Page 34 of On Dancer
“How did you guess?” Some of his frantic energy draining away, Rudy sank onto the folding chair next to me.
He wore one of his nicer sweaters over a dress shirt, the green of the sweater making golden flecks come alive in his eyes. I was in my warm-ups since I didn’t need to be in costume again for several hours, and my lucky sweatshirt with a fraying cuff from a decade prior felt a bit shabby next to his professional attire.
“We had enough rehearsal time that I could tell she was off her game at the matinee.” The company dancer was a professional to her core, so she’d worked hard to cover whatever ailed her, but one couldn’t lie as easily to a partner. She’d been tight the entire pas de deux, gritting out each movement with none of her typical ease. “Also, anyone could see she was looking more than a little green.”
“Yes, well, green has turned into pale and dehydrated. Food poisoning, she thinks, which is good because the last thing we need is illness spreading.” Rudy thumped his head against the wall behind us. “Irina is trying to convince her to go to the ER for fluids, but no way can she go on tonight.”
Touching him grew more dangerous by the day, yet I couldn’t keep from patting his thigh. Attraction aside, my friend was distraught, and I wanted to offer what comfort I could.
“Have you called Victoria yet?” I asked.
“Yes, she went to lunch, but she was on her way back for the evening show.” Rudy exhaled hard. For the public shows, the plan had been for Victoria to dance other parts, allowing Cheryl to assume the Sugar Plum Fairy role, but now Victoria’s own understudies would undoubtedly be summoned. “She’s nervous, of course, but she did fabulous for the school show yesterday. We have to hope she can do the part again under the brighter lights tonight.”
My back muscles felt not unlike a tutu—quilted together into an unnatural stiffness. I preferred not to think about the school show. I pursed my lips.
“Yes, that was quite the success for everyone.”
“What do you mean?” Setting aside his clipboard, Rudy turned in his chair so he could better peer at me.
“That teacher seems rather taken with you.” There was no point in either of us playing dumb. My inability to cover my reaction was enough of a tell, as was Rudy’s intent expression.
“He asked me for coffee.” Rudy’s voice took on a confessional edge.
“Ah. That’s what he wants you to think about.” I’d suspected as much. No way was I going to admit that I’d wasted precious sleep time last night mulling over the snippet of interaction I’d witnessed. Enough to tell Mr. Davis had a crush on Rudy. And who could blame the guy? Rudy was smart, kind, good with all the kids, and cute. Of course Mr. Davis had made a play. “Are you going to go?”
“Should I?” Rudy’s stare turned more pointed.
“Why are you asking me?” If he could ask hard questions, so could I, but I regretted the retort as soon as Rudy raised his eyebrows.
“Because you look like you just smelled some rotten garbage, and you keep clenching your fists like you have an opinion.”
“I shouldn’t.” I stared down at my hand rather than meet his gaze.
“But you do.” Rudy leaned in, shoulder brushing mine. “Ask me to say no, Alexander.”
“I can’t be what you need.” If I turned my head, we’d be face-to-face, a millimeter from kissing, which was a wonderfully terrible prospect that kept me flexing and turning my hands.
“You could try asking me what I need instead of assuming.” Rudy was so close that his breath wafted across my cheek. I had stacks of ballet reviews praising my body control and poise, my ability to make each small muscle do my bidding at exactly the right moment. Despite all that mastery, my head acted of its own accord, tilting toward Rudy.
The small movement was apparently precisely what he’d been waiting for as he brushed a tentative kiss across my lips. And rather than pull away, I kissed him back with nearly three weeks of longing. The time since Thanksgiving week seemed eons long, yet not nearly enough time to forget the softness of his lips or the sweetness of his little gasp.
“Oh! Oops.” Victoria made a high-pitched startled noise that would be comical under other circumstances. Luckily, she was alone without her watchful mother or, worse, Tavio or Irina to witness my lapse in judgment. Victoria went up on the balls of her feet as if to pirouette away. “I can…uh…come back in a few.”
“No, you’re fine.” I waved a hand as if that could make the kiss disappear. “We’re done.”
“For now.” Rudy shot me an ominous glare before turning his attention to Victoria. “Glad you made it back. Your readiness to go on is the only thing keeping this show together.”
In actuality, Rudy was the thing keeping the show together, but I kept the praise to myself as Victoria gave a nervous twitter.
“Miss Margie said the show is sold out.” Victoria’s eyes cast about like a sailboat searching for a landing spot.
“It is.” Rudy gave her the sort of encouraging smile he was so good at. “The TV segment seems to have done the trick for ticket sales along with a little luck.”
“Okay.” Victoria sucked in a breath, air whistling between her clenched teeth before she made a visible effort to settle herself. She rolled her shoulders up and back, neck elongating into a posture worthy of the Sugar Plum Fairy. “Okay. I can do this.”
“You can.” Rudy stood so he could give her a quick brotherly sort of one-armed hug. “You’ve got this. Merde. Let me know if either of you needs anything else.”
And with that, he was gone.Him.I needed him, not that I’d ever admit it. I took my own deep breath as Tavio, Irina, and Victoria’s mother all descended upon us to go over the changes. Double performance days like this were exhausting, made more so by the cast change and Victoria wanting some additional rehearsal to center herself back into the role. Tavio allowed her to go over a few of the lifts and pirouettes, but like me, he was trying to prevent Victoria from overthinking her readiness.
