“We don’t have to go back yet,” she tells me, leaning back against the wall rather than taking a seat. “They’ll come looking for us if we’re gone too long, but it’s only been a few minutes.”
More alone time? Don’t have to tell me twice.
“We should soak up all the conversation we can have before Nadya comes back,” I agree conspiratorially. “She might try to get more money out of me, or some blood if her father has anything to do with it.”
“Not funny.” She pouts.
She doesn’t like the idea of me hurt.
Why is that so exciting? It should be obvious that she wouldn’t enjoy that.
Anya wouldn’t want to see anyone hurt, let alone one of her friends.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, sincerely wanting to know.
“I’m okay,” she says, looking down as she answers. “It’s a lot, but yeah…I don’t really know.”
Seeing the immediate change in her tone, I almost wish I hadn’t asked.
“I can leave,” I offer almost reluctantly. “If tonight has been a little too much and you want some time alone…I won’t mind if you need me to go.”
“N-no.” Anya shakes her head as the word tumbles out of her and she looks back up at me almost pleadingly. “I’m doing okay, honestly. Tonight has been a lot, but I don’t feel bad. I—It’s been nice.”
Relief has my shoulders relaxing and my smile lifting. “That’s good to hear. I’m kind of afraid that when I leave, Lev is going to follow me back to my hotel room and stare at me all night while I sleep to be honest.”
A startled laugh bubbles up and she catches it, covering her mouth with her hand. “He wouldn’t. You paid for Nadya’s allyship, remember? She’ll have to make sure he behaves.”
I snap my fingers, pointing to her with a grin. “You’re right. I’ll have to have faith in her.”
“I can’t believe they just stayed with you until it was time to come over.” Anya sighs, tapping her fingers against the wall behind her nervously. “They’re so strange, I’m sorry.”
“Strange,” I echo, chuckling. “Yeah, that’s a fitting word. I almost expected more violence than menacing stares and silence, but it hasn’t been so bad.”It’s been worth it to see you.
“God, I hope it’s never violent.” She bites her lip, worrying. I catch sight of the action and my stomach goes warm, almost hot. “I don’t know if I could forgive Uncle Lev if he hurt you for no reason.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’d have a reason,” I joke, rolling my eyes. “Like my face being too smug or my breathing being too loud, or something equally offensive to the man.”
“Those aren’t good reasons at all,” she mumbles, frowning. “I’m sorry that coming to visit me comes with so much hostility.”
“Are you kidding?” I shake my head, wishing that I could reach out and comfort her. Maybe hold her hand or cup her face. “I’d deal with a lot worse to see you, Anya. Besides, we’re both dealing with some difficulty to make this happen, aren’t we? You’re overcoming much more struggle than I am. I feel like I should have to go three or four rounds in the ring with your dad just to earn the amount of effort you’re putting in to seeme.”
“It—” she breathes out, eyes softening. “It hasn’t been as difficult as I expected, honestly. A lot of my anxiety and PTSD symptoms have come with anticipating the worst and suffering in that anticipation rather than actually experiencing the worst. When you’re healing and medicated, and you’re doing the work, a lot of the bad stuff is simply expecting the bad stuff. At least for me, I’ve found.”
“Jade has said something similar before,” I confess, feeling my heart ache at the memory. “That it isn’t always bad things are going to happen, but the fear that theymightthat can be just as painful.”
“Yeah,” Anya agrees, voice going soft. “I do want to meet her, you know? I think we’d have a lot in common.”
“You would,” I confirm without a hint of doubt. “But not just painful things from your pasts. You’re both smart, funny, caring, and passionate. You both like girly stuff, although she’s more of a pink than a purple girl—she and Rayna have that in common, apparently. I have no doubt you’d get along when you’re ready to make that step.”
“I like pink too,” Anya offers with a soft smile. “It’s just not as calming and safe, I think. I used to wear it all the time, though. Pink is very ballet. The shoes, the tutus, the tights.”
“I’ll bet they make all of those in purple, though,” I point out, tilting my head. “If you ever wanted to try again.”
“I don’t know.” Anya looks down at her hands, twirling her fingers absently. “It’ll never be the same. I don’t know if I’d be able to do a whole routine without needing an inhaler now.”
“So, don’t do a full routine,” I suggest as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. Quickly realizing that she’s probably considered that before, I mentally smack my own head and backtrack. “Shit, that wasn’t helpful, was it? Ignore me, I don’t know anything about ballet or dancing at all, really. But I imagine if I had a passion I would be pretty disgruntled to never be able to do it the same way again.”
“No, it’s okay,” she says, not at all sounding offended. “Honestly, it’s not that bad of a suggestion. I…I wish I saw ballet that way—as just my passion. Nadya sees it that way, it’s fun for her. It’s where she sees her friends and where she gets to be creative. But it was always more than that for me. Like a lifelong career or, I don’t know, my purpose. I was constantly trying to improve, to be the best. And knowing that I’ll be forever limited if I try again is hard.”
