Roomies with the Hockey Devil: Alpha Rhodes is a Girl?

RHODA In terms of luck, I was born unfortunate. I had to study ballet secretly, used my pocket money to buy costumes, and tried my best to make today perfect. But fate struck — this time, below the belt. My boyfried was f*****g another man so happily that neither of them noticed my presence. I had the pointe shoes in hand, my classical Tutu and ghostly makeup on. The last thing I needed before going onto that stage to do the unthinkable was — him, on his knees sucking c**k. “f**k, I’m close…” he gasped as his boyfriend pumped into his mouth. A wave of nausea hit me, and I turned quickly. No. I will not fall apart here, not after all my efforts for three years. The wet, shameless sound of them irked my ears. I gently walked out of the room. I loved him for three years, but he never once kissed me, never tried to be romantic with me. I had even let him see me naked, purposely, thinking it would move him to want me. But he never did — as if I were not a woman Maybe I wasn't— to him. “Hey, human b***h. Today's your ballet show?” I didn't answer. What was the point of going onstage without a pianist? How was I supposed to tell anyone that my pianist — my boyfriend, the one I’d relied on had been gay this entire time, and had chosen today, of all days, to let me find out? I pressed my nails into my palms until the sting grounded me. Clawdeen was pacing up the dressing room when I walked in. Her green eyes lit up immediately when she saw me. “Where is Dylan? You went to get him, right?” “We need another pianist, Deen.” I sank into the chair, an ache stabbed through my skull. My eyes met hers. “Nothing can go wrong with tonight. Not after everything.” She blinked, then sat beside me, “Something’s wrong? Why do you look like that?” I swallowed the lump in my throat, the ache behind my eyes sharpening. “It’s nothing, Deen. We just need a new pianist. Fast.” “Okay.” She pulled me into a hug. “My wolf can tell something's off with you. But let’s go through this show first.” I held onto her tightly and closed my eyes. God knew I needed this hug. “Ball room dance performer?” A knock broke us apart. “You’re up next.” Clawdeen patted my back like a big sister. “Don't worry about anything once you’re over there. I'll find someone to play for you, okay?” “Thank you, Deen.” I meant every word. “None of this would be possible without you.” “And Dylan too.” My heart clenched. Dylan and Clawdeen were the only werewolves who never once treated me like just some ordinary human. They were the reason any of this was even possible. Maybe Dylan was ever meant to just be my helper, and not a lover. “Em, Deen, did you know that Dylan…” “Let's gossip after the show.” She left the backstage in a hurry, and the moment she was gone, my knees gave out beneath me. I really did love Dylan. God knew I did. But why today? His moans, my family’s disapproval, the laughter I'd endured from the queen bees every time I practised — it all flashed before my face. Would I succeed? A human, in a werewolf city, daring to perform the dance her family was exiled for. Would anyone believe in me? Clawdeen had given so much for this. Risking her own family's anger, who'd already warned her to stop associating with a human. Could I ever be able to repay her by winning? And Dylan…? “Get ready.” Clawdeen banged on the door. “I found you a pianist.” I slowly stood and wiped my face clean. For Clawdeen, I would try. I had to even if I had to put everything on the line. Which I already did. Each step toward the stage felt wrong. Humans existed in this pack. Ballet wasn't a sin here. But for an Othello, it was an abomination. Werewolves laughed as I passed. A cuss or two got thrown at Clawedeen too, the way it always did. But neither of us stopped. She held my hand all the way to the stage, then let go and stepped back. The new pianist gave me a small nod. The lights dropped. I let out a long sigh. My father and my brothers were here tonight. Whatever might happened, I must not disgrace them. Dad would hate me for this, but not trying would hurt worse than his anger ever could. I opened my eyes. The spotlight was on me and the audience beyond it dissolved into darkness — like I was the only one in the room. I lifted my chin and began my dance. The pianist didn't quite match my rhythm; we'd never rehearsed together, but better than none. My eyes caught Dylan standing between the curtains, watching me. I looked away and focused on my dance instead. Tonight would decide my fate as a ballerina. Looking at him would only complicate things. “A ballerina, from Othello family?” someone in the crowd laughed. “Here to carry on your family’s dead legacy?” I didn't let that stop me even though that reminder hit a spot on my chest. The spotlight shifted briefly, and the first face I found was my father’s, then my twin brother's, then my older brother's. All three looked furious. I only got stronger and more determined to continue. The tutu was light and my pointe shoes balanced on my legs as I twirl and twist. I raised my legs to the air, did the octopus style and even the queen of the night dance, just like my Aunt Celeste had done it. Clawedeen’s proud grin from the side steadied me more than the music ever could. Slowly, the laughter shifted into something else — a round of thunderous ovation and whistles. I pushed harder, going for the final sequence, just one more step from achieving my aim and winning my father's trust… one more step until I shut down all the rumors about my family make the bullies gag on my success — Fate again, threw me a slap on the face. I felt pain shot through my veins. What is happening? I tried to turn, but the pain only sharpened, my stance broke and I fell. Gasps rippled through the crowd. I tried pushing myself on my other foot, hoping it might pass as part of the routine — but the pain hit there too, sharp and precise, right beneath the toenail. “What happened to you?” My pianist reached me before Clawdeen did. My shoe was already soaked through with blood. Clawdeen and the show moderator rushed over, the spotlight still locked on me, merciless. “Rhoda, are you okay?” Clawdeen’s voice cracked. I looked up at her, tears blurring my vision. “Did I just fall?” I shook my head, horrified, as she carefullly worked the shoes off my bruised, bleeding toes. “No…I can't fall. Not now.” I tried to push myself up. “I must complete my dance.” Clawdeen held me down. “You're hurt, Rhoda. Stop.” “Someone turn the lights off!” “There’s a needle in the shoe!” Clawdeen gasped, eyes wide. “You can't dance another second in these. Let's get you out of here.” I was sobbing now. “No. I can dance in another shoes. I can't leave.” “Stop it, Rhoda!” That snap was quick and final. I felt stripped, sitting there in front of the entire school and the whole werewolf community like a failure, laid bare. My father sat frozen. I couldn't read his exact expression but one thing was evident: disgrace. Rhodes and Ricco, my brothers shoved through the crowd toward me. I knew right then, that this was the end of everything I'd spent years hiding. “No. I'm not going back home. Don't touch me, Ricco, I won't…” My body went limp before I could finish. Even if I’d wanted to run, my legs wouldn't let me. Rhodes and Ricco reached me and, despite my pleading, pulled me away from the stage. “Let me go back, please.” I sobbed into Ricco's arms, but he was stronger than my resistance. The same queen bees I'd hoped I would prove wrong took pictures of me and laughed. Dylan stood in the crowd too. A smirk crossed his face, and beside him, his boyfriend winked at me then lifted a small needle between two fingers. The needle glinted under the stage lights. My stomach dropped. It was him. He’d helped me for three years, only to destroy it with one small needle.