Fever

by Tonya Plank

  It literally took two hours to get through those initial rounds, one hour for each. We were definitely going to be here well into the night. Between the first two rounds and the third, there was another, smaller competition, this one for amateur couples thirty-five and over. It was called the senior division, which made me chuckle. In the American competitions, the oldest category, the C division, was for competitors over fifty. And many prima ballerinas with the top companies danced well into their forties! Margot Fonteyn famously danced until she was in her sixties. So to call a thirty-five-year-old a senior was kind of funny to me.

  Sasha was starting to get overwhelmed with fans in the ballroom so we congratulated Svetlana again and headed to the tent for some downtime and snacks. When I got to the tent, I had ample time to read texts and emails.

  Ha! You would not believe how much you stood out, dear! Paulina texted me. All those bazillions of people out there at once and you could make Rory out in heartbeat!

  Thanks! I was worried because it was so crowded we weren’t able to dance full-out, I texted back. So everything was truncated.

  Yeah, but everyone was doing that, she wrote. And you were still REALLY moving—especially in samba. Roll those hips, girl! Swan Lake Samba Girl is no more!

  I laughed. Wow, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

  We saw you despite that crazy crowd! Of course it was hard not to see you with all those cheers and your beautiful ballet body :) :) :), texted Samantha.

  Ah, if only!

  You look awesome, Rajiv wrote.

  The floor was still crowded during round three, but a lot less so. We were able to move much better. My adrenaline started back up and I did my best to do every step, every move, as fully, dramatically, and beautifully as I possibly could to tell a story and entertain the crowd. Amazingly, my nerves were dissipating more and more as the rounds went on.

  Things started moving faster after round five. A lot of couples had, by then, been eliminated and the senior competition had concluded, so there wasn’t as much waiting time between heats. Amazingly, I was actually having fun, the cheers were getting crazier and crazier, and were for both of us now and not just Sasha. And, as tired as my body was getting, my adrenaline was really coming through for me in a big way, driving me more and more so that I was actually getting stronger and faster with each passing round.

  What was so wonderful, though, was that the cheers seemed to be for our partnership—and not just our professional one. At the end of every rumba, Sasha would give me a little kiss on my forehead, and it was getting longer and more pronounced each time. As the rounds progressed, the crowd was coming to expect it and was starting to go crazy before he even did it. I couldn’t believe how supercharged I was, how on fire we both were, how in love we were. What took me so long to become part of this world, I thought? I hadn’t lived until now!

  After about the tenth round, it became clear to me what Sasha had meant about this being an endurance test. Holy crap, I really was getting tired. At the end of every dance, we’d rush off to the tent, and I’d down practically a half bottle of Evian, a banana, and a bag of almonds or walnuts. And suddenly it seemed that each dance was now shorter, that the orchestra wasn’t playing a full song, so that the heats between ours were taking only half the time as before. Sasha said that was just an illusion, though. He could tell I was getting tired, and I could tell he was getting worried.

  “Don’t worry, we just have to get through one more round. Then they will announce the senior winners and have some general dancing for the audience while they compute the scores to decide who will advance to the quarterfinals. It’s an important cut and they’ll take their time on it. We’ll have a good break. And we’ll have another one after the quarterfinals round, into the semifinals, and that’s when we’ll change costumes.” Sasha’s English was so clear and crisp and his grammar and vocabulary impeccable.

  That made me know he was mentally sharp; his nerves and emotions were totally under control. And feeling that sureness from him totally calmed me down. It was going to be okay. If Sasha said it would be, then it would be.

  And he was right. Of course. We sat in the tent and Daiyu herself fanned me down with this lovely little Chinese hand wand that worked amazingly well for such a small, delicate thing. And the fun makeup guy returned and touched up my face and hair. I took sips of Gatorade and popped grapes in my mouth in between lipstick blots. I was downing so much food, it was hard to believe I’d been on the verge of an eating disorder.

  Starting with the quarterfinals, all of the couples took the ballroom floor at once. Talk about a wild, roaring audience. Every single couple who would remain for the finals in a few short rounds was up there right now; all of the stars of the ballroom world were on the floor at once now. For the first time in my Blackpool experience thus far, it was impossible to ignore Micaela, Xenia, Arabelle, and Bronislava. There was so much screaming, so many names being called out at once. All the cheers for Micaela, Xenia, and Arabelle drove home how close this competition was, how we were all fierce competitors with each other. I began to feel like I was in a boxing match. My nerves started to prickle.

  Stop it, I told myself. Stop it now.

  Since we were all on the floor at once, there were no more individual heats, so we went through the dances one by one, with no break time. Somehow my adrenaline kept me going strong. I honestly didn’t feel the least bit enervated. I just prayed my adrenaline could keep my nerves and confidence issues at bay as well.

  Sasha knew what was going on in my head. “I love you,” he said this time after our rumba as he kissed me now on the lips, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me close. The crowd went so crazy, the band actually delayed the beginning of the paso for a few seconds to let all the cheering die down a bit. That was all I needed, that crowd and its encouragement. Now, Sasha and I—and his fans—were the only ones out there on the floor.

  They gave us another short break between paso doble and jive, which I know knew was customary. Micaela walked around, waving to her fans. She didn’t seem out of breath at all. She didn’t seem to have an ounce of sweat on her at all. Her strut was quite magnificent too. Arabelle stood in place, smiling radiantly to all the “Belle Arabelle” cheers. Sasha wrapped his arms around me from the side, and pressed his lips to my temple in response to our cheers, as if to tell the audience and the judges that we were the couple in love; that he felt I was the true partner for him, the one who would save him, and bring him glory.

  The orchestra broke into their jive music, and Sasha brought me back to earth. Judging by our scores in the team competition, this was our weakest dance. But Sasha’s little display of confidence in our partnership to the world made my adrenaline surge through my entire body, from my small toe to the crown of my head. As soon as we started that backward slide and those jive kicks, I knew I was going to nail it. And when I heard my name—“Aurora, go Aurora! Yes, Aurora”—I knew the audience knew it too.

  We made it through the quarterfinals and nearly flew back to the tent amid the wild applause from the ballroom. Daiyu and her assistants had our new costumes all ready. This time I didn’t care who all saw my body in its semi-undressed state. I was in a rush. As the assistant zipped me in and patted down bubbles and wrinkles in the fabric I realized how hard my heart was pounding, how my calves were beginning to ache and hamstrings were beginning to feel overstretched. Oh no, I had the two most important rounds to go. My body couldn’t fail me now. Just two more rounds, I told myself.

  Just two more. You can do it.

  Once in the makeup chair I again downed fistfuls of dark-chocolate-covered almonds and slugs of Gatorade in between lipstick blots. The powder puff was drenched with sweat after the makeup guy used it to blot my cheeks and forehead. I didn’t think I’d sweated so much in my life.

  Keep it together, Rory!

  The cheers were even louder as we took the floor for the semifinal round, probably because of the costume change, which everyone had
done. I noticed Micaela even did her hair differently. It was now in a long French braid instead of a twist. How had she had the time to do that, I wondered?

  The big band began their cha-cha rendition and my muscle memory took over. I couldn’t feel the aches and pains I’d felt in the tent because, I swear, I couldn’t even feel my body. The cha-cha seemed to blend right into the samba. It was all becoming a blur. Thank goodness for muscle memory. Thank goodness for all that practice. I felt Sasha’s hands on mine, on my waist and shoulder and back, but other than that, I felt like I was dancing out of my body. The only thing I felt was sweat flying from my face with each shake of my head. I swear I must have sprayed the back of Xenia’s head when she and Piotr passed us with their long, sprinting promenade runs during our short-stepped, hip-swaying samba rolls. I heard Micaela laugh, likely not at me but just because she was having fun. It was fun, her laughter reminded me. It was a thrill. I laughed with her.

  The crowd was going so wild now, cheering back and forth for the eight of us—Sasha and me, Arabelle and Andrew, Micaela and Jonathan, and Xenia and Piotr. I now saw why they had a live band at Blackpool. If they didn’t, I don’t know how I would ever have heard the music, how anyone would have heard it. And you needed to hear the music to be on beat.

  Finally, samba ended and they gave us a few moments of rest to reboot for the rumba. Thank the lord for a slow dance, I thought. I remembered how my hamstrings and calves had ached in the tent and I just prayed I made it through all those leg lifts without pulling anything. Well, I had to. If I tore something, I’d just have to deal with the pain. It could heal. This was my chance. Something a dancer should never tell herself, I knew from ballet. But that’s what I did.

  The rumba music began. Sasha and I did our opening move: his deep lunge/my slow leg lift, followed by him pulling me passionately into him and me backing slightly away so I could bow down to him while extending my leg up high behind me. The crowd cheered like crazy. I was happy—it was one of our most beautiful moves and we could do it so full-out now, with so few people on the floor. No pain in my knee, thankfully. Then we went into our series of fast, impassioned underarm turns. He led me into the first, then second, then third whipping turn. I was spotting his big beautiful eyes and felt like one with the gust of wind we’d created. The applause was so loud it nearly blacked out the music even with the live band.

  Suddenly, Sasha pulled me back sharply. He’d taken me off guard and I stumbled.

  What? My mind exploded with a cacophony of thoughts. What happened to the gentleness? Was he changing the routine at the last minute like he’d warned he might? Why, at this stage, with the floor so bare? Was I just so fatigued my muscle memory had faltered and I’d forgotten the routine?

  The alarm had to have shown on my face. In my panic, I lost my center of gravity and thus my balance. Because of the strength of his pull, I wasn’t able to développé my leg all the way up, and I ended up sliding into him, my unfolding knee landing not in his groin but smack in his rib cage. Somehow he didn’t stumble backward, like a lesser dancer would have. Sasha had the strength and balance to correct us. But I heard a loud crack. The audience moaned collectively. They’d heard it too. Oh my God, I’d really injured him. It wasn’t going to be me, but he who had to make the choice of dancing through the pain and possibly harming himself further.

  Chapter 15

  “Oh my God, oh my God!” people cried.

  Sasha completely stopped now. I wanted to cry as well. What had I done? Then I heard actual screams. And not the cheering kind.

  I put my leg down and backed up, looking at his ribs, terrified I might see blood everywhere. But I couldn’t see anything but his black shirt. When my eyes caught his, I saw a look of horror. But wait, he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking behind me.

  I turned around and saw Arabelle completely prostrate on the floor, face down. She’d taken a nasty fall. There was blood spreading out from under her hair. Oh my gosh, she’d cracked her skull. It all happened in a split second, but no one was yet coming to her aid. The music was actually still going.

  I let go of Sasha and ran toward her.

  “Rory!” I heard him yell behind me, just as my heel let out from under me. I slipped and fell flat on my butt sliding straight toward her. My butt was very wet. I’d fallen on something liquidy.

  Great place for that, on the ballroom floor.

  I slid toward her, moving my arms and pulling myself beside her. I lifted her face. She was crying and her nose was bleeding badly. It didn’t look like she had any cuts to her head. It seemed only to be her nose.

  “Oh my gosh, are you hurt?” I said, though clearly her nose was. I had no idea what to stop it with. “We need ice and towels,” I called out. I tried to hold her nose but all I could do was cup my hand underneath her nostril to collect the blood. Her beautiful white gown had a jagged line of crimson going down the front. It looked like she’d been stabbed in the heart. I touched it.

  “You’re not hurt here, right? Like there wasn’t any glass?” I looked around. I couldn’t understand what happened.

  She shook her head. Her nose was still bleeding.

  “Can someone please…” I began.

  And then Sasha and Andrew both arrived simultaneously, Andrew with an arsenal of towels, Sasha with ice wrapped in a wet cloth. Both men helped her up.

  “Rory, just be careful when you walk,” Sasha said. “There’s water everywhere and it looks like rubber pieces, maybe from a balloon.”

  I then realized the music had stopped. The emcee announced that the floor would need to be cleaned and Arabelle would need medical assistance. We would resume shortly, he said.

  Sasha grabbed my hand, and walked me steadily around the spilled water. It was quite a spill.

  “What happened?” I said.

  He shook his head and raised his eyebrows. “Someone apparently threw something containing water—maybe a water balloon bomb—at someone on the floor. Perhaps us.”

  “You know it was Cheryl,” I shouted, stomping my pump into the parquet.

  “Please be careful, sweetheart. I don’t want you to get hurt. There’s still water,” he said.

  I continued to look at him, not moving. Was he really going to tell me I was worried about nothing, that I was ridiculous for letting Cheryl get to me now? I put my hands on my hips. He wasn’t going to tell me I was imagining things now.

  “I know,” he said. “She missed you. She’ll get hers. Don’t worry.”

  ***

  “I saw it coming down. I don’t know where it came from, but somewhere above. I didn’t know what it was. I pulled Rory out of the way so she wouldn’t be hit. It crashed into the ground and burst and Arabelle slid right into the water—or whatever it was filled with—and fell,” Sasha told an organizer investigating the incident.

  We were now in the tent, waiting to hear an update on Arabelle. I couldn’t stop tearing up. I was so sorry for her. She was the last person who deserved to have her Blackpool ruined, after everything she’d been through. I hoped her nose wasn’t broken. I couldn’t believe Cheryl would do this, would actually stoop to this level. I seriously wanted to kill her. How could anyone be that mean? Someone could have been seriously hurt. Someone was.

  My dress had just about as much blood on it as Arabelle’s. And this was my new one, for the finals. I’d have to change back into the old. It wasn’t customary and judges didn’t like changes whether they be to rules or customs, but what could I do? I went through the whole process again. This time Daiyu herself helped change me since her assistant had left.

  “Oh shit,” she said, zipping me up. I’d never heard Daiyu curse before.

  “What?” I said.

  “There’s a tear.”

  Oh shit is right. Must have happened when I took it off earlier. I was rushing so fast, I hadn’t taken off my shoes and I very likely got the stiletto heel stuck in the fabric. In fact I think I remembered doing it. It wasn’t a big deal then, as
I didn’t think I’d need the dress again. At least not tonight.

  “Oh no, Daiyu, I’m really sorry,” I said. “I was in such a rush I think I just went too fast and maybe got the heel stuck. I’m so sorry.” These gowns were her babies. I felt badly for treating one the way I had with all the work she’d put into it. “I was just so nervous—”

  She laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Everyone does that. I’m surprised there’s only one tear!”

  “Oh, really?” I tried to laugh too. But the question remained, what were we going to do? She ended up deciding she could fix it since it was on the seam, but I’d have to sit there in a towel while she worked, while the makeup artist redid my now mascara-ridden face. I pulled the towel around me as tightly as I could. But seriously, after what Arabelle was going through, I had no place being upset or embarrassed.

  While I was getting repainted, my cell phone dinged. I had a message from Paulina.

  You are my hero, child. The way you took care of her. If you have to wear that bloody dress, you wear it proudly. And you go, girl!

  Samantha also texted. Are you okay? I can’t believe that happened. Don’t text me right now. I know how busy it is back there. I just can’t wait to see you and hug you at the hotel tonight.

  About forty minutes later, it was announced that the competition would continue. The floor had been cleaned, the culprit had been found, and authorizes had assured the organizers justice would be meted out. Most importantly, Arabelle was okay. She had a broken nose but no other broken bones or injuries, and would be able to continue in the competition. Good for her. I was most interested in the announcement that the culprit had been found, but since we were going back onstage I’d have to put it out of my mind for the time being.