Page 43 of Forbidden Dance
I head into Studio 4, the one with the Dance of the Shades, because it is officially my favorite. I met Blitz here for the first time, and it’s also where he taught me to waltz.
I sit on a stack of mats and change out my tennis shoes for ballet slippers. I wish I had ballroom shoes, but I can’t possibly ask for a pair. Tipping my father off to my dancing with a man would definitely put my ballet work at risk.
Blitz has to know I don’t have much money. It’s obvious in the leotards that I wear over and over again and my worn shoes. This doesn’t seem to matter to him. Maybe it’s even a point in my favor.
I go to the barre and begin a warm-up routine. I really do want to try and get some ballet in before Blitz arrives. The thought that he might get to watch my firstrelevéon toe shoes is a powerful motivation.
Not that he’ll be there that long. As I run through mypliés, I picture the day he drives off in his cluttered red Ferrari, back to LA. My eyes burn, and I flick the back of my hand across my face. I have to stop that.
Blitz is a happy space for me. A temporary reprieve. I can’t think of him as anything else. I’ll go crazy.
“What has the princess so sad?”
I pop up out of myplié. Blitz is here, standing by the door!
“Oh!” I say. “Nothing important.”
He walks up to me and is about to kiss me, when I point at the two-way mirror. “Everyone out there can see us.”
“There’s nobody out there right now,” he says, and presses his lips to mine.
I accept the kiss, but my anxiety is still high. Blitz feels it and pulls away. “Did you know you can defeat a two-way mirror?”
“How?” I ask.
“Well, it only works because it’s so bright in here.” He gestures to the room. “And dimmer out there.” He points to the mirror that is a window to the hall.
“Really?”
He walks over to the light switch. “All you have to do is make it dimmer in here than out there.” He flips off half the lights. “And now it’s equal.”
I can see in the hall now, the mirror turning to glass. “Why did I not know that?” I ask.
“You’ve never had to be sneaky.” He pulls me to the corner, where it is dark and we’re not easily spotted in the wall mirrors on the opposite side, and kisses me again.
This definitely feels forbidden. Sneaking in the academy gives me a thrill I haven’t known for a long time. I’m anxious at first, but as his tongue slides against mine and I taste him, feel him against me, I’m lost.
It’s safe here, things can only go so far. A surge of boldness courses through me and I lift one leg to wrap around his hip. He grabs my outer thighs and pulls both legs around him so that I straddle his waist. He presses me against the wall, his kiss heated and urgent. When my ankles are locked behind his back, he frees up one of his hands and goes straight to my breast.
I gasp, shock waves blasting through me. I can feel him now, erect against me, our dance clothes hiding nothing. For a moment, I’m weightless, floating in a void where there is no academy, no studio, no window, no world. Just Blitz’s hands and mouth and body.
Outside the window, the lights flicker. A transition is starting. There’s no one to move about the hall, but some may come if there is a class in the next session.
Blitz groans and releases me. “We have got to stop doing this here,” he says. “I can’t take it.”
My body is pliant and warm. “Agreed.”
“Can I see you tonight? I want darkness and cover and just you.” His eyes are pleading.
I can’t think of any way to make that happen. My parents. Dinner. Bedtime. Check-ins. My house is a prison.
“My parents are very strict,” I say. “I’ll have to think of something.”
Something flickers across his face. “How old are you, Livia?” he asks. I can tell he’s picturing another scandal, statutory rape or some underage sting operation.
“Nineteen,” I tell him. “Nothing to worry about.”
He releases a rush of air. “Thank God.”
