Still fuming, I threw aside the bedsheets and got dressed. I knew should take a cold shower to calm down and clean up a little, but I was too restless.
The first thing I did was knock on Rayna’s door. Something told me she wasn’t there, but I had to check. Again, there was no answer.
Not knowing where to go or what to do next, I marched to the first floor of the hotel, where I wandered aimlessly, looking for her. I was about to grab my phone and call her when I saw her seated in a quiet corner of the dining room, having breakfast by herself and talking on the phone.
A new wave of rage crashed through me as I made my way to her.
And then I heard her saying, “And here I thought you were really missing me.”
That did it.
After all we went through, she just left me alone like that? Was she trying to avenge the time I had left her alone? And now she was talking with someone else about missing her?
The rage burst and I couldn’t take it back.
I sank down in the chair across from her and stared at her with anger stamped on my face. “Who else is missing you?” I had my arms crossed over the table, and my entire frame was tense. On the defensive. I couldn’t help it.
Her hazel eyes widened and she made a little “oh” with her lips. Those freaking perfect lips. My jeans were suddenly very tight.
Fuck. This was not the time. I was mad at her, remember?
“No, Mom,” she said, emphasizing the word while wiggling her eyebrows at me. Shit. “It’s nothing. So, what are your plans for today?” Rayna averted her eyes and started picking at her muffin. “Practicing. Sure. Sounds fun.” She sighed. “I know. It’s a shame I’m getting back so late. But we can practice tomorrow, right? All day long.” She wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug and squeezed tight, causing her knuckles to turn white. “All right. Thanks. See you later.”
She dropped the phone on the table and faced me with a knot on her forehead.
“I didn’t—” I cut myself off, not sure what to say. I wanted to be mad at her, but I had just seen how her mother had irritated her, once again, and I suddenly felt like a jerk. “Sorry about that.”
“Thankfully, she didn’t hear exactly what you said; otherwise, you can bet she would be on the next plane here.”
I frowned. “Why?”
She stared at me. “Why what?”
“Why would she bother coming here if she had heard me? It doesn’t make sense.” Her jaw flexed and the jerk factor went up a little more. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to sound like a jackass. I’m just trying to understand. The way you said it sounded like she’s always watching you, controlling you.”
She looked down at her coffee and whispered, “In some ways, she is.”
“But … you’re nineteen, and you’ve got your own job, and your own life. Why would she be in control?”
She glanced back at me, her chin high. “It’s … complicated.”
All right. Two could play this game. “Is that the answer you’ll give me when I ask why the hell you left this morning?”
She snorted. “That … that is even more complicated.”
“Then try to un-complicate it for me.”
Rayna stared at me for a few heartbeats, until she finally shook her head. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m not gonna explain myself and why we shouldn’t have a relationship when I don’t even know—” She pressed her lips tight.
“Don’t know what?” What the hell? Why didn’t women just say what they wanted to say? I took a long breath and forced my voice to remain calm. “Talk to me.”
She pushed her muffin away and crossed her arms. “What do you want?”
“From what? The company? Life?”
Red colored her cheeks. “From me.”
I ran a hand over my hair. “To be honest, I don’t know. My life is kinda complicated too, but one thing I know for sure. Ballet is everything to me and I’ll do whatever I can to succeed. I came to the company to do my best, to become a principal dancer, to make a name for myself, and to be known in the dance world. I always thought having a relationship right away would only mess things up. It would make me lose focus and would steal some of the time I could be rehearsing.”
“Exactly,” she said. “It took me a long time to get where I am. Maybe it was my mom’s fault, maybe not, but I can rise above that. This competition was my first opportunity to do that. But, like you said, to become principal dancer, I can’t lose focus. I can’t get sidetracked by …” She waved her hands between us. “By whatever this is.”
That stung, but I schooled my expression. Because, if she hadn’t interrupted me, I would have reached over and untangled her arms. Holding her hands, I would have said that everything had changed when she came along. I liked dancing with her, liked spending time with her, and I liked having sex with her. Would this have a future? I didn’t know, but I was only worried about the now, and right now, this thing between us felt good and it felt right.
I swallowed my words and stared at her with indifference. “So, that’s it?”
Her cheeks became a bright scarlet. “I guess so. We worked each other out of our system, and now we move on.”
“Cool.” I slapped the table with more force than I intended, making her wince. “Meet me in front of the hotel in about an hour so we can head to the theater?”
With narrowed eyes, she nodded.
Unable to spend one more second beside her, I stood and hurried out of the hotel.
***
Rayna
Before, it had been hard to be beside Josh, now it was almost impossible. Almost, because I had to do it, at least for now. After the awards ceremony, we could go our separate ways.
I met up with Josh in front of the hotel, and in absolute silence, we both walked to the theater, checked in, then took places in the audience to watch the rest of the contemporary competition.
I liked contemporary ballet, its freer form was beautiful and elegant, but it wasn’t really my forte. We were required to know and be good at contemporary to be in the company, since we had an entire season dedicated to contemporary ballets, but my favorite was really classical ballet. Always had been, always would be.
However, sometimes I really hated the military way ballet dancers had to train to make it to the top, and remain there. Because of my mother, I had always been in more formal and rigid ballet studios. When Sienna and Norah went to The Dance Corner, I envied them so much because their schedules weren’t as rigid as mine, and they could do everything—hip hop, jazz, tumbling, lyrical, and whatever else they wanted. For a time, I was able to convince my mother to let me go to The Dance Corner. That adventure lasted less than a year. I would never forget how it felt when she noticed my progress with ballet was decreasing—or not progressing as fast as she wanted it to—and she took me out of there and back to my former cold and rigid dance studio.
At The Dance Corner, dancing wasn’t an obligation; it wasn’t a competition. Classes were fun and I laughed more in those eleven months than I had in my entire life. I finally took hip hop and tap and lyrical. I would have taken them all if I had more time.
I simply loved being there, inside that small, quaint studio, where everyone knew everyone, and they were nice to each other and helped out, instead of counting prizes and complaining the rest of the dancers weren’t on par with their star daughters.
I felt sick remembering how wild and stupid it could all become.
“I think this is the last category,” Josh said from the chair beside me, bringing me out of my reverie.
The group category had just started. Good thing too. It was already four in the afternoon. Awards would be at five thirty, and our flight was at eight.
Beside me, Josh was focused on the stage, watching the performances with critical eyes.
The silence between us stretched, enveloping us in a tense bubble, even though the theater thrummed with sounds: the loud music coming from the stage, the chatter of the audience, the comi
ng and going of dancers.
The rest of the performances went by in a daze.
At five thirty, the winners were called up to the stage by category. Still halfway lost in thought, I barely heard them announce that Josh and I had won the couples category in classical ballet. At that moment, I woke up and smiled. Pushing back against all the awkwardness and the embarrassment between Josh and me, I held his hand as we walked to the stage together. As the host presented us with our medals, he squeezed my hand before letting go. Like me, he smiled at the audience applauding us.
When it was time to leave the theater, that wall of awkwardness and embarrassment fell over us again, and tense silence reigned as we took a taxi to the airport.
The only words we spoke after we landed were good night before each of us took a different cab to our separate apartments.
Chapter Fourteen
Josh
Now that I was free of Rayna, I seemed to see her more often around NYBT’s building. We didn’t make an effort to keep our distance anymore, but I certainly wasn’t looking for her. So, how did I always end up at the same classroom as her for morning class? And when I decided to go for evening classes, which was often now, she was also there.
We acted politely, saying good morning, asking how we were, but it was all fake. That crap about getting me out of her system? It was exactly that: all crap. I could see it in her as much as I felt it in me.
I had it all bottled up—my desire, my longing, my caring. I knew it was just a matter of time before it exploded. When it did, I would run across the studio, take her in my arms, and kiss her senseless. And I knew I would get slapped for that.
I was trying to stop thinking about her, I really was. But I couldn’t help it. After evening class, which ended at eight in the evening, I went out for a run, or a workout at the gym on the company’s second floor, or I walked through NYC, making sure I took pictures and sent them to my mother, who would show them to my father, or I went with Robbie to one of his crew’s rehearsals—just so I wouldn’t have time to stop and think about her, so I wouldn’t have time to come up with a plan to go after her and sweep her off her feet. Then it was dinner, shower, and by the time I hit my bed, I was exhausted. Even so, sleep eluded me most nights. Every time I shut my eyes, an image of her appeared behind my eyelids. And, when I finally fell asleep, I dreamed about her.
It was agonizing.
Two weeks after the competition, I was dancing with Martha during rehearsal when Rayna came in the studio with Zack. A jolt of jealousy snaked into my chest. I knew he was just her partner, but right now, he was dancing with her, not me.
Rayna barely looked my way. Madam Gallant pointed for her and Zack to take a spot on my left and join us.
Shit, not glancing at Rayna and not messing up with Martha was going to be hard.
Martha, on the other hand, had no problem showing her emotions. She scoffed when Rayna and Zack took their positions. “The scum of the company has arrived.” Her words were loud enough that Rayna stopped and stared.
What the …? “Shut up, Martha.”
Madam Gallant shushed us.
Zack held Rayna’s hand and urged her to start dancing, which she did, but I knew her. I knew her dancing, knew her body. She was tense and stiff. Nervous. And probably a little enraged with Martha too.
After a full minute of silence, Martha purposely widened her step, standing closer to Rayna’s area. As we all were supposed to do, Zack lifted Rayna for two seconds, shifting her to the other side. I tugged on Martha’s arm, but she didn’t budge, and Rayna landed only a few inches from Martha.
Rayna took a step back, but by then, Martha had tripped—by herself. “Ouch,” Martha said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear over the music.
Madam Gallant raised her hand and the pianist stopped playing. She placed her hands on her waist and asked, “What happened here?”
“I didn’t—”
“This clumsy girl,” Martha said, cutting Rayna off. Faking a hurt face, Martha stared at Madam Gallant with big eyes. “I guess she was ahead of the song, with the jump. She invaded our space and bumped into me.”
I said, “That was not what happened,” at the same time Zack said, “It wasn’t Rayna’s fault.”
But Madam Gallant waved us off and turned to Rayna with a hard frown. “You have to be more careful, Rayna.” Her expression smoothed for Martha. “Are you hurt?”
For show, Martha rotated her foot to one side then the other. “No, Madam Gallant. It was just a scare.”
“All right, if everyone is well, let’s start from the beginning.” She clapped her hands once. “Everyone, take your places!”
I squeezed Martha’s hand, a little harder than I was supposed to. Right before the song started, I leaned closer to her and whispered, “If you pull a stunt like that again, I’m going to personally make your life a living hell.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What do you care?”
I shut my mouth tight, before she found out I did care and decided to make my life, or Rayna’s a living hell.
***
Rayna
If I were a little more impulsive, I would have jumped on Martha and made her eat her words. Piece of shit. Ugh.
After rehearsal, Zack walked me out of the classroom, probably concerned that if I was left alone, Martha and her friends, Clare and Joanna, would gang up and come after me. I didn’t understand the girl. What did she care if I was here because of my mother or not? She was here. I wasn’t stealing her spot. Unless she thought my mother could pull more strings and help me move up the company ladder. Like she had probably done to get me into that competition.
Nausea rolled in my stomach.
“Are you okay?” Zack asked me, as I was about to enter the ladies’ locker room.
I forced a smile. “Don’t worry about me.” I pointed to his feet. “Worry about that ankle. I don’t want to have another partner.”
With a smile of his own, though his was real, he nodded. “Yeah. Gonna stop by the physical therapist then spend the night with my foot up.”
“With ice.”
“With ice,” he repeated. “See you tomorrow, Ray.” After tipping a pretend hat, Zack entered the men’s locker room.
I sighed and hurried in to change out of my dance clothes so I could head home. The more time I spent here, the bigger the chance of running into Martha. Again.
Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on my side. I had just shoved my leg through my jeans when Martha strolled in followed by her faithful sidekicks. The corner of her lips curled up, and she watched me like a cat terrorizing a mouse before jumping for the kill.
“So, what’s your mommy’s next move?” Martha asked as she opened her locker. “Get you a performance at the gala?”
“Maybe she’s going to be promoted to soloist,” Clare said. “The fastest to leap from corps de ballet to soloist in the company’s history.”
“In any company’s history,” Joanna added.
Clare nodded. “Right.”
Martha, Clare, and Joanna’s ages probably ranged from eighteen to twenty-one, but sometimes I wondered if they had stopped at sixteen or seventeen, because they acted like—and sometimes worse than—high school girls.
I was always shocked to find that there was drama, and people waiting to promote drama, anywhere in this world. I had this silly dream that because I was done with high school and wouldn’t be going to college, I would skip a good part of the drama queens. No such luck.
With my back to them, I strapped my bra and pulled my blouse over my head. All the while, I bit down hard on my lower lip, keeping the words in. I wouldn’t sink to their level. I wouldn’t! Especially because I was afraid of the repercussions a fight with Martha would have. My mother would kill me, and God knew what would happen with her job here.
Which brought me back to the topic Martha and her sidekicks loved to talk about most: Was my mother involved in furthering my career here, or not?
I s
ighed and sat down on the wooden bench.
“What?” Martha asked to my back. “Nothing to say?”
“She just doesn’t want to aggravate Mommy,” Clare said.
“Right. If her mommy gets mad, she’ll stop helping her out,” Joanna said. The three of them laughed.
My blood boiled as I shoved my feet in my flats. Without looking at them, I practically ran out of the locker room—while they laughed even louder—and right into Josh.
He clasped my shoulder, steadying me. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yes,” I said, taking a step back. He released me. The girls’ laughter rang louder and I winced.
Josh narrowed his eyes at the door. “They’re still bothering you.” It wasn’t a question.
I shook my head and walked past him. “It’s okay.”
He fell into step with me. “It’s not okay.”
I kept on walking, just walking, just going, just moving, ignoring his voice, ignoring his questions, ignoring his words. I couldn’t stop moving, I couldn’t stop going, because … because if I did, I would explode. I would fall to my knees, I would cry, I would rage, I would run up to my mother and demand the truth from her.
But who said I was ready for the truth?
Outside, I halted and, with my eyes closed, took a deep, deep breath.
A fingertip traced up my cheek and I snapped my eyes open. Standing right in front of me, while hundreds of people walked by us with their busy New Yorker lives, Josh caught my single tear.
“I didn’t know it was so bad,” he said, his voice low, careful.
“Most of the time it isn’t,” I said, trying to sound strong and well. And failing. “Most of the time, they leave me alone. But then, there are days that they don’t have anything better to do, I think, and then … then it’s bad.”
Josh slipped his hand in mine. “Come on,” he said, tugging me along with him. Because of my initial shock, I let him pull me across the street and into the little coffee shop I sometimes came to with Alicia or even my mother.
Dazzle Me (When You Dance Book 1) Page 11