Chapter 5
Aurora
The Parc des Buttes-Chaumont is indeed as enchanting as my guidebook claims. But despite its dreamy evening atmosphere, it can't distract me from the heavy feeling in my stomach. I stroll down a densely overgrown alley toward a green lake, where the reeds sway gently in the wind. The breeze does little to counter the unusually intense heat of May.
I reach for my phone and dial Vico's number. It rings only once.
"Hey." His tone carries so much warmth that it instantly makes me feel better. "How did it go today?"
With my gaze fixed on the gravel path beneath my canvas shoes, I hold the phone to my other ear. "Just like yesterday," I say in a weary tone. "And the day before. It's always the same. Enzo and I keep making mistakes."
My brother's silence lasts too long. He's probably so shocked that he can't find the right words. In the background, a chair scrapes across the floor. "I don't believe that," he finally says.
I can't help but let out an ironic sigh. "The rumba was a disaster, and the quickstep was okay at best." He knows what that means without me explaining it to him, so I leave it at that. It's bad enough that I'm acting like a complete beginner here.
"And what happens next?" He sounds tired.
With my fists clenched, I raise my chin and look all the way down the alley to where the tree canopies thin out. Where everything continues and gets brighter. "It's not over yet. We will fight until the last dance step." I couldn't think of anything else ever.
Even though I can't see my brother, I'm sure he's now smiling to himself. "No one deserves to be accepted into this academy more than you."
"Yes." I swallow hard. Vico doesn't say it out loud, but we both know what his words imply.
He clears his throat. "Tomorrow is the motivational interview. Do you feel ready?"
Thinking about sitting in front of the jury tomorrow makes me queasy. Nevertheless, I will do my best and even look directly at the man with the beacon eyes.
Maxime. That's his name.
Smiling, I stroll toward the stone bridge, which shimmers in a reddish-gold hue under the afternoon sun. "I'm going to blow him away."
"You mean the jury, right?" my brother asks.
Did I say anything else? "Yes, of course," I reply hastily.
"You will." It's just two short words, but I can hear Vico's pride. "And the day after tomorrow, you'll dance the mambo like Baby in the grand finale ofDirty Dancing."
What an image! "The jury will give a standing ovation." I giggle, and Vico joins in.
For a while, we outdo each other with increasingly absurd ideas of how I could impress the jury. We laugh as if we were the mischievous children of the past, plotting one prank after another together.
"We haven't done this in far too long," I say wistfully between two laughs.
Suddenly, there's silence on the other end of the line. "Mm-hmm," he finally utters, and I wonder if it's because he doesn't know what to say or if he's no longer able to speak.
I stop in the middle of the bridge and gaze over the surface of the lake, where the outlines of the surrounding trees reflect so clearly, as if it were a mirror. A wooden boat drifts under the bridge. Gentle ripples spread in circles, gently swaying the water lilies in the cove.
Vico doesn't say anything, just breathes in and out heavily.
I wait until the boat has drifted far enough away from me and the water surface is still again before me. "Every storm eventually comes to an end; we just can't let it defeat us," I say earnestly.
Vico doesn't respond.
"And everything it has destroyed, we can rebuild afterward," I add.
Seconds of silence pass, and then he lets out a long breath. "We will."
I know that the smile that now flits across my face is infused with melancholy. Nevertheless, it's a smile, and that's what matters. "We'll talk again tomorrow, okay?"
