Josh glanced at me, and then busied himself with tightening the laces on his shoe. When he straightened, his face drained of all color.
“Excuse me,” was all he said before he rushed out the gym doors.
Leah met my eyes, and we both laughed.
“I hope he makes it to the bathroom,” Leah said. She rubbed my arms. “Are you ok?”
Dancing solos that morning had helped me release most of my nervous energy, and outwardly, I felt strong and ready. Inside, my emotions were a wreck. I had hoped to fix things between Josh and me before the duet. I didn’t know how to dance with him upset at me. I studied my own shoes. “I’m fine.”
Leah dipped her head down until I met her gaze. “Josh really cares for you—you know that don’t you?”
The knot in my stomach loosened. Warmth crept through my body, flooding my senses. Despite the icy front Josh put up, I knew that Leah was right. “Yes, I know.”
Leah hugged me. “Good luck. You are an amazing dancer, and a beautiful person.”
I hugged her back. She caught my hand.
“Keep an eye on Rourke, won’t you?” Leah took a step back, clutching her purse. “I’m concerned about him. He keeps talking about leaving.” She hugged her arms around herself. “I’m worried that he’s sick and doesn’t want to tell me.”
So Rourke hadn’t told Leah. My heart ached for her. I didn’t know how I could comfort her without giving her false hope. In just a few days Rourke would be gone, and Leah would be alone again. The loss would be as hard as any death.
I didn’t blame Rourke. What would he tell her—that he was leaving her to go to another world? I wished it could be different for them.
“I’ll do what I can,” I promised.
Leah smiled. “Thank you. Now line up. They’ll be calling you onstage any minute.”
Josh met me at the door, his face still pale.
The woman with a clipboard tapped my shoulder and gestured to where the other duet pairs stood near the edge of the curtain. “Line up, please.”
A jolt of adrenaline pumped through my arms and legs. I grabbed Josh’s hand and we lined up behind the others. Applause rang through the gym as the reel special ended and the dancers took a final bow. Josh dropped my hand. I looked up into his nervous face.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” I began.
“I won’t forget the leap at the end of the first step.” His voice was even and flat.
“That’s not it. I’m sorry that I’ve been so awful to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I searched Josh’s face. He avoided my eyes.
“Well, I guess we can put this misunderstanding aside then.”
“Yes, I’m so glad.” It wasn’t until his eyes, hard and glittering, settled on mine that I realized I wasn’t getting through to him.
The line moved forward, and we walked to the curtain. I laced my fingers through Josh’s, pulling on his arm to make him look at me again. “You don’t understand.”
And then we were onstage, with hundreds of pairs of eyes trained on us. I pasted a winning smile on my face. Josh squared his shoulders.
The audience hushed, and the adjudicator nodded her head to the violinist, who picked up her bow.
The girls in the Tweedledum costumes went first. They were quick and funny, adding in hand movements and hard shoe steps that were not allowed in the more rigid solo dancing. The audience loved them, and they were still clapping when the next duet took the floor. The black dresses danced a more traditional dance in soft shoe with a showy flair. Only the cat couple was left to dance before us. I clung to Josh’s hand, my heart beating so hard I could hear it over the music. It couldn’t wait—I had to tell Josh now, before we danced.
“Josh,” I hissed, my mouth still smiling. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I turned my head away from the dancers to face him, not caring if the judge saw me.
“I need you to know something.”
He glanced at the judge. “Not now.”
I took a deep breath. If Josh wouldn’t listen to what I had to say, I would just have to show him.
The cat dancers bowed and we walked to the center of the stage. Near the curtain, Rourke stood next to Leah, his eyes focused on the two of us. All our months of training would come down to this performance. But my goals had changed, and I no longer cared if we took first place. I just wanted to apologize to Josh, and tell him how much he meant to me. I snuck a last look at him, but he was still focused on the judge.
The music began, a light, fast reel that was entirely at odds with how I felt. I counted the beats in my head, and we broke away toward separate corners at the back of the stage, each of us doing our own simple treble reel step. I smiled, trying to pull emotion from inside of me and push it into my dance. My steps rang out, loud and clear, but I felt flat and empty.
I circled to Josh and stood, one hand on my hip, watching as he began his solo. He turned to me, but his eyes were on his feet as he went through the motions. He glanced up only once, and a flash of hurt radiated through me, striking me to the center. I ached with the pain I had caused him.
Just before he gave the floor back to me, I closed my eyes, focusing on the part of me that held emotions for Josh. I knew in my heart that I didn’t want to be without him, and I willed that feeling to flow from me toward him on the stage. My feet began to move, clicking out a syncopated rhythm that strengthened me with each step.
Josh joined me in the center of the stage and we moved side by side, each of us still dancing our own version of the treble reel. I turned my head to him and willed him to look at me, but he gazed straight ahead, focusing on the footwork.
I could feel Josh slipping away from me. If I didn’t catch his attention right now, he would never know how I felt. The music surged onward, pulsing in my blood.
I prepped for a front click and landed, not in front of the judge, but with my back to her, my body facing Josh. He faltered, but recovered. His eyes finally locked with mine. The intensity of his gaze fanned the spark deep inside, and heat spread through me like a wildfire. My feet flew.
And suddenly, all the emotion I had for Josh and more broke loose in a tidal wave of adrenaline that filled my body, spilling out through the expression on my face.
Josh’s eyes widened with a question. He searched my face, seeking out what I knew he would find there. The muscles in his jaw relaxed as the realization came to him. His eyes were clear, and I could see through them to the joy he felt dancing with me.
Forgotten were the hundreds of eyes on me. Gone were my hesitance and the wall that had kept us apart. Josh and I were finally in sync. He took both of my hands, and we spun around, our fingers locked together for stability.
Josh circled around me, his steps deliberate and sure. I mirrored his movements. His hand went to my waist, and I gasped as he pulled me to him. I pressed my hands against his chest. He looked down at me and a rush of emotions crashed into my own, like two ocean waves clapping together in a stormy sea. My legs felt weak, and I let Josh spin me. He linked my arm with his and we leapt in unison, facing the crowd and matching each other’s rhythm as if we were one.
I wanted to dance like this forever, with Josh at my side.
The music wound toward the end, but we just increased the intensity. Side by side, we danced steps that were simple but precise, pulling us into a crescendo that accelerated toward the finish.
Josh held his hand out, directing the audience to focus on me. I prepared, and leaped. And Josh’s strong hands were there to catch me. I hung, suspended in the air, before he pulled me to him and spun, lowering me to the ground in front of the judge just as the music’s final notes rang out.
Our chests heaved, but Josh’s smile was so infectious I couldn’t help but grin back. I didn’t need to see the wonder on his face to know how he felt. I felt it for both of us. The crowd clapped and hooted. We straightened and bowed to the judge before exiting through the curtain.
My body shook with a
drenaline, and I panted from the combined exertion of communicating with my gift and dancing full-out. Josh put his hand on the small of my back and led me to a chair backstage.
He turned me to face him, his hands on my shoulders. “What was that? I thought—I don’t know what to think.”
I stopped him, putting a finger to his lips. I couldn’t help the smile that grew again as I watched him study my face.
Rourke and Leah came around the curtain.
“You were wonderful!” Leah crushed me to her while Rourke shook Josh’s hand. When Rourke turned to me he hesitated, but I threw my arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his jacket. He patted me on the back.
Well done, he signed to us both. A little love goes a long way. He attempted to cover up the pride he felt for us, but I could tell he was pleased.
I glanced at Josh, suddenly shy about my display of emotions. He smiled down at me and squeezed my hand in his. Electricity tingled from my fingers, up and down my arm.
“Don’t change out of your shoes yet,” Leah told us before they went back to the bleachers. “They will announce the winners right away.”
I bounced up and down on my toes. Josh smiled at my anticipation. “McKayla McCleery, I do believe that you are nervous.” The announcer prompted all of the dancers who participated in specials to come back out. Josh led me back through the curtain and onto the dance floor.
A podium had been placed onstage. We stood next to the other dancers across the back. The combined nervousness of the group settled like a lump in my stomach.
“Two-hand results,” The announcer began. Fourth place was called and the girls in the black dresses followed each other onto the podium. In third was the Tweedledum pair, who jumped up to accept their trophies to the sound of applause.
It came down to two couples—us, and the kitty pair.
I looked at Josh. He was already focused on me. I squeezed his hand.
The announcer spoke loudly. “Second place goes to Michelle Jefferies and Victoria Lambourne.”
We won. The surprise in Josh’s face matched the shock I felt. The other dancers made way for us as our names were called out. We stepped up onto the podium, and the adjudicator presented us each with a trophy. It felt heavy in my hands, and I hugged it to my chest. The crowd cheered and hooted. Josh focused on me, ignoring the flashes from the cameras that recorded this moment, this pause in time when at last he knew of my feelings for him.
When we stepped off the podium, I was attacked from behind. Zoey wrapped her arms around me. “You got a trophy!” she squealed. I found my parents in the audience. Dad had his arm around Mom. He gave me a thumbs-up. Aunt Avril was on her feet, clapping, to the dismay of those sitting behind her on the bleachers. The excitement in the room was tangible, and I couldn’t remember when I’d felt so happy.
Only when I looked for Rourke did I notice that not everyone in the room was as ecstatic as myself.
Leah stood by the door, her hands on her hips, her face drawn and upset. Rourke signed to her so quickly that I couldn’t understand what he was saying. She shook her head and left the gym. Josh saw her leave, and I could sense that he shared my apprehension about the days to come. What would Leah do when Rourke was gone?
I changed into my street clothes, glad to get out of my hot costume. Only a few of us were left in the gym now, gathering our things, along with a few weary-looking people wearing official feis t-shirts who were busy breaking down the stages.
Josh sat next to my dress bag on the bleachers, leaning back with one arm stretched out on the bench next to him. His hair was mussed and his eyes were closed. He looked completely exhausted. My heart skipped a beat, and I fought down a squeal. The newness of my feelings for him had me walking on a cloud.
When I climbed to the bleachers to meet him, Josh opened his eyes.
“Where did everyone go?” I asked.
“I told your dad they didn’t have to wait, and that I would bring you home. Zoey looked pretty tuckered out.”
I grinned, looking forward to spending time with Josh.
Shouldering my dance bag, Josh reached for my hand. I curled my fingers around his, waiting for him to stand next to me. He gave my arm a playful tug, and I fell into his lap. I yelped, hyperaware of the warmth of his body and the nearness of his face.
I looked around the gym, but no one was paying attention to the stragglers on the bleachers. Josh put his hands on either side of my waist. His emotions were strong—a mixture of happiness and wonder that knotted with my own until I couldn’t tell where his feelings ended and mine began.
“This isn’t some trick is it?” Josh leaned his forehead against mine. “You didn’t dance that way just to get a good performance out of me?”
“Of course not.” My arms were in the way. I raised them and linked my hands behind his head, my fingers brushing the curls at the nape of his neck.
“You look like a princess.”
“A princess?” That was a little sappy, even for me.
Josh traced his fingers along the edge of my tiara. I had forgotten to take it off. I reached up to unpin it from my hair.
“No, leave it.” Josh lifted my chin with his fingers, his thumb rubbing against my cheek. “I like it even better than one of Christa’s ‘milk maid’ creations.”
I laughed, releasing all of the emotion I had been keeping inside. Keeping for him.
Josh stroked my cheek, and tipped my chin. When our lips met, I melted into his embrace. His kiss was warm, caressing away all of the worry I’d kept inside. All of the emotion I’d danced for Josh, in front of everyone in the gym, couldn’t compare to the euphoria of that moment. My insides ignited, spreading warmth up my spine and out until my fingers and toes tingled.
Leah walked next to Rourke on the sidewalk in town, the unspoken words between them as glaring to her as the sun glinting off of the new-fallen snow.
When David had died, Leah had taken all of the unraveled ends of herself and tucked them safely away, hiding her emotions in an attempt to cope with the loss. Life wasn’t supposed to turn out that way—her dreams of having a family and starting a dance school ripped out from underneath her when she had barely begun to build them.
Rourke had walked into her studio that first day, opening the door to that place in her heart that lay dormant. Over these last weeks, she’d learned to understand his quirks, his mysterious conversations, and his unpredictable moods. Though he came off as rough and unapproachable, Leah could now see through the mask he had made for himself. And when Rourke danced—Leah caught glimpses of the person inside. He danced with such abandon and emotion that Leah experienced the story of his dance right along with him.
Leah risked a glance at Rourke now. His black wool coat was buttoned tight against the cold, and his hands were tucked into his jean pockets, cutting off any means of communication. He stared straight ahead, lost in his own thoughts.
Asking Rourke to go for a walk had been impulsive. In holding on to Rourke, Leah knew she might be grasping at something that was already gone. He didn’t seem to want to talk about it, but she needed to let him know that she wasn’t afraid of whatever it was that he faced.
She squeezed her eyes shut. What if Rourke had a terminal illness? For days she had worried it out in her mind. Could she go through another illness like David’s, only to sit empty-handed again on the other end? Yes, she decided, she had to try. That’s what love was all about.
A side road veered off to the fairgrounds and Rourke followed it. Snow crunched beneath their boots. The cold air and silent streets amplified the crisp, squeaky sound. Leah wanted to reach out to Rourke, to put her arm in his and make him look at her. Instead, she rubbed her hands together.
When they reached the fairgrounds, Leah followed Rourke into a rodeo arena. Leah’s foot slid on the newly fallen snow, and Rourke grasped her arm as she threw it out to catch herself. Their eyes met, and Leah’s chest tightened at the warmth of his touch, e
ven through her coat. Rourke nudged the snow under his boot, revealing a sheet of ice as smooth as glass.
“It’s an ice skating rink,” Leah said in surprise. For two years she had lived right next-door to the fairgrounds, and never knew that the rodeo arena was transformed into an ice skating rink in winter. Snow lay like a blanket, smooth and untouched on top of the ice. Leah slid carefully, one foot at a time. Rourke walked away from her again.
Leah cleared her throat. “I looked through your notes on the final scene. There are only a few things I’ll need your help with.”
Rourke nodded, but kept walking away from Leah, each footstep in the pristine snow lengthening the distance between them.
“Don’t pull away from me Rourke,” Leah’s voice came out sounding small. “You don’t have to leave. Stay and let me help you with—with whatever it is you are dealing with.”
Rourke pulled his hands from his pockets. Don’t ask me to stay.
“Why? Shouldn’t I want you to stay?”
It’s complicated.
“I’ve been there, Rourke. I know complicated.”
Don’t make this harder on yourself, Leah.
“What is it? Why won’t you confide in me? Are you afraid that I won’t be able to handle it?”
It’s not that at all.
“Whatever you are going through, I want to help you, to be with you.” Tightness crept into her throat, making her voice strained. Rourke wasn’t like anyone she had ever met. He had said things, done things that made her wonder about his past. But she had still hoped they might have a future together. “Are you sick? Is it terminal?”
The question hung in the air between them. Rourke regarded her with solemn eyes before answering with a single hand stroke.
No.
Relief flooded through Leah. She closed the space between them, stepping in Rourke’s tracks. She took one of his hands in hers. “Let me in.”
Rourke’s eyes softened, and Leah saw hope reflected there before the hard determination crept back in, transforming his face back to a wall of stone. He dropped her hand to speak.
Awakening (Book One of The Geis) Page 24