“That first year I think there were only twenty of us,” he went on, ignoring her retort. “From all over New South Wales, including a few other boys from the country. Talk about a building full of hormones. We were all gangly and pimply and we all had huge chips on our shoulders, especially the country boys, because we put up with so much shit at school for dancing. Everyone assumed we were gay, and they didn’t take kindly to gay kids in those days. I think that program was a real eye-opener for a lot of us. Made us feel a bit less freakish. I’d never met another boy who did ballet until that summer. By the second day, I knew I wanted to go back every year, just to get away and to feel like I was normal for a few weeks.”
“Did you? Go back?”
“I didn’t have to. At the end of the summer they brought in some people from the ANB school, and they handed out a few full-time scholarships. I got one. So I went home to Springwood, packed up my things, came back to Sydney, and stayed all year. Only went home for Christmas and Easter breaks after that.”
“Did your parents mind letting you go?”
He leaned back in his seat and glanced over at her, as though he was deciding how much more to tell her. Frankly, she was surprised she’d gotten this much out of him, relentless or not. After yesterday, though, a wall seemed to have come down.
“It’s complicated,” he said after a moment, and she made a buzzer sound.
“Errrhhhh, try again.”
He gave her a rueful smile, as if she’d responded just as he’d expected. But when he spoke, there was no levity in his voice. “Honestly, I think they were relieved. I’d been pretty miserable at school, and I think Miss Rosemary explained to them that there was only so far I could go at a little local dance studio. And I was so eager to go, I didn’t give much thought to what it would mean in the long term.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean?” Stalling again. She stared back at him, waiting, with a stony expression that she hoped saidnice try, but do better.
“I mean I haven’t lived with my parents since I was a kid. I barely went home, and they had my little sister to look after, so they didn’t visit very often.”
“Ah, so you’re a big brother,” Carly couldn’t help but smile. Imperious, always right, exasperated, protective even when he was exasperated. Of course he was a big brother.
“Yeah. Nina. She’s four years younger than me, so I haven’t lived with her since she was ten. After school, I went straight to Europe, and I’ve been there ever since. They’re still in Springwood, in the same house. I come home when I can, but there’s so much of my life they weren’t there for and that they don’t understand. And that makes things … complicated.”
“When are you seeing them?”
Nick paused. “I’m not sure. I might—” he checked his mirrors again and changed lanes, preparing to exit the highway.
“You might what?” she asked.
“I might not see them. I haven’t told them I’m home.”
“Yet,” she said.
“What?”
“You haven’t told them you’re home yet. You’re going to tell them, right? You came all this way.”
“I came all this way for Marcus,” he said stiffly, and she widened her eyes.
“You’re not going to go home and see them?”
There was another pause. “It’s—”
“Complicated, right,” Carly finished. “So you’ve said.”
He cut her a sharp look across the car as he took the exit, pulling them onto a two-lane road, but he didn’t contradict her. There was something he wasn’t telling her—yet—that much was obvious. Still, she decided not to press any further and busied herself with looking out the window at the new landscape. The road crossed over a narrow winding river that was dotted with speedboats and even a few crew teams, and then it began to climb.
“What about you? Where’s home for you?” Nick asked a few minutes later. Carly’s ears had just popped.
“Depends on who you ask,” she replied, leaning forward to fiddle with the air-conditioning.
“I’m asking you.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and in response he gave her a remarkably accurate impression of hernice tryface.
“New York City is home. Born and raised, and I’ll probably die there, too. I live downtown, in Chinatown, in a crappy little apartment that I love and that my parents hate.”
He raised his eyebrows curiously. “And where do your parents think you should live?”
