With A Twist

by Staci Hart

  My heart ached the entire way back to the Lincoln Center, burned as I pulled on my pointe shoes and turned on Tchaikovsky, broke when I danced the last act of Swan Lake all alone in the studio. I felt Odette’s longing, her loss. Her pain was my own as I moved to the music with tears streaming down my cheeks.

  I opened my arms, reaching for the prince who I could never have, moving backwards, saying goodbye, gripped by emotion from the dance and the story. From my naiveté and my confusion.

  Nothing would ever be what it was before.

  The room was bathed in the pinks and yellows of dusk as I dropped to the ground, arms around my waist, squeezing to hold myself together. I had no answers, only hurt and loss and confusion. But I exorcised the emotions one by one, tear by tear until there were no more left to cry. I wiped my cheeks with the flats of my palms and breathed, finding the peace after the deluge, with more clarity than I’d felt in days.

  I peeled myself off the floor, feeling alone as I made my way to my bag, pulling out my phone to text Rose, knowing what would make me feel better.

  Go out with me tonight.

  My phone buzzed in my hand. What happened to not drinking ever again?

  I think we both knew that was a lie. It’s been a rough day. Please?

  Of course I’ll go with you. Are you okay?

  I’ll be okay. See you at home.

  K. Xoxo

  I wiped my runny nose and packed up my things. It was almost time for the show, so I made my way to the stage, calm and a little numb, like a stone in the bottom of a river. I didn’t speak much, only what was necessary to do my job. I put on my makeup on autopilot, donned my Carolina Herrera costume in a daze. I twisted up my hair and sprayed it with an obscene amount of hairspray, sewed up my shoes and put them on. And then, it was time to dance.

  We danced Morgen accompanied by a soprano opera singer, three couples who switched partners through the course of the piece, each dancer looking for love wherever they could find it. It was sort of like my own life, especially when Blane and I danced, our drama forgotten as we wooed each other for the sake of the story. For a moment, I believed it, poured myself into the movement, into the piece. There was just that small moment of joy, and then I passed him by, moved to another man, and Blane found another girl.

  West was in my thoughts, in my heart as I danced through the precious time on stage. And then it was over. The piece. The night. My banged-up heart.

  We left the stage to the sounds of applause, and I rode the high once more with my mind a twisted knot, willing everything to work itself out so I could find a way to move on.

  Lily

  “No, Rosie. There’s no amount of lube that could have helped me survive Blane.”

  She laughed so hard, she snorted. It was the tiniest, cutest thing, and we laughed even harder, that silent laugh where your face is twisted up and you can’t breathe. And when you finally can breathe, you suck in air like a donkey.

  There was a lot of breathless donkey laughing happening that night.

  As soon as I caught my breath, I picked up my whiskey from the high-top bar table and took a drink. We were tucked into a corner of Habits, exactly where we’d been for hours as I tried to make sense of my life. I’d passed the heavy, pity party portion of the sob-sesh and was well into the Lily-forgets-to-give-a-fuck portion of the night. I was at least four drinks in. Maybe five. Who knew how many Rose had.

  We were mostly tanked.

  I giggled, watching Rose crack up. “Seriously, though. He just stuffed it in. So awkward. I don’t even know how that felt good for him because I know it didn’t feel good for me. Maybe he’s just not used to normal vaginas.” I perked up. “Maybe Nadia’s vag is like a swamp. Like, he just rams it in, and it makes that sound like when your boot gets stuck in the mud.” I made a rude noise with my mouth, and Rose laughed so hard she couldn’t open her eyes. She made a windshield wiper motion with her hand. I think she wanted me to stop.

  “Fuck, I can’t, Lily. I seriously—” She made some squeaking sounds.

  “How can someone that hot be that bad in bed? How is that possible? It was the worst. Like what I’d imagine it would be like to fuck Pinocchio.”

  Rose hung her arms in the air, dangling them like a marionette as tears rolled down her face. “I’m a real boy!”

  I cackled.

  She wiped off her cheeks. “Goddammit, I haven’t laughed that hard in forever.”

  I propped an elbow on the table, holding up my drink. “I’m glad my pathetic sex life amuses you. Am I talking loud? I feel like I’m talking loud.”

  She waved her hand. “Nah, you’re fine.”

  It made me feel so much better about everything to laugh about it. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him.” I took a drink.

  “Astrid called it Blane’s douchesparkle.”

  A laugh shot out of me. “That’s so accurate.” I emptied my glass and shook it to clink the ice around inside.

  Rose made a face. “Ew, don’t do that to flag Shelby down. Haven’t I taught you anything?”

  I laughed as Shelby walked up, a tiny thing with freckles and caramel colored hair. “You’re so pretty, Shelby. You look like a beautiful little fairy. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

  She smiled, amused. “Not recently.”

  “Well, it’s true. I’m glad you’re here because I need more whiskey!” I crowed.

  Shelby nodded with her eyebrows up. “Uh-huh. You look like you need lots more whiskey. Another for you too, Rose?”

  Rose shrugged lazily. “Eh, why the fuck not.”

  “Okay, girls. Be right back,” she said before heading back to the bar.

  I leaned toward Rose. “I’m prolly going to regret this in the morning, aren’t I?”

  “Probably,” she answered.

  I shook my head at my empty glass. “I can’t even believe I’m doing this right now. Tomorrow, I’m getting my shit together.”

  She snorted. “Starting where?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Ha, ha. Starting with not drinking, catching up on my sleep, and eating clean.”

  “And then what?”

  My nose wrinkled. “And then, I don’t know.”

  Rose nodded and twisted up her long black hair, throwing the rope of hair over her shoulder. “What are you going to do about West?” She took a drink.

  I took a breath and let it out. “I don’t know that either. I went to see him today.”

  She raised a brow. “At Columbia?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  Shelby brought us fresh drinks, and I grinned at her.

  “Thanks, Shelb.”

  “No prob. Now pipe down. You’re scaring Bob.” She jerked her chin toward Bob, who slumped over the table, snoring.

  We laughed as Shelby walked away.

  “What were we talking about?” I asked.

  “You went to Columbia today?”

  I nodded as I picked up the drink. I couldn’t feel my lips, but I could still feel the residual shock from my surprise visit to see West that afternoon. Thanks to whiskey, my feelings were muffled enough that I could pretend to be blasé. “He was kissing Christine in his office.”

  Rose’s eyes bugged, and she set her drink down, gaping. “He what?”

  “She came to talk to him, and he broke it off for good, I guess. That’s what he says, at least.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I do. After everything with Blane and Nadia and Ward, I just needed to see him. And he made me feel … I don’t know, Rosie. Safe. I’d had this horrible day, and then he put his arms around me, and nothing could touch me. Everything made sense. For a minute at least.”

  “The question is, do you want to be with him?”

  I looked down at my drinks. There were two of them, and I closed one eye so there was only one. That’s better. “I dunno. I feel about West like I feel right now. Like I’ve got double vision, and I can’t tell which West is the real one. Is it my friend I’ve known all these year
s? Or is it the mirror of him, like a mirage? A shade of himself, the part of him that I don’t know. Am I making sense?”

  She nodded. “No.”

  I laughed and shifted in my seat, leaning forward. “Okay, so there’s this West that I know so well. Let’s call him Friend West. And then there’s this other part of him that I have no idea about. Let’s call him Boyfriend West. I know how I feel about Friend West. But Boyfriend West? No idea. It’s like having double vision. I can see them both, but I don’t know which one to grab, and only one of them is right. And if I try to grab the wrong one, I might spill the drink all over myself.”

  “That’s fucking deep, Lily,” Rose said reverently.

  I scanned the bar with one eye closed. “I need an eyepatch.”

  Her face lit up. “Oh! We should make disposable eye patches for drunk people in foil packets like condoms.”

  “You’re a genius, Rosie.” I raised my hand for a high five.

  She slapped my palm. “I really am. Flower power, activate. So you need a life eyepatch. Which West should you choose? Let’s make a pros and cons list.”

  “Seriously, how did you get so smart?” I pulled a receipt and a pen out of my purse. “Okay. Cons.” I chewed the end of my pen. “I can’t think of any. Oh, wait. When we break up, we’ll still have to be around each other.” I jotted it down.

  “I mean, that’s workable, but it’s super awkward. Trust me.”

  “Still. Definitely a con. Okay, so what else?” I squinted up at the exposed pipes in the ceiling. “I could lose him forever.”

  “Isn’t that sort of the same as the last one?”

  “No, because learning to be around each other and losing a friend are two totally different things.”

  Rose held up her glass. “Fair enough.”

  I added the point and wrote down another, one that made me feel a little woozy. “I could hurt him.”

  “Mmhmm,” she added thoughtfully.

  “He could hurt me.” I frowned as I added it to the list.

  She squinted, concentrating. “But, I mean, isn’t that any relationship?”

  I sat up a little straighter and said, matter-of-factly, “Yes, but the stakes are higher than a normal relationship, Rose. This isn’t like deciding to date a guy you met in a bar or something. This is West.”

  “All right.” Rose took a drink. “What else?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s move on to pros.” I drew a line and wrote PROS a little too big. “He’s hot.”

  She snickered. “Man-bun hot.”

  “I feel like man-bun gets its own item in pros.” I wrote it down. “He smells good. He’s got manners. He’s kind and generous, humble. He’s my best friend.”

  Rose made a face. “Hey.”

  “Besides you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “He’s smart. He makes me laugh. He knows me.” I was running out of room and turned the receipt sideways. “He loves me,” I said more quietly. “I love him.”

  She watched me solemnly. “As more than just a friend? Can you see yourself with him?”

  I thought about it, thought about his solid arm under my hand as we walked the steps of the Met. Thought about how it felt when he held me this morning, this afternoon. I wanted more. I wanted all of him. My eyes welled with tears. “Yes.”

  Rose reached for my hand, and I met her eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Anything, Rose.”

  Her eyes were big and shiny, and she squeezed my fingers. “You’ve loved him forever. You two fit together without having to work, without having to try. You make sense. Like, I see the two of you talking or touching, and it’s just right. Do you know what I mean? You make your own magic, like you run on the same frequency. How is it that you haven’t been attracted to him the whole time?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I always have been attracted to him, but I’ve tried to only think of him as a friend. I thought he didn’t want that with me. I thought he was unavailable. But sometimes I’d feel it, the connection to him. I’d push it away like I was being silly or lonely, never letting myself consider doing anything about it. I was afraid of what it would mean if I did. What I would lose.”

  “But what about what you’ll gain?”

  I shook my head with my eyes on my list. “I … I don’t know. What if something terrible happens? Like, what if watching him floss ruins me for life, or what if he’s a horrible, drooly kisser?”

  Rose snorted.

  “Really, though. What if we end up hating each other? And what if everything is perfect? What if he’s my forever?” I slumped in my seat. “All of those endings are equally terrifying. How can I choose?”

  “Because there’s a very good chance that he’ll make you happy. Risk and reward. Is West worth the risk to your heart?”

  But I knew the answer. It floated up to the top of my consciousness like a life jacket. I would do anything for West. I would give anything to be the woman he wanted. “He’s worth it.”

  She smiled. “Then there’s your answer.”

  “I want to be with West.” I tried on the words, and they felt good. A relief to say, to recognize. “He wants to be with me, and I want to be with him. All I have to do is tell him, Rosie. I have to tell him.” I started to get up.

  Rose panicked and grabbed my arm. “Whoa, hold up. Not right now.”

  “Why not?” I balked.

  She laughed. “Because you’re drunk, and it’s almost two in the morning.”

  I huffed and sat back down. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?”

  She rolled her eyes. “God, you two are so much alike.”

  “How so?” I asked, suspicious.

  Her face screwed up. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, my god. You are such a liar.”

  “I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

  “Say anything about what?”

  “I have a confession to make.”

  “Well, fucking confess it already, Rose!”

  “Okay! Fine!” She took a drink, apparently to fortify herself, then turned in her seat so she was fully facing me. “So you know how West blurted out that he loved you in the club?”

  I gave her a flat look. “Yeah, pretty sure I remember that.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Well, he kind of told me that morning.”

  My mouth popped open. “What?”

  “You know that breakfast with Patrick? Well, it was really so West could ask me for advice.”

  I just sort of sat there, staring at her.

  “He figured it out at the opera.”

  My lips parted and I laid my fingers over them, shocked. “Oh, my god. I almost kissed him that night.”

  “Yeah, that probably wasn’t one sided. They hatched a plan to ambush me at eight in the morning over bacon.”

  “I feel like if there’s one place to get ambushed, it’s over bacon.” She laughed, but I was chewing on what she’d said, putting the timeline together in my head. “So, wait. You and Patrick knew how he felt about me before we went to Noir?”

  She chewed on her lip and nodded. “Maggie and Cooper knew too.”

  My mouth was open again. “Are you serious?”

  “And Astrid.”

  I threw up my hands. “Jesus, Rose!”

  “Well, he couldn’t tell you until your date was over,” she explained apologetically. “Do you really think if West had come over while you were drinking gin and stuffing your bra with cutlets to tell you he loved you that you would have been happy?”

  “Okay, first, I don’t use cutlets. And second, you’re right.” I sighed. “I don’t like it, but you’re right. You guys all kept it from me and basically made the decision for me.”

  She gave me puppy dog eyes.

  “…But I would have been pissed if he’d told me then, and it would have ruined the night before it even started.”

  “Exactly. The night had to play out. But none of us suspected Blane would do something so despicable.”r />
  “Yeah, well,” I mumbled and took another drink. “I love whiskey.”

  Rose laughed. “Me too.” She killed hers and leaned back. “So how are you going to tell him?”

  “God, I don’t even know.” I thought about telling him again and fought the urge to find him tonight. “I found out eighteen hours ago, and almost everything I’ve touched from that point blew up all over me. You should have seen him today. He was so … I don’t know, Rose. I’ve never seen him like this before. He was hurting, and I just wanted to make it better, make it right. I didn’t know how.” I slumped in my seat. “Are you sure I shouldn’t go over there? I really feel like I should go over there. He’s not going to be mad.”

  “No, he wouldn’t be mad. But do you really want to talk to him about all this when you’re whiskey drunk?”

  I sighed. “No, probably not. But I barely care.”

  “Well, let me be your conscience. You’re not going over there tonight. Here’s what you are going to do.”

  “Oh, goodie.” I perked up. “It makes me feel better that you have a plan.”

  “I always have a plan.”

  I eyed her.

  “Okay, sometimes I have a plan. So, first — drink that because wasting alcohol is unacceptable.” She pointed to my whiskey.

  I giggled and brought it to my lips.

  “Second, pizza.”

  “Ooooh, yes. Pizza.”

  “Then ibuprofen and bed.”

  I frowned. “I feel like it’s early.”

  “Your brain is lying to you. You’re usually in bed four hours ago.”

  “I am so boring.”

  Rose snickered. “Anyway, so tomorrow, we’re going to wake up and eat Genie’s greasy diner food while we hatch a plan for you to confess your feelings to West.”

  Nerves flitted through me. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

  “Scared?”

  “I’m excited and terrified. It’s like bungee jumping at a super sketchy carnival. Like, either it’s going to be amazing, or, you know. Death.”