Page 31 of On Dancer
I’m happy just to sit in awe of your talent, he’d said to me after the reporter’s visit, and I’d lapped up the praise, but now I understood what he’d meant. Rudy was magnificent. He got along with everyone, unlike me, who tended to ruffle feathers without trying. He kept track of minute details effortlessly, whereas I would pass out from tedious questions ten minutes in. We’d been friends for over a month now, and I’d long since known he was one of the smartest people I’d ever met, but his competence today was something altogether different and dangerously appealing.
“Okay. Maybe Rudy is all grown up.” Isabella’s thoughtful tone broke into my admiration. I’d been so transfixed by Rudy I’d almost forgotten she was standing at my elbow.
“He’s a friend.” I didn’t bother trying to pretend I’d been watching anyone else, but I could at least try to keep my revving pulse and sweaty palms to myself. I had other friends, people I could chat easily with, and none of them made my chest feel this full. Proud. I was proud of Rudy in a way I’d never been proud of anyone other than perhaps Isabella.
“So you say,” she said lightly, patting me on the back. “Now get on with warming up before Tavio comes and glares at me next for delaying you.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Chuckling, I headed toward the dressing room reserved for the older male dancers.
“Merde,” Isabella called after me. “Point your toes!”
I removed my coat, but I left my warm-ups on as I worked through my stretches in the wings, muscle memory carrying me through even as my brain whirred and my eyes kept flitting to the stage. Tavio stood some distance from me, deep in discussion with Cheryl. Any moment now, he’d call me to thestage. A full-body tremor raced through me, and I bent forward from the force.
“What’s wrong?” Rudy was instantly at my side. Naturally. The guy was in charge of an entire theater filled with activity, but he knew exactly when I needed him, and here he was.
“Nothing. Everything’s right.” I offered him a small smile, the best I could manage. “I’ve waited almost a year to step onto a stage again, and to have it be this particular stage means more than I can express.”
“It means a lot to us too.” He put a hand on my arm, a warm, firm, steadying pressure, precisely what I needed, and I leaned into his touch as he continued, “Hollyberry is lucky to get to borrow your star power for a weekend.”
Rudy’s eyes were wistful as he gazed at me. The air around us crackled. I wanted to kiss that hint of sadness out of his eyes, wanted to drive all thoughts of my inevitable leaving from both our brains. It meant something that he was here to witness this moment. He’d witnessed my first tentative days back in the studio, and now, he’d share in this weekend too.
I trust you to know your body.Rudy did trust me, even knowing how far I’d come and how much I’d struggled, mentally and physically. He didn’t judge me for those struggles. He trusted me to walk out there and perform as I was able.
I leaned down, smelling his hair. Just one?—
“Alexander!” Tavio summoned me, and the moment burst like a champagne bubble, gone as if it had never been there, but it had, and I was changed for it.
“Go on.” Rudy gave me a gentle push. “Merde.But you don’t need any superstitions. You’ve got this.”
And for the first time in my entire recovery, I truly believed I could do this. I was ready.
Sixteen
Turnout:essential for correct and injury-free execution of all ballet steps; the rotation of the legs from the hips, allowing the feet to face away from the dancer’s front. Requires strength and flexibility in the hips.
Rudy
“I’m not ready.” Victoria arrived at the theater’s back entrance early Friday morning with a rattled expression, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, hair escaping her usually-perfect bun.
“You’re not late.” I ushered Victoria and her mother into the building. “You’ve got plenty of time before the school performance.”
Victoria, along with the other student performers and a few volunteers like Kitty, would miss their morning classes so we could put on the show for the elementary students who would arrive by bus mid-morning. Several members of the media would also be in attendance, including the TV reporter whowanted to update her story in time for more ticket sales for us. Instead of being giddy for the excuse to skip school, though, Victoria carried an air of weariness along with her dance bag and ever-present sticker-covered water bottle.
“I’ve got way more than the ballet going on. You have no idea.” Victoria could reach Alexander-levels of dismay rather easily with shades of Kitty’s vocal acrobatics as well. No one did frazzled quite like a teen girl. “Although todayisonly like one of the biggest days of my whole life.”
“You were born for this moment.” Her mother was of similar build, thin with fine bones and delicate features. Like Victoria, her hair was pulled up, and they wore nearly identical puffy coats.
“I know.” Victoria groaned, skirting dangerously close to the sort of rudeness that would have earned me a rebuke from my mother at her age. She yanked off her gloves before gentling her tone. “I know. I’m trying to find my focus.” She glanced over her shoulder at the door I’d shut behind them. “Leave it all at the door, like Tavio says.”
“Do you want your headphones?” Victoria’s mother was always quick with the offer to help, whether for Victoria or any of the multiple ballet school committees she served on. “There’s still time for me to walk back to the car.”
“Yes, please.” Victoria’s expression softened as her mother darted back out into the cold. Turning back toward me, she flopped her hands helplessly. “I don’t know what todo.”
Victoria could mean anything from the performance to something school or friend-related, but my guess was that her mom’s hovering was also a factor in her distress.
“Your mom loves you. I’ve been around enough dance parents to know how intense it gets before a performance, but she loves you, and she’s going to be proud of you no matterwhat.” I pitched my voice as soothing as possible, but Victoria continued to radiate unhappiness.
“It’s not about my mom. Or not only that.” Victoria closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled on a whisper, “It’s Kitty.”
