Rival: A Feuds Novella (The Feuds Series) (8 page)

Davis had created the mash-up of jazz, hip-hop, and indie rock the night before; then she’d layered it on top of a cut from Wagner’s famous
Ring Cycle.
Somehow, the music came together in one addictive cacophony: fast, angry, and dangerously beautiful. Davis had always relied on precision, accuracy, and the product of hard work. This time, she was going off book.

She was going to improvise.

She let go, funneling her emotions—the feelings that had built within her over the last few days—into the furious mood of the music. She twisted and turned, letting the music seep into her, consuming her, moving her body as though it controlled her. Her body pushed further than it ever had; she leapt higher and farther, spun faster and in more rotations, bent and released her body fluidly, making it all look natural—because in that moment, it was. It was the natural outpouring of rage, a feeling she’d only just learned how to express. Against the background of the audience’s gasps, Davis felt more human—yet more euphoric—than ever before. She was transforming anger into something beautiful.

And then, a crazy thing happened. She felt it.

She felt her mom, watching, from somewhere. Or maybe inside her, guiding her. Energy soared through her veins. She was powerful. She was free.

She had done it.

Finally, it was over, and Davis walked a breathless
pas marché
before sinking into a deep curtsey. There was a long silence. All she could hear and feel was the heaving of her own rib cage. She was afraid to look up, afraid she’d made a mistake after all.

Then a single set of hands began to clap. Davis raised her head, catching Fia’s eye. She was standing on her chair, clapping and beaming. Seconds later, the rest of the audience burst into tremendous applause. Davis scanned the audience through the blinding glare of the stage lights, seeing them rise to their feet—first one by one, then in waves.

Davis straightened as the lights began to dim, signaling the next performer. But the applause and whistles and ovation didn’t stop. Davis spotted Seth, whose face was blank and shell-shocked. She blew him a kiss, winking facetiously. She didn’t care anymore about what he’d done. She’d released it all by following her instincts. She realized with a jolt that her own instincts were what would vault her to greater heights.

And just then, she was feeling a very strong instinct. She hopped off the stage with an energetic polonaise … right over to the front row of the audience, where Vera and Fia sat. Laughing, she pulled them both into a fierce hug and sat down next to them to watch one last performance: Gaby’s.

Watching Gaby perform beautifully, Davis caught a glimpse of Seth in her periphery. His face was dark—stony. Davis almost laughed. She’d have bet money that Gaby had given Seth what he deserved. Soon after, Gaby took her bows to her own thunderous applause. The showcase was over.

No matter what the official vote turned out to be, Davis knew she’d won.

Author photograph by: Charles Grantham

AVERY HASTINGS
is an author and former book editor from New York City. Avery grew up in Ohio, graduated from the University of Notre Dame and earned her MFA from The New School. When she’s not reading or writing, Avery can usually be found in the park with her affable dog. Like her protagonists in
Feuds,
she knows how to throw a powerful right hook and once dreamed of becoming a ballerina. In addition to New York, Avery has lived in Mumbai and Paris, but is happy to call Brooklyn home (for now). Sign up for email updates
here
.

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Cover

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

About the Author

Copyright