When the creature spots me behind her, it prances to the side, revealing a spray of ivory peonies. They’re beautiful, delicately shining pale blue in spots where the sunlight reaches them. They remind me of Jax.
He had told me that a Bloom had helped him get back here for solstice. Could it be possible that this was a harbinger? Thevery same one? Of course, I can’t ask the rabbit. That would be crazy, mainly because Lark is standing right here.
My how the threshold for what’snormalhas changed these last few months.
Lark’s brows pinch. She bends down to pick the flowers up and hands them to me without drawing her gaze away from the rabbit.
“Thanks,” she says, and we watch the creature scamper toward the stairs. “Look what somebunny brought you.”
Her tone is teasing, and I can’t help myself from chuckling at her pun, but unease settles through me. Lark talking to an animal doesn’t surprise me at all. I swear she could’ve been a fairy-tale princess in another life, talking to birds and having mice stitch up gowns for her. But I still haven’t told her about Jax. My best friend. The person who has a vintage Ouija board, talks to tiny creatures, and has seen me through my darkest days is the one I’m afraid will judge me most if I tell her the truth. A truth that I still find hard to believe, even as I stare at the peonies bunched between my fingers.
“Looks like there’s a note too,” Lark says, bending down one more time and handing me a thick piece of paper.
“Let me put these inside,” I say, scurrying into the kitchen and getting water into a thin vase. I drop the peonies in it, then flip over the note with a shiny blueJon it. Jax’s words are scrawled in tiny lettering across the glittering parchment in silver metallic ink.
“Better get going, Jojo,” Lark reminds me.
I quickly tuck the note into my dance bag before I can decipher his scribbles and head for the door. Anticipation thrums through me to see what it says, but if I read it now, Lark will be more curious than she already is, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to divulge about Jax and everything that comes with him.
She ushers me outside, locking the door behind me. Should I be more shocked by how not weirded out she’s acting or that I just had a delivery via harbinger post?
We finish descending the stairs and hustling toward the metro center. I am already sweating profusely. My hand comes to my forehead, wiping away a few stray beads of sweat. The sun is nearly blinding at this hour. Just a month ago, it would still be pitch black outside, the streets only illuminated by lamplight on this trek.
“Hold this a sec?” I ask Lark, handing my bag to her and peeling off my sweatshirt before tying it around my waist. She helps me loop it back over my shoulder. The cars are peppered in a thin coating of yellow pollen, and tiny white buds peek from the trees flanking the still-quiet streets. The morning blossoms around us, the sun rising with each step we take.
While it’s been a gradual shift, it hasn’t hit me until today that spring’s officially staked its claim on the city. Winter is over.
The finality of it pinches between my ribs, but the note tucked away in my dance bag reminds me that Jax is still out there and thinking of me, spearing my hope for us a little bit further.
Company class flies by.Before I know it, I’m off to another appointment with Dr. Tanner. I’ve begun to taper off my visits and even told her about Jax at my last one. He’s become such a big part of my life that it’s hard to always skirt around his existence. Not that I give her the full truth. That would probably be a progress-hindering revelation in her eyes.
I’m still counting down until I can read his note. While I technically could have done earlier, I want to savor each scrawled-out word. It’s the first time I’m hearing from him since he left, and something tells me that messenger rabbit isn’t something he’ll be able to utilize frequently, considering the seasons stay mostly separated and he’ll be hibernating.
“How is everything going since we last met?” Dr. Tanner asks, clicking and re-clicking her purple pen. “Did the extra week between appointments feel like a good amount of time or too much? We don’t have to scale back yet if you’re not comfortable.”
“The extra week was great. I didn’t feel the itch to come in sooner, but I have been looking forward to our session.” My heels bounce against the carpet. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I reach into my dance bag, pushing aside my shoes and sweaty clothes from this morning’s company class until I find what I’m looking for. I pass the white-and-black marbled notebook to Dr. Turner, then nod to her. “Open it.”
She does.
She’d made it clear that the journal isn’t for her to evaluate, it’s for my own mind to process and unburden itself, but I wanted to share this moment. I follow her gaze as she flips through the pages in a few fluid motions. Her brows lift from behind her glasses, as if surprised.
“It’s full,” she says, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she hands it back to me. I fan it a few times. It’s funny how light something carrying so much heaviness can be. Months of grief, uncertainty, and healing all in one spot. It’s a strange badge of honor, but the last half filled up quickly since meeting Jax.
“Those wins have been racking up.” She repositions her pen against the clipboard balanced in her lap, eyes darting up to me. “Can you give me an example of your hard work paying off?”
“Well, I found out recently that my name was entered to perform in the Ballet World Summit.” I can’t hold in the giddy smile that bursts from me. “Mistress Maral thinks that if I keep up with the work and represent the company well, I’ve got a shot at promoting. I’ve just started rehearsing the choreography for my solo.”
“What are you dancing?”
“Juliet’s variation fromRomeo and Juliet. The scene where she dances at the ball when Romeo first sees her.”
“That’s amazing, Jolie.”
“I know. I can’t believe it.”
When Mistress Maral brought up Juliet’s variation as an option, it just felt right. A ballet about star-crossed lovers separated by things beyond their control. A love that transcends life and death. I knew right away it was the piece I had to perform.
