Match Pointe

by Amélie S. Duncan

  Fuck me. Sweat broke out on my body and my pulse hammered, but I forced my breath to stay calm. Being too lost in my head had just cost me. Easing my hand inside my suit jacket, I took out my wallet slowly and he snatched it away. I stumbled, and he dug whatever weapon he had in his hand back into my back.

  “Don’t move. Keep your hands up,” he hissed.

  My jaw clenched. Which one is it, asshole? I put my hands up and out.

  He didn’t know what he was doing, but he wasn’t digging his weapon into me anymore. Still, I remained tensed. He wouldn’t get much. I didn’t carry much cash, and my cards were secure so they wouldn’t allow a charge for something out of the ordinary. Sure, I wanted to grab his neck and slam him on the ground, but where the fuck would that get me? A shot in the back and I’d be done for.

  My wallet wasn’t enough for him. He patted my side pocket and took out my house keys. “Where’s your car?”

  “That’s the keys to my home.” I gnashed my teeth. “I’m drinking, not driving.”

  The back door opened and I dived away while the asshole ran off with my shit.

  He left me with no choice but to wait for the police to come to the club. After they were done, my second exit was less discreet.

  Flash photography left me dazed before the police cleared the paparazzi away and gave me a lift home. Shit.

  A black eye, a stop at the bar, and a ride home from the police?

  Once the paps figured out the photos were me again, they’d run their spin—even though they’d seen me get in the front seat. Why bother with the truth when it wasn’t as interesting of a story?

  What would Scarlet think? I reached around for my phone in the front pocket of my suit and was relieved to find he’d forgotten it. It had one bar left in the battery. The message box was full of my teammates and family members, and not a one of the messages was good.

  Ruining her reputation—how could you?

  Forbidden fruit not so sweet now. Fucking six games, you fucked up the season!

  They wanted five athletes and now we left them with four. God, can’t you just find someone else to fuck around with?

  I kept them all. I deserved every one of them.

  “Got someone to let you in your place?” the police officer asked when we got close to my building.

  I stared off in the distance. “No.” There was no one who wanted to see me or who I wanted to see me like that.

  It was lighter outside by the time the locksmith let me through my door. A second call out in just a few weeks—he must have been making a packet from me alone.

  Once inside, my mind overloaded with every moment I’d had with Scarlet. There wasn’t a place inside she hadn’t left a mark on, including me. I could still catch her floral scent on the sheets, and I wanted her with me, but she wanted her time. Once she was away from me, she’d see I’d messed up everything for her. She’d realize there wasn’t one good reason for her to come back to me.

  MICHEL HANDED ME A TOWEL at the end of practice at the home studio. I’d taken him up on his offer to keep my dance routine going during my suspension. “You’re going to be fine, and if not, you will work until you are.”

  I nodded in agreement, though a nervous chill ran down my spine. “Thank you.”

  Even though I had managed to practice every day, I’d be behind wherever the company was when I returned the next day. How far, I’d find out when I danced. How long would all be up to me, and I was anxious to get back.

  I picked up my phone and quickly checked the status of an expected delivery to my new place. It had taken almost two weeks for a one-bedroom apartment in Zoey’s building on West 77th to be ready, and I’d house sat for one of Michel’s friends in the meantime. It was well worth the wait. Not only would I have my best friend nearby, it was spacious, modern, a short walk to work, and best of all, mine—although not a big hit with Michel, who didn’t hide how much he missed having me around.

  “I know I can’t persuade you to stay for dinner, but would you please let me give you a ride back to your place?” he pleaded.

  I pointed down to my feet and flexed them. “I’m all set.”

  “You can be on your own and still take a ride home,” Michel protested. “Tyler has his hands full.”

  I dipped my head and my heart turned over. Michel mentioning Tyler was his way of getting me to talk about him, but I hadn’t much to share. We hadn’t seen each other in the last two weeks. The first week were mainly the two of us holding our breaths in hopes our story wouldn’t make the press. The only thing that had was a story about Tyler’s arrest, which had been retracted after he filed suit against the news magazines that ran the false story. Even I had to admit, the image of the black eye and cop car appeared damaging, although I had been there when it happened. My brother Antony, whom I hadn’t talked to since, had done it, and he’d been fortunate that Tyler had chosen not to reveal the cause of the black eye or file charges. Instead, he’d made a statement that he’d donate the settlement to the joint program and foundation, should he win. I was proud of him.

  Michel hugged my shoulder, bringing me back from my thoughts. “Is Tyler back from the away games?”

  I nodded. He had attended his team’s away games to support them even though he hadn’t been allowed to play. “He has a game tomorrow.”

  “See him,” Michel said. “You fought us all to have him. Don’t shut him out. Let him support you.”

  I agreed. Tyler and I had both stood up for our relationship and taken the consequences. However, I needed to take care of some things myself before I brought him back into my life. That said, I didn’t want to be without him for long. I only hoped he was still willing to wait for me.

  “I will,” I said. “Very soon.”

  Michel kissed my cheeks and I was on the way to the front door when my bag slipped from my shoulder. A quick examination of the worn strap let me know I’d need to replace it soon. Once I was sure it was secure enough not to explode on the street, I returned to the door. Before I left, Priscilla stepped into the hallway. The initial elation at seeing her face quickly changed to a knot in my stomach. Even if it had been weeks, I still hadn’t gotten past her interference.

  “Scarlet, can we please talk?”

  “I don’t have time,” I said politely. “I need to get home.”

  She came closer. “I want you to know that I never wanted you to move out.”

  “It’s for the best,” I responded, sardonic. “I must go. See you soon, Michel,” I said to him when he reached her side.

  She stopped me again by saying, “I talked to your mother today. She will not be needing surgery.”

  I gave her a nod and a lump lodged in my throat. “I know.”

  Vince, Phillip, and Antony had all sent me texts to let me know; Ma was still upset and not speaking to me.

  “She’s very pleased that you’ve been working hard on your dancing every day,” she added. “Are you and Tyler seeing each other? Your mother calls me every day to ask, but I don’t have anything to share because you’re not talking to me.” Her tone was casual, but I wasn’t fooled.

  My lips twisted into a smile. Out of all the things that had gone wrong, it pleased me to no end that Priscilla couldn’t be an informant. “Ma’s got my number. As for Tyler, he respects my need to handle things on my own for now. He’s still in my life and he’s not going anywhere.” Now report that back.

  She covered her mouth with her hand and my stomach sank. I hated hurting her, but I wouldn’t go back to being her perfect princess. “Good night, Priscilla. I hope one day you’ll understand.”

  “Please.” She took my hands. “I really thought that by speaking with Christophe and your mom, I was helping you. I believe in your talent and drive to become a principal dancer one day. What I did came from love, not because I want to ruin you having a relationship, but you both hid and had Michel keeping secrets from me.”

  Michel immediately came to my defense. “They both tried to tel
l you that evening.”

  She nodded. “I know that now, but honestly what I’d known about Tyler was that he was suspended, but trying to keep with the program, which I was more than happy to support. Then I come to find out he’s been secretly seeing you, not to mention his playboy reputation. I panicked. I’m sorry, and I’ll apologize to you both for the way I behaved. You came here for support, not more restriction. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not perfect, but I love you.”

  Priscilla’s perspective provided more clarity about what I had thought was a betrayal on her part. Truthfully, it was our own doing. If it hadn’t been her, someone else would have told, and what I realized in that moment was that neither of us was perfect, and she had taken the first step in repairing our relationship.

  I took the next.

  I went into her open arms and saw the joy on Michel’s face over her shoulder as I smiled back at him. After telling her I loved her and another goodbye to them both, I left.

  The sky was blanketed with clouds, mostly dark gray. Rain was coming soon and had me hurrying on the two-mile walk from their home to my own, with only the distraction of lilies and nectarines that got me to spend a few dollars before arriving at my new apartment. I made it just in time. After the delivery person tried a few positions, they got the plastic casing through my narrow front door. I was overjoyed.

  I set up the wooden coffee table in my small living dinette area, along with a small vase of flowers and a bowl of nectarines. I was so pleased with the aesthetic that I took my phone out to take a photo, and I sent it along to the two people I thought would appreciate it most, Zoey and Tyler.

  Zoey sent me a thumbs-up along with, Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

  I couldn’t either, no matter what came my way.

  Scarlet.Ricci: Me neither. Going in early.

  Zoey.Wilson: BTW, Quinn’s available. He said he’d go out with you again

  She had to be joking.

  Scarlet.Ricci: Tell him I’m still sick

  After a few minutes of my pulse racing, I dialed Tyler’s number. He answered on the first ring and said, “Cute photo, but take another one and include your beautiful face.” The pleasure in his voice and his flattery had my heart skipping a beat. “Tell me about the rest of the setup of your new home.”

  I looked around and gave him a description. “I have a fabric couch, Berber carpet with some laminated floors, two large windows in the living room that are just like Zoey’s, and very plain white walls that are begging for a few pieces of art.”

  “What would you like?” he asked. “I can send you a housewarming present.”

  I whined in an exaggerated way. “You’ve already given me a juicer and a grocery gift card for more food than I’ll get this year, besides the three days off my suspension. That’s already too much.”

  “It’s nothing,” he said, his tone softening. “My lawyer tried for more, but the company wouldn’t budge. I’m sorry—sorry about a lot of things with you.”

  “Don’t be,” I pleaded. “We’ll get past it, and everything else.”

  Everything else was a new start and a way back together.

  “Can I see you after my game?” he asked. “I won’t take too much of your time and I’ll take you straight home afterward.” The pain in his voice had me wanting to scream yes. Still, I didn’t know how I’d feel after my first day back. Therefore, I told him, “I’ll try…I’ll call either way.”

  “Oh, okay,” he said. “Thank you. I miss you, sweetheart.”

  My heart warmed. “I miss you too,” I said softly then ended the call.

  I love you.

  I went to bed early, but I hardly slept, too anxious to return to dance. I gave up around four and was the first one outside the door when they opened the studio. After a warm-up, I took to the polished floor and stretched, twirled, and leapt until the fear I had subsided and the familiarity of the place set back in.

  The ballet was my home, and I was determined it would always be—or at least that was my mindset until the first cuts came on my way into the dressing room.

  “Did you see her in the studio?” Right away, I recognized the voice as Yasmine. “She’s trying to act like she didn’t do anything.”

  Claudette cackled. “Oh, I bet she did something to get Tyler to be with her. I still don’t know why he chose her.”

  Yasmine snorted. “I told you her innocent shit was all an act. I was sure I saw her sneaking around with him a few weeks back. I even told Irena, but she dismissed me. Christophe was furious when I told him she knew about it.”

  “Rumor has it Irena’s looking for a new job,” Claudette said with a snicker.

  My stomach lurched. Had Irena lost her job for trusting me?

  “That’s the only good thing about it. I got the solo demos,” Yasmine said. “Christophe has put me forward with the board to do the press and luncheon for the joint program.”

  “That’s good, but, well…” Claudette said.

  “What?” Yasmine snipped.

  “We’re the only ones talking about it now,” Claudette said. “It never made it to the press, and you know the instructors still have a thing for her. They’ll just go back to giving her special treatment.”

  “No special treatment,” I said, announcing my presence and walking over to my cabinet. “I work just like the rest of you.”

  “On your back,” Claudette quipped, and they all laughed.

  “Jealousy is a cruel thing,” I said calmly.

  “Leave her alone,” Zoey said, walking in and giving me a hug. “I’m glad to have you back.”

  “No one is jealous of you,” Yasmine snipped. “You’re nothing but another slut chasing after a pro athlete. Around here, you’re nobody they want to use for anything. I have your gala solo, and I hear Zoey’s been rehearsing Sugar Plum Fairy.”

  I blinked at Zoey and she averted her gaze. “I was just asked to work on the dance. It’s not official that I’m a soloist or taking over.”

  I hugged her. “I believe you should be a soloist, Zoey. I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving. I’d be happy if they did give you Sugar Plum Fairy.”

  “Thank you, Scarlet.” She hugged me tightly.

  We let go of each other and finished getting ready for the start of practice.

  I hydrated and fixed my shoes before returning to the studio, taking a place at the back. When the room filled with the rest of the company and the scents of liquid skin, tiger balm, and sweat crossed my senses, I could have wept. This was my world, and I reveled in it.

  Christophe entered and immediately went into warm-ups, then called Yasmine to his side, where he confirmed what she had said in the changing room. “Yasmine will be the spokesperson for the joint program as well as other pursuits we will be presenting soon. From now on, she’ll be working as my assistant for the class. Irena will move on to more administrative responsibilities.”

  I was relieved to know she hadn’t been fired. He went through our usual routine and demonstration then divided us into groups and did assessments on our progress.

  “Good form, Zoey. Watch your lift, Claudette.”

  And then it was my turn. I did my leap and my landing on point.

  Christophe looked right through me. “Let’s move on.”

  That was the way the practices and rehearsals went throughout the day.

  My heart shattered by the end and I had to clench my hand to stifle the sobs that rose in my throat, not wanting to hear anyone attempt to encourage me when what I saw was painfully obvious: no praise, no reprimand, nothing. Yasmine was right—I no longer exist.

  Before the end of the afternoon practice, he announced, “We have seats near the sidelines for today’s soccer game. I expect all of you to go and support the participants and players in the show. I won’t lie, the sales for the event are low. We need all your support on this.”

  I stared down at my feet, not able to help feeling responsible and less certain I should go. However, I had t
old Tyler I’d meet him there. I thought perhaps I should get a ticket on my own, and with that in mind, I quickly changed, attempting to avoid any more of Yasmine’s and Claudette’s catty posturing, then my handbag slipped again and the contents fell out.

  I went to push them all back in when one of my tampons caught my eye and my mind did a quick run-through. When was my last period?

  Zoey tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention then asked, “Do you want to ride with me up to Yankee Stadium?”

  I secured my bag back on my shoulder. “No…um, I mean, I’m going, but I shouldn’t sit with the company.”

  “Of course you should. This is still your family,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  I nodded and tensed. She was right. “All right. I’ll go.”

  Our step out into the hallway had us crossing Christophe’s path.

  “On your way to support our company?” His gaze was sharp when he landed on me, making me focus on the scuffs on my shoes. I’d have to get past my embarrassment about disappointing him soon.

  “Yes,” Zoey answered. “We both are.”

  “Make sure you have your uniform on for the photos we arranged,” he said to Zoey.

  “Yes, Christophe,” she said, unzipping the front of her tracksuit to reveal a blue leotard. “My skirt and instructions are in the bag.”

  He gave her a nod and said, “See you both there. Don’t be late.”

  We got in her car and I Googled directions as we caught up with each other on what was going on. She was still dating Kyle, but he was already complaining about her dance schedule. Tyler may have wanted to see me, but he understood the practice and dedication that was needed to dance. He had the same commitment to soccer.

  “So how are you settling in?” she asked.

  I launched into some of my recent purchases and discoveries in our neighborhood, which had us both exchanging ideas for places to go together when our schedules allowed for it.