Page 24 of On Dancer
“I thought we were becoming friends.” I stepped closer, daring to tap him in the center of his chest. The contact sizzled along with my words. “I want my friend back. I miss you, crankiness over aging and all.”
“I don’t want to lead you on.” Alexander turned away, moving to rack the balls in the center of the table rather than face me. “Or hurt you.”
I made a frustrated noise. “You’re hurting me more by avoiding me.”
“I’m sorry. I never should have kissed you. I made a mess of everything.” Alexander’s seemingly genuine regret only succeeded in making all my prior irritation return. I was not some kid who needed protecting.
“Why not? We’re both single, consenting adults. Why not kiss?” I shrugged like it had all been a grand experiment, not the single hottest experience of my whole life. That I wanted a repeat went without saying, but I wanted an end to the tension between us even more.
“Because kissing complicated an otherwise enjoyable friendship.” Alexander plunked the last of the balls in the rack with far more force than necessary. “Like you, I miss our friendship. I also miss the game of all things.”
I allowed myself a small smile at his admission that we were friends and that he missed me. And the game.
“I knew you’d get hooked.” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“It is rather addictive.” He held my gaze so long that I wasn’t sure we were talking aboutOdysseyanymore.
“Then why not resume playing?” My voice came out husky. Want coursed through me. He could deny it all he wanted, but he’d enjoyed our kissing. The memory hung heavy between us.
“Because.” Alexander made a vague motion with his free hand. Deep regret had returned to his eyes, and if I knew one thing from years of game playing, it was when not to overplay my hand.
“You think you’re the first rejection I’ve had?” I tried instead. Convincing him that we should try kissing again could wait in favor of getting him back as a friend and game partner. “Hardly. Like I said, I’m not out to stalk you. If you don’t want to kiss again, I’ll deal.”
“But you’re disappointed,” he said quietly.
“I’ll live.” I made my voice far lighter than I felt. “I’d rather keep you around as a friend than continue this awkward waltz of avoidance we have going on.”
“It is rather tedious.” He hummed a jaunty polka, taking a few plodding steps with his pool stick as a partner.
“Precisely.” I gave him the laugh he was so clearly going for. “You’re only in town a few more weeks. Why not put the time to better use?”
“Why not indeed.” He fetched another pool stick and handed it over like a formal peace offering. “It’s not an orc deck, but perhaps you’d fancy a round?”
“I would.” I nodded, matching his more somber tone before brightening. “And speaking of your bloodthirsty ways, there’s no play group tomorrow night because of the holiday, but I’ve tweaked the shark deck with some new cards that arrived.”
“I suppose we could make a game of it.” Alexander was back to his usual guarded enthusiasm, which I happily welcomed.
“Good.” I grinned, deliberately widening my eyes so he’d see I was truly pleased.
It wouldn’t do for him to see any lingering sadness on my part. I’d won back his friendship. My wounded heart could wait.
Thirteen
Adagio:a slow solo (either alone or as the beginning of a pas de deux) designed to showcase the dancer’s extension, grace, and strength.
Alexander
“Oops.” Victoria stumbled into me rather than performing a graceful spin as choreographed. Her face fell as Tavio stopped the music. “Sorry.”
“Victoria. Where is your head?” Tavio’s scolding was no harsher than most directors I’d worked with. His tone was more gently prodding than genuinely irritated. “And don’t say here in this studio. You’ve been a million miles away all rehearsal.”
“Sorry. I guess I’ve got too much on my mind.” Shoulders slumping, Victoria stepped away to take a sip of her water bottle. “Auditions for summer intensives are coming up, and while I’ve got something of a promise from one program, I still have to prepare other auditions just in case. Meanwhile, I’ve gotmidterms coming up, papers due before break, and a best friend who’s acting all kinds of weird.”
“That’s a lot.” I made my tone sympathetic to show I wasn’t harboring hard feelings about her being distracted. It was the day after Thanksgiving. She was allowed an off evening. Better tonight than closer to the performance.
“How did you do it when you were my age?” Victoria sized me up with a shrewd gaze, making me feel eons older. Somewhere in my brain, Rudy’s Thanksgiving lecture echoed, reminding me that growing older was a privilege and not all bad. Accordingly, I managed a small smile as Victoria continued, “Tell me there’s some trick to compartmentalizing.”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted as I used the impromptu break to fetch my own water bottle and check the state of my T-shirt, which I’d switched right before we’d started rehearsal. I wished I had some secret to share other than the fact that I’d had no life beyond ballet for over two decades. “I’ve always been a bit…hyperfocused.”
