix show Dani insisted she needed to watch. It was a classic WC type show, but took place at an "elite' dancing school. Dani mentioned it was funny, so she gave it a shot. At the very least, it would give her something to talk about with Dani if she saw her before Wednesday's showcase. Speaking of which. after one horrifically bad episode - not to mention all the ballet mistakes the show made - Isabelle returned to her desk to work on her neglected timings for her showcase on Wednesday. She had spent so much time breaking in her slippers yesterday. and dozed off last night, that she really had not focused on them enough. Ballet, at its core, required study, timing, precision, and lots, lots of notes on paper. It was the behind the scenes work that the casual audience member never appreciated, but equal to practicing, timings and notes were essential to a well rounded performance. Isabelle was normally quite content to sit at her desk working on her timings and notes. In normal circumstances, a day after breaking her slippers in, her feet would be sore. She would be relieved to have her bum witting on her nice cushioned swivel chair, feet up on her little foot hammock underneath the desk. That had not been the case. In fact, her feet felt...great. They felt better than they ever had after breaking slippers in. And that was a problem. Because instead of focusing on her notes, Isabelle felt her eyes drifting to her closet to her right, up the floor, past her dresses, and fixing on the shoebox with her slippers. Perhaps it was because she had never owned something so expensive. Or maybe it was because she really fell in love with the slippers. Or maybe, just maybe, she was nuts - it couldn't be ruled out, Isabelle concluded - after the incident in her kitchen from Saturday afternoon: her dishwasher/ballet gala still left a few questions unanswered. Isabelle had spent half of the day looking back and forth to her closet. She was so distracted, she was making mistakes all over the place in her notes. "It couldn't hurt......I could just wear them while I wor-........No. No stop. You'll just dance, you won't work. You need to stop." Isabelle must have gone through this loop two-dozen times over 3-4 hours, before she finished her work. In fact, she had needed to get up and shut the closet - only to re-open it - and close it again - about 5-6 times, so she could stop fixating on the slippers. Isabelle had to practically drag herself out of her bedroom to go downstairs for dinner with her mom that night. As she was twisting leftover spaghetti onto her fork, her mom telling her something about something she saw on her walk or something else, Isabelle's mind had been reduced to one dimension: slippers, slippers, slippers. "At least I'll get to wear them this week," she told herself, as though it would help. Isabelle helped clean up the kitchen, and spent some time chatting with her mom about her weekend. Isabelle and Jane were sitting in the living room, roughly in the same spots they had on Friday during the gift exchange. Isabelle managed to shake off the fuzziness in her head long enough to carry a conversation, but after about 30-40 minutes of listening, chatting, and scrolling though her BlueIt account, she excused herself and headed to her bedroom. She had a long week ahead, and decided to go up and do her nightly routine, and start fresh tomorrow morning. ****** Monday arrived to the sound of raindrops battering against Isabelle's window. The cloud dimmed sunshine barely lit Isabelle's room anymore than it had been when she fell asleep. Slowly, Isabelle rose from the bed, throwing the covers off with her right hand, and stepping off the left side of the bed. Her mind was still on auto-pilot, as she headed toward the bathroom to relieve her bladder. Normally she could wait to go until she had some breakfast. But for some reason, this morning she felt the need to go pretty badly. "No sweat. First bathroom, then breakfast." Isabelle left her room, and made a right down the hallway toward the bathroom. Her eyes were barely half-opened as she pushed the bathroom door in, closing it gently behind her, and lifted the toilet seat up to sit down. She bent, over, pulling her shorts down around her legs, and sat down with her head resting on her opened hand, elbow leaning against her thigh. Isabelle opened her mouth, allowing a big yawn to escape, and cracked her neck to its right, just as the echo of her pee was hitting the water in the toilet bowl. She repeated the exercise, cracking her head to the left, and then lifting her arms up overhead. "Ahhhhhhhhh....." she sighed. as the relief from her neck - and her bladder - felt much more comfortable. "Jeez...I really needed to go," Isabelle thought, her pee-stream not seemingly relenting. After what felt like a full two minutes or so, and the last drops were echoing against the porcelan bowl, Isabelle grabbed a piece of toilet paper, wiped, dropping the paper into the toilet. Isabelle stood, leaning forward to pull her shorts up, standing upright and turning to face the toilet. She noticed her mom had replaced the flusher the morning before, and Isabelle proceeded to push it with a little more force than she used to, those new flushers being what they were. Isabelle continued about her morning routine, brushing her teeth, applying her lotions, serums, and other products, before returning to her room. She started making her bed, first pulling the sheet up toward the headboard, and then teh comforter after that, straightening out the edges and corners. Isabelle proceeded with the daunting task of collecting all her pillows, and placing them in their 'correct spots' on the bed. Finally, she took Rabbity from her bedside table, and placed her gently on front of the pillows, as though to guard the bed from intruders. "It hadn't worked so well with Dani, but then again, she was a much larger criminal mastermind than Rabitty was used to defending against," Isabelle thought to herself. What an odd thought to have. Isabelle shrugged it off, and started changing for the day, stripping off her pajamas and throwing them into the hamper. She went over to her dresser, took out a pair of white tights, and began pulling them on. She also grabbed a ballet black-bra to wear today during practice. Though her modest (nearly) B-cup breasts didn't need a bra under a well fitting leotard, today she felt like wearing one for practice, and so hooked it on. Isabelle opened the bottom drawer, and took out a pair of navy sweatpants bearing the "HIGGINS" name running down the left left, and tossed them onto her newly made bed, and then made her way to her closet to grab a black leotard. Isabelle shifted some hangers around, identified the one she had been looking for, and took the hanger off the hanging rod, returning to her bed. She took the leotard off, placed the hanger on her bed for later, and pulled the leotard on. It was a simple black, boat neck style leotard with sleeves, and Isabelle would be comfortable working out in this for the day. Isabelle slipped her navy sweatpants on over her tights, and grabbed the zip-up hoodie hanging over the back of her desk chair. Lastly, she grabbed her ballet bag, which contained her new slippers, an extra pair of tights, her water bottle in her separate product, and pins and scrunchies to keep her hair out of her face for the day. With that, she headed downstairs to enjoy some coffee, and make sure she was ready when her mom was ready to take her to Higgins. While Isabelle was putting the finishing touches on the morning's Sudoku - a surprisingly tough Monday puzzle - Jane made her way downstair, slipping her last earing into her left ear. "Sweetie, lets go. I don't want to be late for work," Jane announced. Isabelle spun around, hopped off the stool, reached down and grabbed her bag, and followed her mom out the door. Together, they hopped into the car, each snapped in their seatbelt, and took off toward Higgins. Isabelle sat silently looking out the window, contemplating the last week of summer programming. She would likely attend a few of the optional classes this morning, and then see about reserving some studio room for the afternoon. She'd have to head to the student affairs room at some point this week to work her schedule out, but that didn't need to happen today. Isabelle continued to stare out the window, now looking directly into Miller Park. It was early, and despite the fact that the rain had no relented, there were plenty of families in the park; moms pushing strollers; kids ushered into the park facilities for day camp; park services employees emptying the trash cans. It was a normal day. Isabelle loved looking out at the park on her way to school. It always felt peaceful. Jane noticed that Isabelle had been quiet that morning, and just let it be. She learned over time to appreciate her daughter's alone time with her thoughts. Isabelle was not a little girl she needed to dot on in the car ride. So she focused on the road, winding through the beautifully paved roads, up the face of the mountain, and toward the front entrance of Higgins. The car gave its normal sputter as she accelerated the car up the last portion of the hill....and over. From there, it was cruising altitude to the final destination. Jane stopped the car, looked at her daughter, and pulled her in for a hug. "Have a great day!" Isabelle hugged her mom back and with two words - "thanks Mom!" was out and heading toward the school. The campus was always quiet during the summer, but there were always clusters of students in summer programs around. As Isabelle entered the front door, she noted that it was a little busier than in past weeks. "Probably students coming to set their class schedules," she concluded. Isabelle was making her way toward the small ballet studio on the second floor, focused on her timings and steps. She was playing them out in her head over and over, ensuring that she memorized them. As she did, she rounded the corner on the second floor corridor and - OOMPH -- ... "ouch." It was the only word Isabelle muttered, her eyes having shut, and her body having bounced backward onto the floor. "Ughh....." Well, a word and a noise. Isabelle opened her eyes, preparing to issue an apology to whomever she had collided with, but upon doing so, realized that she had bumped into Avery. Her Avery. "He's not YOUR Avery, Isabelle," she had to remind herself. "Just because you might want him to be, doesn't mean....." Isabelle went beat red at the thought. "Shit. Now I'll have to explain this too." Isabelle had apparently been laying on the floor, eyes open, and starring at Avery long enough for him to apologize first. "Shit, Iz. I am so sorry. I didn't see you coming from around the corner. I was rushing outside to the stone sculptures...We have to get them covered with tarps." Isabelle remained silent. She wasn't sure why. But it felt as if her mouth was frozen and didn't work. Avery had popped up on his feet at this point, extending a hand to Isabelle, offering to help her up. Isabelle looked up, and started to move her arm toward Avery's accepting the offer. Avery was a boy she had been in school with for, well about 10 years now. He was one of the first students in accepted into the "Plastic and Visual Arts" program back when Higgins expanded into the field. In his freshman year of the high school program, he had transitioned full time into plastic arts, and was one of the better sculptors in the school almost immediately. "Take his damn hand" Isabelle told herself, still frozen. "If you wait any longer you'll look like a bigger idiot than you already do." She reached out, and grabbed his surprisingly soft hand. With little effort, Avery pulled her up, and Isabelle was back on her feet. Avery was considerably taller than her, probably hovering around 6 feet. He had these dark, fascinating blue eyes that caught your attention almost immediately. He was by no means fat, but he was certainly a huskier guy. But it suited him - "he spends all day smashing and carving rocks," she reminded herself, "not work for the dainty." It likely stood out to her more because the boys in her program were typically strong, but still narrow. Avery didn't look like a boy. He looked like a man. Isabelle was suddenly very aware of another problem. Yes, her butt - which she had landed directly on - did hurt. And yes, she had just looked like a fool in front of her beau. But neither of those could even possibly bother Isabelle at this point. No. No indeed. What was bothering her - correction - what was terrifying her now, was the realization that her stomach was rumbling. Yes. Her stomach. Much like it did every morning, her morning coffee set a ticking time bomb for Isabelle to need to poop. And this morning, for some god forsaken reason, rather than making her coffee AND THEN going to the bathroom, she had decided to pee first - damn her bladder - and have her coffee just before her mom had driven her to school. "Oh god.." Based on her experience, rumble volume, and the seismic readings her head was reading, she had about 10 minutes, which under her current circumstances, was about 20 minutes too short. Avery brushed his curly black hair back with his left hand, releasing Isabelle's hand with his right. "I really am sorry Iz," He started. Rumble. "I didn't see you coming from around the corner there." Rumble. Rumb- "My head was in another place. Are you alright." Isabelle looked back at Avery mustered her cutest smile, and just nodded. Avery looked unsure. Rumble. Rumble rumble. "Okay...if you say so. You look a little off. Are you sure you're okay?" Rumble. Isabelle nodded again, trying a second - but also cute - smile. She wasn't sure how many more of those she had in the bag. "I'll take your word for it, then." Rumble. Rumble. "but I also really have to get running. Professor Quartz will kill me if those pieces aren't covered. I'll see you later, okay?" This time, Isabelle did smile - smile of relief, coupled with yet another nod.. She had not moved an inch at this point, feeling a build beginning to develop in her bottom. At that point, Avery started walking past her, heading down the staircase Isabelle had just climbed. "You couldn't musted up one damn word Iz? What is wrong with you." Her internal voice was taunting her. Rumble. Rumble Rumble. Just then, possibly the best, and worst thing, happened under the circumstances. ... Well, not the worst. Just as Avery was pushing the door open, Isabelle lost a bit of control. *Thrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp.* She just... She just... She just farted...in front of Avery. Not just any fart. But a long, winding, high pitched fart. And there was no one, no one else around. She wanted. To. Die. But like she said: A miracle happened. Avery had pushed the door at the exact same time. "Maybe he didn't hear it. I mean, they happened at the EXACT same time" she told herself. "Had they really though?" She couldn't be sure....but it felt like they had. She needed them to have. She...she needed them to have. Rumble Rumble. It was also apparent to her that she didn't hear the door close. Avery as likely still holding it open. Why....why would he not have continued...unless....oh god....oh god he DID hear. Oh god. "Just take me now...take me" Isabelle prayed. "Dani and Lola will DIE when they hear what happened. I'll need to transfer schools...I mean, I really don't have a choice, now do I? There had to be school in Siberia or somewhere without internet, right?" Rumble. "Hey." That was all he said. One word. "Hey." That could mean anything. Rumble. Imitating one of the statutes Avery would have carved, Isabelle continued her strategy of not moving a muscle. "He isn't a deer Iz. He can see you even if you don't move." She knew it was stupid, but with her life over now, it seemed best to pretend she couldn't move. "Hey" Avery was beckoning back to her again. "Be cool...be cool Iz...You are capable of rotating your hear." She was being given another chance. Slowly but surely, she turned to see Avery standing there, one arm propping the door open. Rumble. Rumble Rumble Rumble. "Please. Please don't betray me again." Hopefully her gut would listen this time. Isabelle managed to turn around, making eye contact with Avery, with those deep, dark blue eyes. "I really do hope to see you later, okay?" Wow. Wow. The words looked like they came out of Avery's mouth. They sounded like it too. But it couldn't be true, could it? This was amazing! For two reasons. First, Avery wanted to see her. Second, he didn't hear her fart; he couldn't have. It was teenager science that a boy you fart in front of never wants to see you again. And HE wanted to see her. That was like, like the most proven theory ever." "Yah me too." Had she spoken? Shit. "I think you actually nailed that one though Iz," she told herself. "I have to go too though," she finished, still smiling and blushing. "Two for two Iz. Two for Two" she applauded herself. "Sounds good" Avery uttered the last two words as he was clearly receding down the stairs. Isabelle waited until she was certain the door to the stairwell had shut. And once she heard the *click. She shimmied her feet as fast as they would go to the ladies room past her classroom - which had started by the way, and through the door open. She pushed her way into one the stalls, throwing her zip up hoodie the ground. She basically kicked her sweats off, and was bouncing on her feet trying to pull her leotard down. "Oh please....Oh please....." Her stomach was on the verge. She needed to go. It was now or never. "Never.....Coffee....Again..." she was telling herself, as her stomach was pushing its contents further into her gut. ... Just as Isabelle was able to get her leotard down, and lower her tights, the moment of truth was upon her. She slammed her butt down on to the seat, and released. "Aghhhhhhhhhh............" .... "Oh god.....uh..uh...ah......." ... ... "ah......" She made it. Her bowels were pouring out into the toilet - this was a big one - but it didn't matter. She had made it. She was safe.....She was safe. The relief of making it was only made better by the relief from, well from expelling a pretty big poop into the toilet. Isabelle, content and confident that she was finished, spent the time to thoroughly wipe up, and flushed the toilet. She stood up, collected her zip-up, her pants, and slid her sneakers back on to her feet, heading to the sink to wash her hands. She looked herself in the mirror, grabbed a black velvet ballet scrunchie, and tied her hair up. She took a deep breath, settled her nerves - she was going to need to seriously break down what just happened with her girls later...maybe leaving out a few details...and started heading to class. Isabelle made her first right out of the bathroom, and tried to slip into the room unnoticed. Unfortunately, it was the small studio room, and Miss Lazard spotted her right away. "And if you think its appropriate to show up that late to class Ms. Lewis, how are we to rely on you all year?" she asked snarkily. Isabelle bowed her head "Sorry Miss Lazard. I'll be right there." She sat on the floor and opened her bag, just as Lola caught her eye with a "why the hell are you so late" type of look. "Very well. Put your slippers on and join the others." Isabelle wanted nothing more than just that. She wanted to dance. And dance she would.

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 5 The afternoon passed seemingly, without any significant event. Isabelle had intended to work more on her timings, but the truth was, she was having far more fun breaking in her new ballet slippers, and simply couldn't focus. The reality was, breaking in pointe slippers was extremely important if you wanted to rescue yourself from severe pain down the road. And Isabelle knew what she was doing. Truthfully, it was not much different than wearing any other "normal" shoe. You just had to, you know, wear the shoe or slipper. But of course, there were techniques for ballet slippers, especially pointe slippers, that were unique. The first thing Isabelle did, of course, was re-confirm that the slippers fit. Before this afternoon, she had tried them on only twice, and although they fit perfectly last time, the first time they had not. So it was to her great relief that when she slipped on her new ballet slippers, they well, slipped on and fit like they had with her friends. And they did. Not just that. But that absolute surreal feeling, that feeling of cushion, of joy, of.....what had she called it? Ah yes - Slipper heaven! That the slipper heaven had returned. It felt just as special as it had with her friends. It was more than perfect - putting on the slippers, it felt right again, came with an affirmation that the slippers were more than just hers....no, they were more. They were MEANT for Isabelle. The series of fluke events that led them into her life were, Isabelle concluded, destiny. And so it was, Isabelle spent the afternoon walking around in demi-pointe, stretching her feet out with simple ballet exercises. She danced her way around her bed, spun her way into the hallways, bounced up and down the stairs, and leapt across her kitchen, dining room, and basement. Wherever room permitted, she continued to work her slipperss in. The odd part was, the slippers didn't feel as though they needed much breaking in. Normally this process was, even in the best of cases, just slightly painful. Your toes hurt, you developed a tine blister, you felt the tension of the material in a new shoe or slipper. But not this time. This time the process.....was easy. It was natural. It was as if Isabelle was floating on clouds around her house, as if the slippers had become part of her feet, rather than just on them. *DING, BLA-BLING*. The sound of the dishwater informing Isabelle that the drying cycle had finished echoed through the house, just as she was bouncing down the stairs for the last time. "Perfect," thought Isabelle, "a chance to really start working these slippers out." Isabelle popped into the kitchen, remarking that it was already 1:48..."mom would be home in a few hours," she thought, "better get this done." Isabelle dropped the dishwasher door to the floor, and slid the top tray out. With her right hand, she grabbed the first mug she saw, the second opening the cabinet. "Annnnnd on Pointe!" she audibly announced to no one, and suddenly, she was on her toes. Up on her toes she leaned forward and stretched out, elegantly lifting her left foot into the air, and stretching her right hand into the air, placing the mug on the top shelf, careful not to put it too far back so she wouldn't struggle next time she needed access. Even on her slippers, however, it was a good stretch to get the mug up there. Isabelle didn't think on it too much. Instead, Isabelle repeated the process, alternating feet in the air, and stretching the slippers on pointe as she gracefully placed each mug in its correct spot. When the mugs destined for the top shelf were stored, she continued with the bottom shelf mugs and their neighbors, the soup bowls. Rather than stretching, she picked each mug and bowl up, and tip toed her way sideways across the kitchen, before leaning forward on one foot again, placing the bowl or mug where it belonged. Bowl. Mug. Mug. Mug. Bowl. Bowl. Bowl. Mug. Each movement flowed gracefully, and the top shelf of the dishwasher was done. Looking down at the lower drawer of the dishwasher, there was only one obvious answer. Isabelle dropped into a plie, pulled the drawer out, "and recover," she announced to herself, rising back to her feet. The slippers...the slippers felt amazing. Plie. Grab forks. Recover. Tip toe to drawer. Place forks. Tip Toe to dishwasher. Plie Grab spoons. Recover. Tip toe to drawer. Place spoons. Tip toe to dishwasher. Plie. Grab plates. Tip toe the other way. Open cupboard. On pointe. Place plates. Tip toe to dishwasher. Repeat. Each movement was better than the last. Each time she moved to her toes, turned, twisted, stretched, recovered, and returned - each and every time felt better and better. Isabelle had never felt better, or more confident in ballet slippers. And in that moment, her kitchen faded away. The dishwasher disappeared. The house walls fell away, the lights gone, the calendar on the fridge, disappeared, and the tiled floor fell away. In their place, a wooden stage rose from the ground; lights and pieces of scenery emerged around her; red velvet curtains unfolded, tumbling to the sides of her stage, and in front of her, hundreds - no, thousands of seats came out of the black abyss, unfolding into a beautiful theater, patrons filling every seat. Isabelle stopped, looked down, and saw it was not just the scenery that had changed, but her own appearance had changed as well. Gone was her raggedy t-shirt she wore to do chores, replaced by a beautiful cream leotard. Her bare legs, previously covered by a pair of athletic shorts, had been overtaken by brand new patterned tights. Her hair no longer hung to her shoulders, but was professionally tied into a bun. The only thing that felt the same, were the slippers. Isabelle was unfazed. Why, exactly? She couldn't tell you. But she had been here before. This was the concert hall at Higgins, where the school's best performances took place. Perhaps she was unfazed since she had been in this exact space before. No, not like this. Sure, she had been on stage before. Even the freshmen played roles in the shows, and trained and practiced there. But now, the eyes of the crowd were all fixed on her. Isabelle had never been here quite like this. Never as the star. She had been here before though. In her fantasies. Except this was no longer a fantasy. It felt real. But it couldn't be....how could it? But any doubt she had, dissipated into the former black abyss. Instead, she was instilled with confidence. She knew precisely what to do. Dance. Chaînés, pirouettes, and fouettés. Fouetté turns, piqué tours, and attitude. Step by step; movement by movement, she performed. And not just performed, but excelled. She had never, not once, danced like this in her life. In fact, Isabelle was sure she was not capable of dancing this well in real life. How....how was this happening. No room for doubt. No room for questioning. Instead, something reminded her....only room for greatness. And greatness she achieved, As Isabelle made her way to center stage, and ended her performance in the greatest grand pirouette she had ever performed, the music died out, and was replaced by resounding applause. Applause that lasted, what felt like a lifetime. Isabelle was...she was a star. Isabelle picked her head up, anticipating rewarding her fans with an acknowledgment. But as she did, it all disappeared. The stage, the lights, the curtains. The patrons, the seats, the scenery. Just like that - they all faded away. Into the darkness. In their place, a fridge returned, with the date marked on a calendar. Her mom's countertops returned, having recently been wiped down. Slowly her kitchen, her home, came back to her. Or perhaps she came back to it, and with that the realization that her performance had indeed been just a fantasy. "But it felt....so real." What had been real apparently, was time. Time had elapsed, she noticed, looking at the clock on the wall. "2:41....that performance took...like 40 minutes....what the hell." Isabelle was extremely confused. Had she just been standing here that whole time, playing make believe? She looked down at the dishwasher, reminding herself that it still had - "no it doesn't...its empty. But there...there was still stuff in there." Had she blacked out? What on earth happened. Unfortunately for Isabelle, she would have to figure this out later. At that moment, her mom opened the front door, calling to her "Sweetie - sorry I am later than I thought. But I needed to get groceries on the way back home. Can you go out to the car and get a few bags?" She pleaded, smile on her face. Isabelle just smiled back at her mom from the kitchen, and through the hall "of course mom. Let me just take the slippers off. I've been breaking them in all afternoon." The thought that she had been wearing her slippers on all day warmed Jane's heart. She was thrilled - it seemed her daughter really did enjoy the new ballet slippers. Isabelle came down the hall, twirling her way toward the stairs and hoping on pointe, just before jogging up the stairs. A few moments later, she returned in socks and sneakers, and ran out the door to help her mom. The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 6 "You have everything you need for the night sweetie?" Jane asked, as Isabelle was bringing a bag down the stairs. "Yes mom. I'm just going over the Williams house. Jess said Eric would already be asleep, and Becky is easy." Jane exhaled, "Alright. Just remember that you won't be able to come back here if you forget something. Becky is too young, even too leave alone for a minute." Jane left it at that, making her way to the kitchen. "If there are any issues, please just call me. I am just going to be picking up some things at Target. The toilet seat lever up in your bathroom needs replacing, and I saw they were having a sale on linens. I'll see if there is anything good." Isabelle knew Becky was too young to leave alone. Hell she was only 4. Why was her mom lecturing her? It didn't matter. Isabelle felt bad that her mom was spending Saturday night shipping for toilet parts. "She should be out with friends. Not going to Target." Isabelle wished her mom would live her life more. The afternoon had passed without incident. After unloading the car, Isabelle returned to her room to work on her timings. She came down around 6:30 to help her mom finish cooking dinner - pasta with some chicken in it - and then helped her wash up. By that time, Isabelle needed to get her bag packed - not forgetting to put her ballet slippers in there - and made her way to the front door so she could walk to the Williams house before 7:15. Her mom had been really grateful that she had cleaned the house up, and Isabelle felt good about herself. Isabelle slid on a paid of sliders, through her bag over her shoulder, and out the front door she went. At the bottom of the stairs, she hooked a left and walked down past the series of townhouses, all the way to the last one. She turned up the stairs, looked at the front door, pausing on the first stair, and took a deep breath. "Here we go," she said, motivating herself to get in there. She had been finding herself distracted. As Isabelle was reaching for the door, Ms. Williams - or Jess, as she insisted Isabelle call her - opened it up. "Iz, thank you so much for getting here early. John thought he made a reservation for 8, but its turns out its for 7:30..help me with this earing." Isabelle jumped into action, and helped her get the last lock on the back of her left ear. "....thanks. So anyway we're in a bit of a rush." Isabelle was happy to help "you should have told me. And Jess, you look - well, you look hot!" Isabelle said, laughing. "I love that red dress!" Jess blushed a bit, though it was an odd remark to hear from a babysitter. "Thanks sweetie. I guess I was going for 'hot'" At that moment, John came down the stairs in his suit, "Eric is in his crib asleep, so he shouldn't be an issue. But just take the monitor with you in case," he said, handing her the baby monitor connected to the one in Eric's room. "Oh, and one more thing.." This time it was Jess. Isabelle hated the 'one more thing' most of the time. This couldn't be good. "Becky has been having...trouble with her potty training. She had an accident today - nothing serious - but we have her in a pull-up tonight. She isn't happy about it, obviously. But we wanted to let you know. If you wouldn't mind reminding her to use the potty, it might help." she finished off, "Oh" - almost finished off - "and you know the rules we use, so just use your best judgment. She's upstairs protesting us or some other nonsense. Thanks again Iz!" And just like that, they were out the door, leaving Isabelle in charge. Isabelle didn't mind this twist. She babysat plenty of kids who had potty issues, and plenty more that were still in diapers. But Becky had been doing so well in the past, and Isabelle was rooting for her. The last time she sat, Becky had run to the door to pull down her pants and show her - and anyone else in the street - that she was wearing "big girl panties". This was a notable departure from that, but Jess was pretty strict about what accidents meant, and far be it from Isabelle to question Jess's rules. Isabelle made her way up the stairs, familiar with the layout of the house. The Williams family used the same primary bedroom her mom used, and Becky was in the equivalent of her room. Eric, on the other hand, would be in what her mom used as an office. Nevertheless, Isabelle deftly made her way upstairs, and knocked on little Becky's door. "hey sweetie...Its Iz! Can I come in?"......... .... "No!" ... "Oh boy," thought Isabelle. "This was going to be a fun party." But then again, Isabelle knew how to manage a 4 year old. "Okay I suppose....I suppose I'll just have to have a dance party by myself." Isabelle continued playfully, "If you think of anyone that would have wanted to join Becky, let them know I'll be downstairs in the playroom. Having a dance party. All by myself. ALLLLLL ALOOONNNE." Now, she just needed to wait. ....a little longer....Isabelle added a couple of receding stomps to really sell it... ....and.... *click*. The sound of the doorknob turned, and it opened just a crack. Isabelle, meanwhile, was hiding on the far side of the door. When Becky opened it just a little bit more....."GOTCHYA" Isabelle screamed, picking the sweet girl up and spinning her around. Just like that, Becky was giggling. Isabelle settled her into her arms, and looked her in the eye. Becky was a cute little girl, blonde just like Isabelle. Her hair had been brushed out into pigtails, her chubby cheeks red and swollen from crying earlier in the night. She was small for 4, but cute as a button. "Now, we can't have any fun with you all locked up in your room, can we?" Becky shook her head. "Nu-uhhh." she confirmed. "Well, do you know anyone who might want to have a DANCE PARTY?" Isabelle asked. Becky's arm shot up "Me! Iz! MEEE!" Isabelle was going to continue to have fun. "Hmmmmmm what a shame, there's no one to dance with me!" Becky pouted "Me!! Me!! MEEEEEEE" Jeez, that last one was loud. "Okay, okay cutie, lets keep the shouting down so we don't make your brother. Let's head on downstairs, kay?" Becky nodded, and Isabelle placed her on the ground. Becky started toddling away ahead of Isabelle, with her close in tow. Jess had already put Becky in her PJs - a two piece unicorn set that Isabelle knew was her favorite. Becky was getting a little big for the set, though, as she had had it for some time. Just over the hem of the pants, Isabelle spotted what was clearly the pullup she felt when resting Becky in her arms. Isabelle had used the opportunity to check if it was used, which it wasn't. As they headed down to the playroom - Iz made a quick pit stop on the bottom stair to quickly put her ballet slippers on. Of course, the proposed dance party was merely an excuse for her to spend another 30 minutes breaking the shoes in, but the truth was, Becky loved their 'dance parties,' and so it was really a win win. "Okay squirt. First - does anyone need to use the potty?" Becky would be distracted, better to check now. "Not me Iz!"...'are you sure sweetie?" Iz responded. "Yup!" Becky responded quickly. Isabelle didn't want to mention that her mom mentioned the accident if she didn't need to. Becky did seem confident that there were no problems. So she decided to trust her. "Okay," Isabelle said, pulling her phone out and getting a good kid's mix on Spotify she liked to use, "Question Two: Are. You. Ready?!?!" Isabelle never heard a yes, but a lot of squealing ensued, confirming yes, Becky was indeed ready. And so they danced, Isabelle carefully and deceitfully breaking her shoes in using the same techniques as before, and Becky, throwing her body wildly however she felt to the music. Isabelle laughed - she loved the innocence and playfulness of children. Becky was free - free from choreography, for timing, from steps, from rules. She was free to express herself, exactly how she felt at that moment, to that music. Sometimes, just sometimes, Isabelle missed that freedom, which had long ago been coached out of her. After 30 minutes of sweaty dancing, Isabelle turned the music off and called the event. "Dancers," she playfully announced, mimicking an M.C., "we thank you for your EXCELLENT dancing, but the party, is now over, as it is 8 PM, and that is our closing time." Becky was, surprisingly, okay with the end of the game. It would almost be her bed time, and the dancing would have worn her out. Isabelle continues "are there any princesses in attendance who are ready for bed?!" Becky's smile didn't subside, but she shook her head no. "Can we please play one more game Iz?! Just one more? Please? And then bedtime." Isabelle considered the offer. One the one hand, Jess was flexible with the 8 PM bedtime, so long as she wasn't up past 8:30 at the worst. On the other hand, Becky could get....cranky. What to do... What to do, what to do..... ....Isabelle took a deep breath. "She had a rough day. Let's give her a better night" she told herself. "Okay princess. But under two conditions." Becky's eyes lit up "First, you need to go brush your teeth and use the potty upstairs now." Becky was practically running. "AND TWO," Becky stopped, "you are going right to bed, no questions asked when we are done. Understood?" Becky nodded rapidly, and climbed the stairs to go to her bathroom. Isabelle knew she could trust her up there. Isabelle proceeded to take her ballet slippers off, returning them to her bag. "That was a successful day" she concluded "but I never did figure out what happened earli-" her thoughts were cut off by a pitter patter down the staircase. Becky was returning. "Teeth brushed?" Isabelle questioned. Becky nodded. "You used the potty?" Becky didn't react, and then nodded. "Becky...are you telling the truth." Becky decided more quickly this time "Yup!." Isabelle thought about it for a second, and then let it go. "Okay. What do you want to play?" Becky had this one dialed up "Hide and Seek!" Isabelle smiled. It was Becky's favorite game. She was also, like any four year old, a terrible hider. This game would be over quick. "Okay deal. But when I find you, its bedtime." Becky considered the terms, and then agreed "Okay! you stay here and count to 30. No. Not here. Go in the kitchen. Count there." Isabelle smiled and made her way to the kitchen, counting as she walked "Better get going...4.....5...I'm going to find you.....8.....9...." Becky practically sprinted back upstairs, stomping on every step almost as if to make it even easier to locate her. Isabelle stopped counting, and instead checked her phone. She would give Becky ten minutes, pretend she had been looking, and then find her on the floor of the tub - her only hiding spot. Isabelle took the opportunity to let Dani and Lola know that she had been working the slippers in all day, and they felt great. Lola responded immediately, with a smiley emoji. Dani was apparently busy tonight, but she'd get around to it. The remaining time, Isabelle spent surfing various websites, and catching up on her social media accounts. She checked her watch, saw about 12 minutes had passed, and headed toward the stairs. "HMMMMMM she wasn't in the BASEMENT," Isabelle announced, feigning her search. "And I couldn't find her ANYWHERE down here! Where could Becky BE?!?! I guess I'll look upstairs." Isabelle stomped up the stairs to add to the anticipation. She got to the top of the stairs, and made a left to Jess and John's bedroom, opening it enough for it to make a noise, and shouting "Not in here. What a GREAT hider she is." Becky knew she was not allowed in there when her parents weren't home. She didn't need to look in there. Isabelle went and repeated the process with Becky's door. "Not in here either. I guess I'll look in the BATHROOM.." she announced. Isabelle retraced her steps back to the kids' bathroom, and opened it up. "She's not in the...TOILET" Isabelle announced, She's not in the..... ...... Isabelle's attention was broken. ..*Snif.........*Sniffle...... It was quiet at first, but it was getting louder now. The baby monitor in her pocket was picking up something. "Please Becky.....please tell me you didn't wake your brother up...." Isabelle knew it hadn't been her. She had been emphasizing words, but not shouting. In any event, the game would need to take a backseat for a moment, while she went and checked on Eric. Isabelle closed the bathroom door and headed toward the nursery. She opened it quietly, and made her way toward the crib. Eric didn't seem in distress...In fact, he was sleeping soundly. Isabelle went up to him to make sure. Sure enough, he was fine. "Better make sure," she thought, and she placed her hand against the onesie to see if he needed a change.....but nothing, Isabelle unsnapped one of the buttons just to confirm, but as she did, she heard the crying again, this time with her ears. Isabelle snapped the onesie back up, and suspected she knew what this was. "Ugh.." she exasperated, "please don't let this be what I think it is..." Unfortunately, her ears were not the only sense picking up something. Her nose had picked up something as well. Something...oh boy. She knew what that something was. Turning 90 degrees to her right, following her ears and nose, she saw two little feet protruding from behind the curtains. She knew who those feet belonged to, and it wasn't a fairy godmother. Eyes, Ears, and Nose - her senses were not failing her. Isabelle walked over quietly, bent down, and pulled aside the curtain to find Becky, standing, back against the wall, and tears running down her face. Isabelle didn't ask what was wrong. She didn't need to. Instead, she did the only thing you could do - she pulled Becky in, and gave her a hug. "Shhhhhh Shhh Shhhhh Sweetie. It's okay....It is. It's fine baby.....Accidents happen..Shhhhhh Shhhh Shhhhh." Isabelle was whispering to make sure not to wake Eric up, but it seemed to be doing the job. Becky had buried her head into Isabelle's shoulder, tears running down Isabelle's chest. "Baby...Let's get you cleaned up...It's okay...It's okay..." Isabelle didn't want to let Becky know the inevitable. She didn't want it to lead to a potential tantrum. But as Jess said, the rules were the rules. And Jess was in charge - Isabelle was a mere proxy. And so, Isabelle eased Becky over to the wall opposite the crib where Eric's changing table sat. She had Becky wait, and helped pull down her pajama bottoms and help Becky step out of them. "There you go...see...no problems at all sweetie. One foot....great...and now two...So good. Good girl!" After that, Isabelle took a moment to look Becky in the eye from her crouched position. "Sweetie...It was an accident. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." That was all she could say - what else was there? This poor girl - hiding behind a curtain - had the worst possible thing happen to her: she pooped her pullup. And she knew the consequences. Just like that, Isabelle started lowering her pullup down her legs, careful to keep its contents away from Becky's legs. As she was removing the pullup, she realzied Becky had not just pooped, but she peed in this as well. It was at max capacity. There was no way Becky was honest with her before, but that was a problem she would report to Jess to deal with. "Okay sweetie, careful here. One foot...great and ...that's right second foot. Great job baby!" Isabelle took the pullup and put it down into Eric's diaper genie, without any mess. "Now, now the challenging part." Per Williams mandate, Becky would need to be put in a diaper. Poopy accidents left no choice. Isabelle reached into the bottom cubby of the changing table where she knew Jess kept emergency spares for Becky. Reaching back, she found a "barbie" one, and started opening and fluffing it out. "Barbie' wouldn't do anything to liven the mood, so Isabelle elected not to draw attention to it. She hated that she had to do this. But the truth was, Becky had lied to her. Isabelle gave her two chances, AND let her stay up later. "Big girls need to be responsible" Isabelle concluded, "and tonight, Becky wasn't. I knew...I knew she should have just gone to bed after we danced." But that wouldn't have solved anything...in fact...it may have made a much bigger mess. "Interesting choice of words" Isabelle thought to herself. Isabelle picked Becky up - surprisingly to no resistance - and laid her out on Eric's changing table. "This girl is worn out - she just wants to go to bed" Isabelle realized. "Shhhhhh. It's okay baby. Izzy is going to fix everything" she soothed. Isabelle quickly and deftly started wiping up the mess - front and back - with some of the baby wipes next to the table. Becky shuddered at the coolness of the first one, but relaxed as Isabelle finished her work. "Legs up hunny," she whispered, and Becky cooperated. Isabelle slid the diaper underneath her, spilling some baby powder on her backside while she was there. Another couple of sprays of powder to the front, and Isabelle set the powder down. Isabelle pulled the front of the diaper up, and taped Becky up. "All done sweetie. Snug like a bug. That was easy, no? No one got hurt, did they?" Becky didn't fight it, but she certainly wasn't going to agree. Isabelle proceeded to pick up Becky's PJ bottoms, made sure they were still dry, and helped her back into them. "Let's get to bed baby, its been a long day." Isabelle lifted Becky off the table, and onto her hip. As she did, Becky laid her head against Isabelle, and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Becky's eyes were rolling back, and she was practically asleep. "She's adorable" was all Isabelle could think. Becky's diaper was more than apparent in her PJs, both protruding out from the waistline, and the bulk poofing out from inside. "It really is precious," Isabelle thought, "even if she's too old for them." Isabelle hiked Becky up to a comfortable spot, left the nursey, closing the door behind her. She then headed directly across the hall into Becky's room, leaving the door open just a crack. She lifted Becky with both arms now, placing her into the bed and lifting the covers over her. "You'll get there one day cutie. We all do. We all just learn to use the potty in our own time. I promise." Isabelle wasn't quite sure who she was talking to - Becky was lights out - but it felt right to tell her the words of comfort anyway. Isabelle made her way back out, turning just before she left. Becky had settled, thumb in her mouth, and fast asleep. "Problem for another time.' It had in fact been a long day for Becky. In fact, it was been a long day for Isabelle too. Isabelle shut the door behind her, deciding to head downstairs and watch some TV. She needed a rest. She was exhausted.

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 4 A single ray of light hit Isabelle in the face. "...Go away..." She grumbled.. It didn't. In fact, that single ray of light began expanding, her facing feeling a full blast of the morning sun's warmth, as she struggled to open her eye to identify the source of the intrusion. Batting her eyelashes several times in order to adjust to this afront to her cornea, she noticed the basement window drape had not been fully shut, an obvious oversight she and her compadres had overlooked in their late night shenanigans. Isabelle rolled over - or intended to at least - only to realize she was twisted up in the covers. In front of her, having taken the position of little spoon to her big, was her traditionally bigger spoon friend Lola, laying peacefully on her side with her back to Isabelle, assuming the little spoon last night. Lola's thick black hair was an opposing force against the morning light, which danced around each cool, midnight stand falling from her head. Lola, had pulled her long, muscular legs up into an almost fetal position to ensure her feet hadn't been hanging off of the edge of the pull out bed. Isabelle, now stretching her legs out in order to wake them up, was about the length of the bed itself, so it was not surprising that Lola needed to scrunch up a bit. Isabelle reached her arms out of the covers in order to lengthen her body, taking a long, deep breath, and accepting defeat at the hands of the penetrating light particles that had breached their fortress of solitude. Behind her, in a heap of covers and comforters, Dani was presumably buried alive. Whereas Lola and Isabelle were stacked neatly side by side, Dani likely assumed forty-eight different positions through the night, twisting and turning like a creature out of a horror film. She was a figgiter, through and through. It was always ironic to them how she slept, since Dani could hold a dance position still longer and straighter than either of her two bunkmates. Half of her friend, it appeared, was on the bed, and another half on the "L" shape of the couch that did not pull out into a bed. In fact, the only evidence she was still in the room was the twisted mess of light copper hair emerging from about 11 different directions under a sheet. "Dani would regret not having tied her hair up unlike she and Lola," Isabelle thought. "Or more like, she won't have any regrets at all." Isabelle smiled to herself. She was happy. And if she could freeze any moment in time, it would be this. That was, until Lola released a little *toot* in her direction, and Isabelle couldn't do anything but laugh. "Gross!," She feigned, "I gotta get out of the blast zone here." Her smile had not dissipated. With the precision and delicacy of a surgeon, Isabelle assessed the the landscape of covers she was in. She gently lifted her right side, releasing a bulky cover she had tucked under her side, and freeing it out behind her. She twisted her feet, dancing, lifting, and leaping them through the knots she and her friends had messily and haphazardly tied in their revelry. Finally, she felt enough freedom to wriggle her way upwards, and gently threw her legs over the top of the couch, and was upright! Isabelle maneuvered toward the window at the front side of the house, and pulled the curtain across the window properly, putting an end to her new sworn enemy that arose her from her slumber. The darkness returned, setting over the room. Satisfied her friends could sleep comfortably, she turned around and set about going upstairs to plan out her day, and hopefully have some coffee. Isabelle tiptoed up the stairs as respectfully as she could, avoiding the creaky spots on the top few stairs she had learned to navigate. Gently, she turned the silver knob to the basement door, releasing it and sliding it out toward the back of the kitchen, gracefully leaping over the last, creakiest, and noisiest step on the staircase. Feet on the main level, she turned back toward the door and eased it shut. "Didn't make a noise. The LAST thing I want to do is to wake up Dani." Her friend was not a morning person. Making her way into the kitchen, she saw her mom moving around the kitchen, and dressed for work. The clock on the microwave read 8:35. "Morning sweetie! Have fun with your friends last night? I'm surprised you're up so early! I practically heard you guys up all night." A twinge of guilt hit Isabelle. "Sorry mom...I hope we weren't keeping you up." She went and greeted her mom with a big morning hug, remembering she should be especially nice to her today, and for the foreseeable future. Jane, taken aback by her daughter's morning affection, took a moment, but returned the affection. She thought about making a remark, but then thought better of it "better to not make a point, else she'll regret doing it" she reminded herself. Instead, Jane released the hug and looked down at her daughter's eyes "I am going to head off to work in a few minutes. I took another Saturday shift after JoAnne dropped out yesterday afternoon. I shouldn't be more than a few hours, so I'll see you before you leave tonight, okay?" Isabelle nodded. That was right - she had agreed to babysit for the Williams family down the block, in the furthest townhouse, tonight. "Okay mom, no problem." Her nostrils were filled with the sweet, sweet scent of roasted coffee beans, and that was all that could occupy her mind. The drip coffee pot was sitting on the "warm setting," the tin of off-brand ground coffee sitting on top of the machine. "I'm going to grab a mug of coffee while they sleep and well just hang out a bit before they head out." Jane nodded approvingly. Isabelle headed over the cupboard housing their numerous novelty and non-matching mugs, while her mother listed off some chores for her to do while she was out. "It would really help if you ran an emptied the dishwasher while I'm going hunny, if you don't mind." Opening the cupboard, she recognized why - they were almost out of clean dishes. Isabelle had noticed that the night before, but not paid attention to the dire coffee mug situation. The first shelf was empty, and she would need to resort to one of the top shelf, backup mugs. "Those are never as fun" she pouted, "but desperate times, desperate times Iz." She looked up, identifying a mug destined for her morning elixir. Popping onto her toes, Isabelle stretched out her arm, swinging her index finger by the mug to scoop it by its handle, and falling back onto her feet. Odd. She missed. Isabelle looked back up, and then back at her empty hand. "I don't normally have issues reaching that. Perhaps the mugs are set further back on the shelf than usual." So up on her toes again, Isabelle made a second swipe at her mug. She missed again. The mug was too far. "Who the hell put those so far back on the shelf?" She thought to herself. "Wait...I unloaded the dishwasher. I literally put those there." Jane, recognizing her daughter's shortcoming, came over and deftly took down three mugs, without much thought about it. "For your friends too," she said, placing all three on the counter. Isabelle's concern about the mg was erased at the reminder that coffee was available, and she would have some. "And do check your slippers again sweetie," Jane anxiously reminded her daughter. In truth, Jane was up all night worrying about them, and feeling guilty that her gift was simply not right. "I'll have some time tomorrow to go to the store if you want to get a different pair. I'm free all morning, but have to run errands in the afternoon." Isabelle was stirring some sugar into her coffee, which fortunately for her was already on the counter. "How could I have forgotten to tell mom! She's going to be so happy." she thought. "Actually mom, Dani and Lola saw the box last night, and asked me to try them on for them. You won't believe it, but they fit absolutely perfectly! I don't know why I thought they were big downstairs, but they fit and felt great. Better than great. In fact, they were incredible. If....if its alright..." Isabelle was reminded of what was likely an extravagant price, her excitement overtaken by guilt, "I mean, if you're sure its okay....I think...I'd like to, you know...to keep them." Isabelle practically whispered the last words. Whatever Jane was expecting this morning, Isabelle's statement was not it. Jane was ecstatic. "Of course sweetie! Of course you keep them! Don't be ridiculous. I am so glad they fit. I mean, the lady at the store, she told me they wouldn't...told me there would be no chance. But if you're sure, if you're really really sure, than yes, of course! I just don't want you to pretend they fit if they don't!" Isabelle was smiling ear to ear. "They really do fit mom. And I will keep them." Isabelle had never been so happy. "Even Dani and Lola thought they were the most stunning slippers they had seen mom." She added. Her mom would be proud to know they weren't just special slippers for the likes of Isabelle, but even Dani and Lola appreciated them. Isabelle spent the next few minutes chatting with her mom, selectively letting in her on some of the conversational points from last night. She wouldn't divulge the "goods," but shared enough to keep her mom up to date on her and her friends' lives. She was close with her mom, even if she didn't want to share everything. After about ten minutes, Jane tipped the last bit of coffee into her mouth, and announced "I'm heading out. Please remember the dishes sweetie. And enjoy your Saturday. I'll see you this afternoon." Her mom kissed her on the cheek, and set off out the door. Left alone for the first time, Isabelle pulled up a stool and reflected on the last day. She was ecstatic that the slippers fit, so much so that she practically forgot they ever didn't fit. At this moment, she counted herself the luckiest girl in the world. Her friends would be sleeping a little longer, so she might as well go about her routine until they woke up. She pulled the local newspaper her mom had been reading over to her end of the counter, and flipped to the "games section," navigating to the Sudoku. While Isabelle was not particularly great at mathematics, she did enjoy this number puzzle over the last few years. At first, she really struggled with them, but at some point last year she really got the hang of them. And so, she went about inserting numbers, square by square, column by column, row by row. About 30 minutes later, she looked up and saw the clock as 9:23. "Pretty good time," she told herself. Her coffee finished, and her body informing her it was time to use the facilities, she made her way upstairs and into her bathroom. Coffee seemed to have a rather, errrr, immediate effect on her internal plumbing. Isabelle pulled her shorts down, sat down on the toilet and went about making a "deposit" as her mother embarrassingly liked to call it. "GA-ROSSSS MOM" was Isabelle's standard response to that parental remark. Even though she had obviously used the bathroom in the same house as her friends, she was always more comfortable going in private, and she was glad her friends were still asleep. Even when she slept at Dani or Lola's, she made a point of finding one of the many remote bathrooms that the other girls wouldn't use, if the need arose. Isabelle took the opportunity to pee as well. She wiped, got up, closed the lid and flushed, and went to wash her hands. "Evergreen Christmas? Sor t of early for the Christmas soap mom.." she thought, pumping the foam into her hands. It did smell good though. Isabelle proceeded to wash her face, brush her teeth, and take care of her regular skin care routine, before grabbing the "Poo-Pouri" on the stand behind the toilet. There were no remote toilets in her house, and her friends kits were already laid out in here. "Better clean the scene of the crime" she thought. Content with herself, Isabelle made her way downstairs. It turned out it was just in the nick of time, as Isabelle had barely sat down by the time Lola emerged from around the corner. "Sustenance. Life Blood. Needed." Isabelle knew this meant coffee, and went about making her a cream colored milk-coffee with Lola's preferred sugar content - immense scoops. "Thank you!" she said, as Isabelle handed her the mug. Lola took a few sips before she was willing to speak. "That's better. Did you see?" Isabelle didn't know where Lola was going with this. "Apparently we let some red-headed Scottish beast into the basement last night. Fortunately, it appears we also successfully smothered it with pillows. So tonight, WE FEAST" she stated, hoisting a nearby fork into the air a la Excalibur. Isabelle practically spit her mouthful of her second cup of coffee out, managing instead to only dribble a puddle down her chin. Lola took a nearby napkin, and artfully skipped over to Isabelle, playfully dabbing her chin clean. Isabelle played along, leaning her chin out and allowing it to happen. "Royal Napkin Holder at your disposal, your majesty," Lola stated, bending into a curtsey. "Your services are no longer needed wielder of Napkin. Be Gone!" Isabelle dramatically waved her friend off, before doing a mini-pirouette and ending the scene. Lola stood in front of her smiling. Lola was a beautiful girl, Isabelle was frequently reminded. Her dark hair contrasted beautifully against her pale, almost white skin. She had a beautiful heart-shaped face, with inviting, dark chestnut eyes. Her facial features were sharp, but kind. She was a unicorn amongst dancers, with a true hourglass shaped body, beautifully curved in all the right places. Isabelle was often jealous of her figure, especially since it was no impediment to her exceptional dancing skills. Lola's true gift were her legs. Not only were they slim, muscular, and incredibly strong, but Lola's legs seemed to occupy two-thirds of her whole body. She was undoubtedly the favorite for the fall lead, though that didn't mean the other dancers didn't want it too. Isabelle would be happy if Lola was picked. She deserved it, and was undoubtedly one of the best dancers Higgins had in some time. Lola and Isabelle continued to chitchat away until about 10:15, when they decided to check on the status of their prized kill from the highlands, planning a well orchestrated joint pounce on the creature to ensure its demise. But, just as they opened the door to the basement, they were confronted with the beast at the top of the stairs. "You two look like you are up to absolutely no good, and I am not here for that." Lola and Isabelle couldn't contain their laughter, and backed up enough to allow their friend out. "Regrets...did not tie hair last night. Tell me its not as crazy as it feels," Dani asked, knowing the answer. "Oh sweetie," Lola started, draping and wrapping her arm around her friend, "I wish I could, but its positively wild!" Lola smacked a kiss on her friends cheek, who couldn't help but smile. "Great....This should make for a fun afternoon." The three girls returned to the kitchen to drink their coffee, eat cereal out of the box, and of course, continue chatting about whatever came to mind. The morning passed by just like that, until inevitably, the topic of the slippers returned to the forefront. "Seriously Iz, you need to wear those ALL weekend. You need to work them in. You have just GOT to perform in them next week." Dani was persistent. Isabelle, feeling more confident about them now, affirmed their desires "Yup. I'm sitting tonight, and the kids go to sleep fairly early. So I can work them in and work some basic moves over there. Maybe I'll ask for time in the studio, if Higgins can spare some, early next week too." And just like that, morning passed to noon. Her friends each respectively made their way to the bathroom, affirming Isabelle's decision to spray the air freshener. They went upstairs, threw more pillows around her room, and eventually, packed their bags to head out. Her friends then said their goodbyes and headed out to Lola's car, and just like that, off they were. I Isabelle, not forgetting her mother's instructions, went about her chores. Isabelle loaded and ran the dishwasher, and even decided to wipe the counters down and clean the coffee pot, carefully dumping the grinds out in the trash. Once finished, she headed downstairs to clean up the basement, fix the couch, and fold the blankets, returning them to a linen closet. Once she was done, Isabelle had planned to do some timings for her performance, and so returned upstairs to her room. Isabelle grabbed her headphones, started her music on her phone and headed to her desk chair. But she couldn't sit down. Her body...her body wouldn't move forward. Instead, her eyes were drawn to her cupboard, her only thought - the ballet slippers. There was no need to look at them. Of course they were there, and she really did have work to do. Nevertheless, her legs started moving toward the closet, and before she knew it, she was sitting on the bed, shoebox in hand. "Well, there's no reason to wait until tonight I suppose," Isabelle decided. "If I really am going to dance in these next week, best to start wearing them now. What harm could there be in that?"

I missed your comment yesterday! Thank you for your kind words. I am doing my best to write the kind of story I would want to read. I am happy you are enjoying it thus far!