Page 180 of Facing Off
It might start off terribly, and it could very well be uncomfortable and suck, but practice helps a lot. And by being genuine about your struggles, you’re also never alone when you overcome them. A squadron of people shows up to root for you.
And when they do, it makes you also want to turn around and root for them. You feel happy when they overcome their struggles, too. Happiness feeds into more happiness, between people who aren’t strangers because you’ve been showing them your true self.
I get on a table. “How long has it been?” I ask.
“How long has what been?” everyone shouts back at me.
“Since we celebrated the Vancouver Wings made the playoffs!”
I don’t know how it’s possible but the volume in the room doubles. Hockey players are losing it. I’m taking it all in but also searching for my refuge from the noise.
I find him standing there, his hand in his pocket, watching me.
Everything fades into the background.
Before he can do it, because he’s always so quick, I shape my fingers into a heart. The corniest of gestures perfect for my corny hockey captain. Something I’d never do for anyone else.
He pretends to be overcome and faint, but just as quickly is there in front of me. Holding his arms open.
I leap into them because I’m his ballerina.
“We can go home whenever you want,” he whispers into my ear.
“Soon,” I whisper back, internally doing some swoon-like fainting of my own. Because he knows me, knows that while I enjoy being here, I’m more introverted than extroverted. I’m only a temporary people person, in doses.
Plus, we’re both looking forward to some alone time. Between my ballet and his hockey, it’s precious to us. There have also been promises over text about how we’re getting extra creative tonight.
There are more memories to make, ones that we’re going to talk about when we’re old and lying awake at night, together in bed.
I can’t wait.
“I love you so much, Sonya darling,” Adrian says, hugging me as if he never wants to let go.
My favorite time to say those words back to him is when he’s inside me, because it always makes him go feral and lose it. That’s going to happen later, but right now, I can’t resist words pulled straight from my not-as-guarded-heart. “I love you more than I can properly talk about, Adrian.”
He grins, looking so happy and like he has everything he’s ever wanted.
Not caring if we have an audience or not, I kiss him,communicating with my mouth how I feel exactly the same way.
I have everything I didn’t know I wanted, and I’m happier than I ever thought possible.
70
ADRIAN
(Two yearslater)
Sonya glows as I swing her in my arms.
The curtain has just come down, the air still humming with applause. The stage is a riot of roses and lilies, bouquets piled in messy, colorful heaps. Gold confetti drifts down from the rafters, sticking to the sweat on her skin. The stage lights have cooled to a softer glow, catching the shimmer of her costume, and the shimmer of her skin.
And for a second, I just hold her there, suspended between all the noise and all the quiet.
God, I couldn’t be fucking prouder!
Everything that Sonya has been through—overcoming her yips, working through exhaustion and helping create the most challenging and unique choreography—has led to this. Her closing night as principal dancer. The last show in this production.
I put her down carefully, her pointe shoes scraping the worn stage floor. She’s still trembling from the adrenaline.
