The Standout

by Laurel Osterkamp

  “Heard what?”

  “They posted the summer repertory roles today!”

  I can’t believe I’d forgotten. Weeks ago, Julie and I and every other girl at Ballet Institute East auditioned for a part with the summer repertory program that partners with New York City Ballet. Getting cast means opening a door for an internship with one of the best ballet companies in the world.

  Julie’s happy demeanor must mean she got good news. “What part did you get?” I ask.

  “I didn’t get anything.” As she speaks her shiny expression expands, like Pinocchio's nose when he’s telling a lie. “We both knew I wouldn’t. But you did, because you get everything you want, don’t you?”

  “I. . . I wouldn’t say that.” We’re in her living room now, and I plop down on the plush, heather-colored armchair that I’ve always loved. “I mean, who even cares, right? It’s not the end all, be all.”

  Julie is leaning against her couch’s armrest, unwilling to sit down. “You don’t have to pretend, Zelda. I know how much you wanted it and I know you’re already dying to call your mom and tell her.” She widens her eyes in insincere wonder. “Maybe you’ve finally done something that will make her happy.”

  “So they posted a list? I’m surprised I didn’t hear about it from the other BIE girls at The Standout.”

  I stare and she stares back. The smile hasn’t left her face but Julie’s eyes are cold and hard. “If you don’t believe me, ask Yuri. He got cast as Albrecht. He’ll tell you when he gets here.”

  “What? Yuri is coming over?”

  “I mentioned the idea of a threesome and he was all for it. He should be here soon.” She does a fake yawn and stretch movement. “Do you want anything to drink? I could really use something to take the edge off.”

  She strolls toward her parent’s liquor cabinet and I get up and follow her. “Julie, I’m sorry about Yuri. I only meant to be friends with him, really. But you and I need to talk.”

  She’s kneeled down, pulling out bottles, sorting through and rejecting each one. “I think I’m in the mood for vodka and we keep that in the freezer.” Julie meets my eyes as she stands up straight. “Yuri will like that. Vodka will make him feel at home.”

  I follow her into the kitchen and speak to her back as she digs through the icebox. “Julie, I’m serious. I need to know what’s going on with you.”

  She wrestles out the vodka bottle, which was sandwiched between a box of Boca Burgers and a bag of frozen peas. “I’m fine Zelda, really. I mean, why should I care that you stole my boyfriend, my modeling job, and now my repertory spot? I’ve only been working towards it for my entire life, but everything happens for a reason, right?” She tightly grasps the frosty bottle and refracted light shines through it. “Do you want ice in your drink?”

  “I. . .um, no thank you.” I mean no thank you for the drink itself, but Julie assumes I just want it iceless, so she pours a healthy portion of straight-up vodka into a martini glass and hands it to me. I take a tentative sip, and warmth, both soothing and sickening, travels from my lips to my limbs.

  Meanwhile, Julie fills her own glass with ice and a larger amount of vodka than she gave me. As she boldly drinks I marvel how she can take such a big swallow of this medicine-like stuff.

  “Anyway,” she continues, waving her vodka around so that some of it sloshes down to the floor, “there’s always a solution, right? Maybe I’ll pull another Adrian.”

  “Huh?”

  Julie takes a contented sip before answering. “It was easy, convincing Adrian she didn’t want to be a model on The Standout.” She sets her glass down on the kitchen counter. “Crazy, really, how little you have to do to make someone feel scared.”

  Oh yeah. Julie was only cast as the understudy, but she got the job after our Ballet Institute East classmate mysteriously dropped out. “You threatened Adrian?”

  “I did what I had to do to get what I wanted.” Julie spins, faces the kitchen counter, and lifts one leg so her foot rests on top, as if she’s standing at a ballet barre. She raises her arm over her head and arches her back. Her head is upside down, peering at me. “I tried to do the same to you. I thought if I could get your designer out, I could get you out too.”

  Her confession just slides out, graceful, effortless, and nearly beautiful. I don’t even know what to think. “But why, Julie?”

  She straightens up, calmly lowering her leg like she can’t be bothered to rush her answer. “Because I wanted to beat you for once.”

  I don’t always win. I don’t get everything I want, far from it, and everyone knows Julie is a better dancer than me. “You sabotaged Robin just to punish me?”

  “I wouldn’t call it sabotage. I just tried to undermine her confidence, which was easy, because let’s face it, she’s a mess.”

  Suddenly I realize I am squeezing my glass of vodka, harder and harder, with every word Julie says. I loosen my grip and it shatters to the kitchen floor, little shards of glass amidst a puddle of white alcohol.

  Then a buzzer rings.

  Julie steps over my mess and into the foyer, where she presses a button on her wall. “Yes?”

  The doorman’s answer is full of static. “Yuri is here for you.”

  “Send him up.” She marches back into the kitchen. I have grabbed some paper towels and am crouched down, attempting to clean up. “Don’t worry about that now, Zelda,” Julie barks. “Come on, we’re meeting Yuri at the elevator.”

  I can barely orient myself around any of this. “Huh? Why?”

  Julie taps her foot, too impatient to explain. “If you care about what happens to him, you’ll come with me.”

  Blindly, I get up and follow her out to the elevator. I am silent, though my head is drowning in unasked questions. Meanwhile, Julie is on a diatribe. “Everything comes so easy to you and you just throw it away! I mean, seriously, Zelda! You’re thinking about college? How mediocre can you be? What are you going to do, study economics at some third tier school, like Penn State? I bet you’ll get date raped at your first campus party, drop out, and become a certified accountant. Then you’ll be fat and ordinary, while you waste away in some office building, when you could have had it all. And meanwhile, Yuri chose you, a virgin with no vision. God, it’s such a waste!”

  All I can think is: She hates me. My best friend hates me and she’s right. I didn’t have the vision to notice.

  The elevator doors open and before Yuri can get out, Julie grabs my hand and pulls me in.

  “What is happening?” Yuri asks.

  Julie presses the very top elevator button. “We’re going to the roof.” The doors close, the three of us are contained, and the air feels so thick I’m not sure I can breathe.

  “I thought,” struggles Yuri, “I pick up Zelda to bring her home.”

  “You really believed that?” Julie laughs. “I don’t care what you do later, but first we’re roofing.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  Julie turns sunny again, pasting on a smile. “You guys have been holding back on me! I know how fun you think roofing is, and I feel so left out!” She drapes an arm around each of our shoulders. “I’ll finally get to see what all the fuss is about.”

  The elevator dings and the doors open. Julie uses her key to gain access to the roof. She runs out first and Yuri and I follow with heavy steps.

  “I know this isn’t hardcore enough for the two of you,” Julie cries, dancing around the flat surface atop her building. “Not enough of a challenge, right?”

  “Is fine,” Yuri answers. “But I am not in mood.”

  “Oh really?” Julie sticks her face in his. “How convenient. You always used to be in the mood to do stuff with me, Yuri.”

  “I am sorry you had wrong idea,” he answers, but she just laughs.

  “No,” he continues, “is not meant to be joke. Zelda and I go now.” He uses his eyes to motion to me, asking me to get back on that elevator, and I almost say yes before my phone vibrates with a text.<
br />
  It’s from Robin. We’re here. Where are you?

  On the roof, I text back. Hurry.

  Then Julie cries out.

  “Hey!” she calls. I am shocked at how quickly she managed to jump up onto the railing that surrounds the edges of the building. She is balanced and unmoving, her center of gravity deep. “Now what do you think? Is this dangerous enough for you?”

  “Julie, get down!” I run toward her. “Please! I’m sorry about everything, okay? Just please, please get down.”

  “No. This is too much fun.” The wind is whipping her hair and she raises one leg into an arabesque. Only the ball of her other foot, planted against the thin, round rail, keeps her from falling to her death.

  Yuri doesn’t hesitate. He jumps onto the railing and holds out his arms. “Dance with me?” he asks.

  I know Yuri is trying to be kind, thinking if she gives him her hands, he can ease her down. But Julie sneers. “I don’t need your pity!”

  The wind billows her shirt and makes her hair fly. I cling to the fact that Yuri hasn’t had the large drink of vodka that Julie did. His hands are still outreached, hoping to grasp onto hers. “I know you are excellent dancer,” he yells over the wind. “This is what roofers do. We balance and we dance.”

  “And you take selfies, right Zelda?” Julie glances at me. “Better yet, you should film this, okay?”

  “Sure,” I shakily take my phone from my pocket. I turn on the video camera and point it at them. “And once we get some really great footage, you can come down.”

  Julie looks skeptical, but she takes a tiny step in Yuri’s direction. Then she does another arabesque. “Can you do this, Yuri?”

  He nods. “Sure,” and he models her movement while I film them.

  “Julie,” I say, still pointing the camera at her. “What did you do to Robin?”

  She keeps her eyes on Yuri. “It wasn’t just me. Nadia and Gabe were very easily convinced; they both believed that bringing Robin down would help them get ahead. So I told Nadia to access the internet on Robin’s tablet, and to distract her while Gabe dumped water on her dress. Oh, and I took Kyla’s scissors and put them with Robin’s stuff. I can’t believe something so stupid got her kicked out.”

  “Did you push her on the treadmill?”

  Julie raises her arms over her head and for a breathless moment I think she’s going to attempt a pirouette. But she just laughs. “Of course I didn’t push her. The bitch went crazy paranoid. She probably just tripped over her own clumsy feet.”

  My eyes have been on Julie and too late I realize that Yuri is reaching for her. She pushes him away which causes them both to lose their balance and slip.

  “Yuri, watch I out!” I yell, but it does no good.

  Yuri’s feet fly from beneath him, but he catches the railing with one slick palm, leaving his body to hang over the vast expanse between sky and sidewalk. Meanwhile, Julie’s ankle becomes wedged between two rails, and that is the only thing that stops her before she falls forward, head first toward the ground.

  They are both hanging between life and death, and if I take the time to try and save one of them, then the other will surely die.

  I think fast. Yuri is the easier save. If I give him my hand, he will have the strength to pull himself up and then maybe he can rescue Julie. So I drop my phone and go to him first.

  “Help me, Zelda!” Julie’s screams like a terrified, wounded animal, and it pierces right through me. “I’m your best friend! You have to help me!”

  I climb onto the railing, not to the top bar but in the middle, and I pitch myself forward, arm outreached. Yuri’s face is bleached white and his lips are shaking at an extremely high velocity, but he manages to take my hand. I literally hold on for dear life, using every ounce of strength to both anchor him and to pull him forward. He’s strong but this feels impossible.

  “Please pull harder,” he grunts. Heart pounding in my ears, I close my eyes and see him fall, landing on the ground in an unnatural, bloody mess; his beautiful body meant for dancing turned to wreckage. That image summons some extra reserve of power. I give him one last tug and I fall back, onto the floor of the roof. He mounts the railing like a gymnast on a vault, and then propels himself back onto safe, solid ground.

  “Zelda!” Julie cries.

  “Yuri, help her!” I yell, but he’s already rushing forward.

  He climbs up onto the railing over where she hangs and he uses one hand to grab the ankle that isn’t caught while he uses his other hand to wedge out the ankle that is. He gets her unstuck, but Julie is screaming and writhing in terror. Her body is already propelled forward, but when Yuri tries to pull her up she slams herself back. I hear a sickening thump when her head hits the side of the building at an angle, and then her ankles slip from his grasp.

  Seconds later there are screams. Automobiles screech. The world ends.

  Horror hits me at full force. “She’s dead.”

  Yuri looks over the railing and winces. “Yes.”

  I sob. Yuri, in an effort to console me, places his hand on my shoulder, which is hot with pain from trying to pull him up.

  “Don’t touch me!” I yell, and Yuri recoils as if he’s been burned.

  Everything around me becomes noise: the street below, the wind rushing past, and the pounding in my head. Surely it will all come together in a big explosion and this sick spinning will stop. But somehow I differentiate and realize that the pounding and the yells aren’t coming from within my eardrums but from behind the rooftop door.

  “Robin,” I say to myself, and move to let her in.

  “Zelda, wait!” cries Yuri. “We should not be up here.”

  “It’s a little late for that!”

  And then I open that door.

  Chapter 65: Ted

  Robin’s model, Zelda, is hysterical. A Russian guy tries to explain what happened, something about dancing on the railing, and I try to understand.

  We hear sirens. “That must be the police,” Robin says. “They’ll want to talk to you.”

  “And to her parents,” I add. “Where are this girl’s parents?”

  Zelda uses her sleeve to wipe away snot from her nose. “At their office, I bet.” Her chin quivers as she dares to glance toward the sounds on the street below. “I’ll call them. It’s better coming from me than the police.” She has calmed down enough to speak coherently so she turns to the Russian, who I am assuming is her boyfriend. “You should go,” she tells him.

  “No. I stay,” he answers.

  “They’ll deport you for sure,” she answers. “They’ll suspect foul play and they’ll make it your fault. You have to go.”

  Robin asks them both questions, but I can’t decipher the words because I’m fixated on a ledge. I don’t actually make a decision to stroll over but my legs move me there, nonetheless. I look down to the street, where emergency vehicles’ siren lights are flashing and paramedics work to erase what happened.

  But can it be erased?

  She was here one moment, gone the next, and there’s no physical evidence of it on this roof. How is it possible that we are so fragile, that even in the act of being rescued, one wrong move can instantly end a life? The railing is still rigid, with no scratches or scuffs that would indicate she was thrown over.

  Nope. She was just a girl goofing around; they tried to save her, and now she’s dead.

  I’m on the middle bar of the railing but now I stand up straight, look out at the city, and I’m hit with the strongest sense of deja vu I’ve ever had. This is my dream, the one where I wanted to fly from the top of that building. I’m reliving it, if it’s possible to relive something you’ve only ever dreamt about. But the notion that it’s possible to be free, to be airborne, settles into me like a wave washing away sand, and the peace I didn’t even realize I was seeking is suddenly found. There is no more stress from a job I can’t handle, no wife who no longer loves me, no family members who merely tolerate me. I’m alone up here and the worl
d is at my fingertips. I can touch it if I just reach out, so I climb up onto the top rail.

  Balancing on the highest rail is easy; my stance is wide and my center of gravity is low. Even the fiercest of pushes wouldn’t make me fall. I spread my arms as if they’re wings and I’m ready for a launch. I remember Mom’s note: Get yourself together, don’t be afraid, and jump.

  So this is what she meant.

  Chapter 66: Robin

  I wasn’t prepared for any of this. And though I never liked this so-called friend of Zelda’s, I still feel a crushing sense of remorse, like it was my fault and I could have prevented it if I’d just made better choices.

  Zelda and Yuri exit through the rooftop door, ready to call Julie’s parents and to talk to the police. Only then do I think to glance around for Ted. When I see him, I have to bite my lower lip to keep from screaming.

  He’s balanced on the railing like he’s a superhero.

  I walk up with soft, slow steps. If I startle him from behind he might fall. Yet with every inch forward, anxious fear pulls me back. My heart is in my throat and I need somewhere to put my hands, like maybe on a doorknob out of here. Walking to that ledge is the stuff of nightmares and I realize that I am acting out my dream from last night. I am on the roof and I’m trying to save someone when I can’t even save myself.

  But I had no idea that the person I’d be saving is Ted.

  I force myself right up to the railing, so my face is parallel with the back of my brother’s knees. I have one shot at this and I move quickly. There’s no time for talking him down. I just wrap my arms around his legs and lunge back.

  When we land I feel crushed, like a splattered, rotten tomato. The wind is knocked out of me and my lungs don’t work. For a moment I’m dying. But then Ted climbs off of me and I realize that anyone as angry as I am has to be alive.

  “Son of a bitch!” I yell, once I regain my breath. “What the hell was that, Ted? Did you think that was funny?”