First Position

by Melissa Brayden

  And Natalie was now a part of it all.

  As she made her way across the street with Audrey and Helen en route to their building, Natalie found herself high on life and encouraged by the choice she’d made to follow Roger to New York. She was doing it—holding her own with these ballet folks and having some fun in the process. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

  “Hey,” she said, stopping their progress in front of the elevator. Audrey and Helen turned to her mid-laugh, sobering once they caught the sincerity in her demeanor. “I survived my first day, and part of that is because of you guys. So thank you.”

  Audrey, who was extra warm and fuzzy due to the beverages she’d consumed, pulled Natalie into a tight hug. “You’re gonna do just fine here, Natalie whatever-your-last-name-is. You’re a cool girl.” And then because Audrey forgot to release her, Helen politely pulled Audrey’s arms off Natalie, who regarded her new friend in amusement.

  “You guys don’t drink too often, do you?” Natalie asked.

  “Not in the course of the season,” Helen said. “But we had to celebrate the first day back and your victory! Now I have to go home and crash so I can find a way to learn the new choreo in class tomorrow.”

  “Night, you party animals,” Natalie said as the elevator let her off on the seventh floor.

  “Don’t wake up Frozen,” Audrey said from the elevator in an overinflated whisper. Natalie shot them the thumbs-up sign and headed down her hallway in an exaggerated creep for the benefit of her new friends. Once the elevator door closed, she straightened and passed Ana’s door. She paused a moment, wondering if inside Ana was already asleep or perhaps working meticulously to organize her pointe shoes in age order. She suppressed an eye roll and headed into her apartment, intent on not letting thoughts of Ana Mikhelson and her pristine technique ruin her buzz.

  Chapter Five

  “One, two, three, four, five, six.” Roger stood in the corner of the room and clapped out the beat as Ana moved through the new combination that would serve as the ballet’s opening sequence. Music from the piano echoed across the studio’s expanse. The choreography was intricate, and the timing everything. Ana had arrived early that morning to warm up properly, to prep her body, but found the regime interrupted when Natalie joined her.

  “Hey, Ana M.,” she’d said upon entering the space.

  “Good morning.” Ana had passed her a glance as Natalie slung her dance bag onto the chair and went about pulling her hair into a ponytail. She took a spot at the barre and began to stretch just a few feet down from Ana.

  “We had a great time at McKenna’s last night. That’s a pretty cool place. Have you been?”

  “I have, yes,” Ana said, and pressed her torso to her shin, willing herself to concentrate on her warm-up. However, Natalie apparently had other ideas.

  “One of the things I really like about New York—everything’s so packed together. I had forgotten.”

  “That it is.” If she kept her answers short, maybe Natalie would get the picture and let her focus on what she was there to do, work. She wasn’t interested in being best buddies with the other dancers, and certainly not Natalie, of all people.

  “So have you lived here your whole life?” Natalie asked brightly. “In Manhattan?”

  “We lived in Brooklyn and commuted to the city.”

  “I imagine it must have been quite a head trip, growing up with a famous father.”

  Ana moved her stretches to the floor. “I wouldn’t know the difference.”

  Natalie laughed wryly, and the robustness of the sound had Ana’s attention. It wasn’t put on or obligatory. She had a feeling Natalie wasn’t into pretense. “Trust me. When your parents are nobody from nowhere, it makes things a little more complicated.”

  “In what way?”

  “You know, standing in line with hundreds of other kids in the rain in front of a theatre. Dancing with a number on your chest hoping to get noticed and offered some kind of chance.”

  Ana bristled at the implication and straightened from her spot on the floor, now fully involved in the conversation, her defenses engaged. “Are you saying I’ve gotten to where I am because of who my father is?”

  Natalie’s eyes went wide. “Absolutely not. I’m just saying it couldn’t have hurt, as far as the number wearing went.”

  “And how would you know that?” Ana felt the anger hit and the surge of energy that moved through her at the challenge. Natalie had touched on a sensitive topic, as Ana had spent much of her life working overtime to prove herself as a worthy dancer in her own right.

  “Listen, I’m not professing to know anything. I would just imagine if Klaus Mikhelson were my father, I might have had a few more contacts in the dance world starting out.”

  Ana lifted her hand in the air. “Yet here you are anyway. Skipping the hard stuff. I don’t remember the entire story, but what was it that brought you to SAB all those years ago?”

  “I won a national competition and it came with a scholarship. I couldn’t have afforded it otherwise. My dad works in insurance, and my mom stayed at home with us. Two brothers totally obsessed with football, and me.”

  “So you were handed a fantastic opportunity and you walked away.” Ana couldn’t fathom it.

  “It wasn’t where I was supposed to be.”

  “And this is?”

  Natalie seemed to make a decision and knelt next to her. “Can we back up? Because I feel like I’ve upset you, and that was so not the goal of this little powwow. Quite the opposite actually, so how about some sort of peace offering?”

  “I’m fine. Just ready to get started. Can I have a little space?”

  Natalie held up her hands and stood, exasperation in her eyes. “Your wish is granted. God, do you ever lighten up? I’ll give you one thing, Ana. You’re certainly consistent.”

  Shortly after the exchange, Roger had joined them and they’d embarked upon one of the more grueling rehearsals Ana could remember participating in. All the while, the interplay with Natalie from earlier loomed over her like a thick, dark raincloud, pulling at her for reasons she couldn’t quite assemble. Consistent? What did that mean? And then there was the feel of Natalie’s eyes on her as she danced, which made Ana feel self-conscious in the most irritating sense. Because of course Natalie would watch her work. That’s what this joint rehearsal was for, to prep both of them for the same part. Still, she found Natalie’s presence distracting, and its effect grated on her.

  In fact, everything about Natalie Frederico annoyed Ana.

  As Ana spun across the floor, she felt that aggravation move through her in one wave after another. Natalie’s unprecedented hiring into the company. A leap. The cavalier manner in which she’d arrived late for the first class of the season. A pirouette. The coveted role she’d snagged without even trying. Frappé. The fact that Ana couldn’t shake thoughts of her. Land and pose.

  She heard the final notes reverberate and fade and relaxed from her ending position to find Roger, and secondarily, Natalie staring at her with interest.

  “What was that?” Roger asked.

  She took a moment with the question, knowing that she’d been less than present on the run-through. “Sorry. I think I was distracted. I can try again.”

  Roger moved to her quickly, a new intensity crossing his features. “Distracted in the best way possible, apparently. You came alive in that variation. I don’t know who that was out there, but I want her back.”

  She inclined her head, struggling to understand. “That’s what you want?”

  He motioned to her dance space. “That was the first time you’ve shown me any kind of character. Visceral. Aware. Raw. I don’t know what you tapped into just now, but I need more of it. And fast. Natalie, you’re up. Same variation.”

  Ana took a seat along the wall, still mystified by the feedback and grappling to piece together exactly what she had done so she could find some way to replicate it in the future. The problem was that she simply had no clue
. She ran through her technique and realized that nothing had changed. Instead of beating her head against the wall in confusion, she blew out a breath and watched Natalie dance.

  At first she smiled as she watched, taking enjoyment in the extensions that she knew fell slightly short of her own and the posture that wasn’t quite there, mentally patting herself on the back as the stronger dancer in the room. But then something unexpected happened. Ana’s critical eye, that ever-present need to critique each and every movement of a fellow dancer, drifted away and she lost herself in the performance. Something she hadn’t done since she was a child, watching her first few ballets from the fourth ring of Lincoln Center with her nanny. The thing was, Natalie didn’t just move with the music, she melded herself to it in a heart-wrenching playout. The longer Ana watched, the more it affected her. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Natalie knew how to communicate each nuanced emotion through dance. She wasn’t a precise dancer, but she delivered a moving performance, which counted for a lot.

  The rest of the afternoon had them learning more of the choreography, side by side in front of the mirror with Roger’s assistant. As much as Ana concentrated on her own understanding of the work, she stole glances at Natalie here and there, her interest piqued at Natalie’s process, how she transformed each beat into an expression of character. Because maybe there was something she could learn from this process after all. Who would have thought?

  “Where you headed?” Natalie called after her as she pushed through the glass double doors into the chilly air outside. Dusk had fallen in full effect around Lincoln Center, and the sidewalks bustled with people headed to shows, dinner, or home from work.

  “My apartment,” Ana answered.

  “I’m headed home, too. I’ll walk with you.”

  “Fabulous,” Ana said half to Natalie, half to herself. Her natural inclination to avoid people kicked into gear but she did her best to override it.

  They walked in silence to the train, dodging pedestrians along the way. “I thought it was a productive rehearsal,” Natalie offered as they descended the stairs to the Sixty-Sixth Street station. “Can we talk about your amazing breakthrough?”

  Ana took a beat with that. “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Oh,” Ana said, as guilt struck. She turned to Natalie and leveled with her. “I’m bad sometimes. With people. And their styles of communication.”

  Natalie passed her an amused grin. “You just need more people practice. Good thing I’m here.”

  “Right,” Ana said nervously, wondering what that meant exactly. Was Natalie expecting they’d spend much time together?

  “Roger was right, you know. Something came over you and you took off during that third run-through. You were virtually on fire. In a good way.”

  “I wish I could tell you what it was,” Ana said. They arrived on the platform and she met Natalie’s eyes. Something about them seemed kind, devoid of judgment, and that allowed Ana to say what she did next. “Honestly, I have no idea what it was, and now my head is a mess trying to figure it out. I didn’t change a single execution. If anything, I was distracted.”

  “Thinking about what?”

  She opened her mouth to answer and then closed it again. She couldn’t tell Natalie that she’d been thinking about her and how wildly frustrating she found her. “My grocery list.”

  Natalie laughed. “Riveting.”

  “See what I mean?”

  “I do. Sounds like you’re screwed.”

  “Exactly what I’m saying.” They were laughing now, which was new…and kind of refreshing. They stood in silence on the train until Natalie turned to her.

  “Okay. So I’m thinking that it had to be something beyond technique. Maybe your grocery list distraction freed up a part of your brain, and your self-awareness fell away. Either that or your grocery list inspired some major emotional responses. My advice? Don’t overthink it. Let it float back to you on its own.”

  Ana raised an eyebrow. “Let it float back to me? I’m not sure that’s the best course of action. I’m looking for something a bit more, I don’t know, results oriented. I’m going to be up all night dissecting it all as it is.”

  “Here’s the thing. You can’t control everything. Sometimes you just have to let life happen.” The F train made its first stop, which freed up two seats they immediately snagged.

  “Easier said than done,” Ana said.

  “I don’t know about that. Have you tried it? Letting go for a bit?”

  Ana thought on this. “Seems counterproductive.”

  Natalie leveled her with a long look. “That’s a cop-out, and you know it. Now answer the question for real. Like a human. This can be part of your people practice.”

  Ana took a moment because no one had really called her out, pressed her this way. “Fine. I have had moments of letting go in my life. Just not a lot of them.”

  “And how did those go?”

  Ana glanced around, looking for an escape hatch. “Do we really have to talk about this on the subway?”

  “No one is listening to us.” Natalie hooked a thumb at the guy next to her. “Ear buds, see?” She pointed at the men standing in the aisle. “Thinking about work.” She pointed at the old woman across the way staring at them intently. “Okay, so she’s into it, but no one else. Hello, ma’am.” The woman raised a hand in greeting and seemed to appreciate being included.

  “Fine,” Ana huffed, and then nodded politely to the woman. “Hi. Okay, so when I let go…it can best be described as slightly terrifying.”

  “And what else?”

  “Um…a little bit exhilarating, if I’m being honest.”

  “It would be kind of a time waster if you weren’t. And? What was the end result?” Natalie smiled, waiting on her answer, and Ana couldn’t help but smile back despite her best efforts. Natalie, she was finding, was a little bit contagious.

  “It can be a release.”

  “Of course it can,” Natalie said emphatically. “And if you don’t release the tension that’s building up inside you, sooner or later, you’re gonna blow.”

  “I’m not gonna blow.”

  “Are too.”

  “Are you seriously arguing with me about this? You barely know me.”

  “I know you. I also know that the release can be amazing amounts of fun. You should try it.”

  “I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

  Natalie looked at her like she’d just said the most pitiful thing on planet Earth. “Listen, I don’t want to offend you, because we have this whole working together thing that we’re trying to embrace, but you kind of have one note.”

  “One note. Did you just call me shallow?” Ana asked, incredulous. Had that actually just happened? As in, to her face?

  “I might have, yeah, but it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  “In what universe is shallow considered a good thing?”

  Natalie nodded. “I see your point.”

  They rode in silence the rest of the way to their downtown stop, and not the comfortable kind. Who did this girl think she was exactly, to waltz into Ana’s life and start making unflattering declarations when they were just getting to know each other? The awkward part was that they now had to walk the remaining distance to their across-the-hall apartments. Oh, she had to say “kudos” to the universe for that little stunt. Nice work. Across-the-hall apartments? Seriously?

  Natalie, however, was apparently not finished and raised one finger as they walked. “About the shallow thing, I don’t think that’s the word for it. I’d rather go with uptight, resistant to change.”

  “Which is so much better,” Ana said, staring straight ahead. “You’re batting a thousand here, champ.”

  “C’mon. Would you disagree?”

  Ana sighed. “No, I am uptight. I realize this. Embrace it, even.”

  “Do you? I can’t help but wonder if you loosened up a bit, maybe your dancing would, too.”

&n
bsp; She ruminated on the concept, the point valid. “And how do you propose I do that?”

  Natalie bumped Ana’s shoulder with her own in a move that caught her off guard. “Stick with me.”

  Ana regarded Natalie out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah, I don’t know about that. You’re a wild child and beyond irresponsible.”

  “Thank you. And you don’t have to know. Leave that part to me.” Natalie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and stared at the readout before smiling at the screen and typing back. “My girlfriend,” she said casually. “There’s a spider in the corner of the kitchen and she has this whole thing about them.”

  “Oh,” Ana said, processing the new information. “Do you need to go help her or…?”

  “Would be a long trip. Morgan’s in LA. We’re doing the long-distance thing, which sounds easier than it is.”

  “Oh, I see,” Ana said. The thought of Natalie with a girlfriend prompted an annoying tightening in her stomach. She pushed the sensation aside, along with the tingles that danced across her skin. That had been a stupid reaction, as she was so not into Natalie. “I imagine that’s difficult. The long distance.”

  “Yeah, but we’re doing okay,” Natalie told her. “Well, at least I am.”

  “She’s having a harder time?” Ana wanted to know more, as this new side of Natalie intrigued her beyond what she wanted it to. But at the same time, she realized the question was intrusive. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. That was rude. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Natalie paused in front of their building. “Hang on, because you’re doing that uptight thing again. You asked me a simple question, and it’s perfectly okay to ask those, so now I’m going to answer. Morgan’s always been a little more needy than I am when it comes to having people around her. I’ve just always had a more independent streak. I love being with her, and prefer it, but I do okay on my own, too.”