Page 147 of Facing Off
Sid’s hands are out.
I stare at them blankly, until they grab me themselves.
We spin around. Their gap-toothed smile is completely visible. Cheeks are flushed, curls bounce out of their braid, and their sweater flaps behind like a comical cape. Sid’s young and energetic and delighted.
We spin and spin and spin more.
And I’m dizzy with this double vision of me at that age. Sid and I would’ve been complete opposites. We don’t look the same at all. I wasn’t laughing in ballet class. I was somberly focused, seeking instructors to give me guidance. I wanted rules. Parameters to follow, so that once I met them, I would be patted on the head, and paid attention to, and given feedback. I could earn praise and measure myself by that praise. It gave me an avenue to be seen. A way to try and feel in control.
But was it ever fun?
I can’t remember. All I know is that right now both sides of my mouth lift up. There are bubbles lofting inside me wanting to be released. It suddenly doesn’t matter if none of these are proper moves or if I might fall over the very next second. I don’t care if anyone is watching or not. I’m boundless. Free. And I can’t physically reach back in time and hug the child I once was, but silly dancing with Sid and making them laugh, somehow it feels like I am.
“You’re so right,” I say with awe. “Thisisfun.”
Everyone joins in.
58
SONYA
Streetlightsand dense green trees bracket the road, and music from the radio plays in the background. Adrian is driving, and he has one hand resting on my thigh. I’m leaning into the touch, content in an exhausted way. We’re both the good kind of drained, where so many of our emotions were wrung out and have now melted away.
Traffic is light, so the drive back to Vancouver takes an hour and a half. Neither Adrian or I say much. It’s precious downtime, being together like this without needing to say anything.
I want it to last forever, but too soon Adrian stops his car in front of my apartment building. It’s almost one in the morning. He has to leave for the airport in less than five hours. He should go home to rest as much as he can, and yet…
He hasn’t let go of my thigh. Nobody has said goodbye. I have a feeling we’re both thinking about when we’ll see each other next.
I have to barricade myself in the studio, that’s how much practicing needs to get done before my audition. Asfor him, after Edmonton, the Wings fly to San Jose. Then to Las Vegas.
“Are you tired?” I whisper, glancing over.
Fatigue-heavy eyes are already locked on me, watching. “Nope.”
He’s fully lying.
Not that I blame him for doing that, because I’m also not ready for this night to end either. Maybe…
“I know you’ve got an early flight, but did you want to come up?—”
His seatbelt is undone so quickly, and in a blink of an eye, he’s turned off his car. My mouth twitches as he gets out and jogs over to my side. Before I have a chance to move, Adrian opens the door for me. His hand is right there, waiting. I take it, and we walk into my building.
Farim isn’t at his desk, so I lead Adrian straight to the elevator. The doors open as soon as I press the button. It’s empty. We step inside. The doors close.
Usually I don’t watch the numbers lighting up, one by one, but tonight, I am. He’s also watching, his chest rising heavily up and down. Still we don’t talk.
Seven floors up, but I feel like I’m falling.
The elevator chirps, letting us know we’re here. We step out and turn to the right. I dig out my keys, but my hands aren’t cooperating.Shit. I should be embarrassed.
“Let me.” His voice is strained. He takes the keys from my hand. I notice his hands aren’t exactly steady either, but he’s motivated to get the door unlocked.
The door swings open, revealing the cozy darkness of my apartment. My entryway is wide and the floor plan is open in a way where you see a lot at once. Like the dim outline of furniture pushed to the side for a dance floor mat, my overstuffed duffle bag, and pointe shoes dangling from hooks and lying on the floor. There’s alingering floral smell from the black tea I brewed but never drank.
I don’t know who reaches out. Whether his hand finds my waist or mine brushes against the back of his arm—but that’s all it takes.
My back hits a wall, but I barely register the impact because Adrian is lifting me up, and I’m wrapping my legs around him. My nipples peak as his mouth devours mine. I’m threading my fingers through his hair, sucking on his tongue.
