“Do you want to be a heartbreaking romantic tragedy that fractures because you refused to talk to each other?”Her voice is breathy and melodramatic.
“No.”And mine sounds like a petulant child.I’m sulking because I know she’s right.But how do I do this?Talk to him in a way that will make him want to talk back.Sounds pathetic when I think about it.In my defense, we’ve always had this connection without words.Words never felt necessary because we always just understood.But we obviously didn’t.Otherwise, we’d have been together six years ago.
Maybe we weren’t meant to be together then.Maybe that was when we would’ve been too fragile.And we needed these years to create this bond that can never be broken.Or maybe I’m unwilling to face the truth.
We need to talk.
“He’s calling me tonight.”I’ll just straight-out ask him if we’re a couple.I groan and flop back against the pile of repurposed dance costumes behind me.That sounds so stupid.
“Oh, wow.You’ve made so much progress.”
I startle back to sitting.Nina stands in the doorway of the costume room, appraising our work with a smile.
“We’re nearly done,” Danika reports, holding up her costume for inspection, making sure the gems are spaced evenly.
“This is wonderful.Truly.”Nina looks to me.I smile back.We offered to repurpose tutus for the upcoming showcase, and Nina loved the idea of promoting substantiality.I didn’t realize what I was committing to at the time.“The studio is free for you now.”
“Go ahead,” Danika tells me.“I’ll finish up here.There’s only a few left.”
I stand, stretching my stiff legs.“Thanks.”
“Call me,” Danika says before I can leave.
I nod and follow Nina into the hall.
“Place the key in the office before you go.You may be closing up tonight.Are you okay with that?The door will lock automatically behind you.”
“That’s fine,” I tell her, taking the studio key from her.
I’m already in my dance leotard, so I can take advantage of every second of studio time now that it’s available.I grab my bag from beneath the bench in the hall and say goodnight to Nina before entering.I inhale the scent of polish, hardwood and magic.
My shoulders naturally relax, and calm sweeps over me.Plugging my iPod into the audio outlet for the speakers, I select the playlist and begin preparing my feet to slip into the pointes.
I spend the next two hours in a blur of glissades, jetés and pirouettes.I requested an hour.But knowing I’m the only one here, I take advantage.I dance until my muscles burn with a blissful ache.And my skin is shimmering with sweat.I’m glowing with elation when I fold over my extended leg on the floor, my heart beating as fast as a hummingbird’s.Nothing makes it react this way.Well, almost nothing.
Jonathan’s never seen me dance.He and Collin have asked, but after being denied year after year, they stopped asking.It’s not that I’m embarrassed.When I dance, I’m transported.I live within the movements.Float between the notes.And if I knew Collin and Jonathan were sitting in the audience, I’m afraid I’d be so preoccupied with their attendance, I’d lose that magic.I’m too afraid to risk it.
That’s what I always thought about Jonathan as well, before we kissed this summer.I didn’t want to risk us.And I’m still deciding if that was the right choice.If it’s changed us too much.That’s not saying that kissing him is torture.Far from it!But we haven’t been the same since.And I miss how easy it was to be us.
Where have you been?”my mother asks before I can close the door.
“At the studio.I told you this morning.”I hang my jacket and drop my bag on the floor.
“But you were supposed to be home an hour ago.”
I falter in my steps when I see the elaborate table setup.Crap.I forgot we were having Dad’s partners over for dinner tonight, as a sort of send-off before his campaigning begins.
“Hurry up and change.They’ll be here soon.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.I completely forgot.”I sweep a quick kiss across her cheek as I bustle by, racing to my room.
I don’t have time to shower, so I wash my face, keep my hair in a neat bun on the top of my head and throw on a dress, not bothering with makeup.At this point in my life, having experienced way too many dinners, I know I’m just decoration.An accessory.Not more useful than a clutch purse.Something that makes the outfit, holds a few essentials, but doesn’t have any real function.
The two other partners and their wives are already in the sitting room with glasses of wine when I come back downstairs.As if my presence is the cue they’ve been waiting for, Magda whispers to my mother, who announces dinner’s ready.
Magda gives me a small smile, knowing what this is like for me.She’s been working for my family my entire life—actually before I was born.She knows everything.Or pretty close.I honestly wouldn’t want to know half of what she’s witnessed over the years.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Sadie,” Jocelyn says, her face tight and lips swollen from whatever treatment she recently had done.“You look so grown up.Makes me feel old.”
