by Yelana Black
“How would you know that?” Vanessa said quickly.
Justin lowered his eyes, and suddenly Vanessa felt guilty. “People talk,” he said with a shrug. “And the girls—they’re just jealous,” he said quickly, though Vanessa knew he was lying. “No one believes them. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“You did?” Vanessa said, narrowing her eyes. Had Justin actually come to her room late at night to see if she was okay? It seemed out of character. She glanced over his shoulder and down the hall. It was empty.
“What are you looking at?” he said.
“You left your henchmen behind.”
Justin gave her a quizzical look. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The Fratelli twins. They were with you tonight, weren’t they?”
A wave of panic passed over Justin’s face, but he quickly shook it off. “We’re friends,” he said carefully. “Nicholas and Nicola are with me a lot.”
“You don’t have to lie,” Vanessa said, lowering her voice. “I saw you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Tonight. You were all running down Broadway.” Vanessa paused. “Were you following me?”
Justin looked away, fidgeting. “Yes,” he finally admitted, meeting her eye.
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does,” Vanessa said. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were there tonight? And why bring the twins, who have barely ever said two words to me?” She watched him run a hand through his hair again. “What do you want from me?”
“Zeppelin Gray follows you. And you don’t think that’s creepy.”
“Zep is just looking out for me—” Vanessa began to say, when Justin cut her off.
“So am I.”
But Vanessa held up a hand to silence him. “Wait, how did you know that Zep follows me? And why would I need protecting from him?”
“You don’t know what he’s really like,” Justin said.
Vanessa put a hand on her hip. “Oh, and you do?”
“I have some ideas. I’ve known him much longer than you have.”
“I thought you dropped out for three years.”
“I did,” Justin said. “But I saw enough freshman year to know what he was about, and I really don’t think you should be hanging out with him.”
Vanessa leaned on the door frame. “Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous of me and Zep?”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” Justin insisted.
“Right,” Vanessa said. “So you just decided to follow me all evening, then come to my room late at night and knock on my door to make nasty comments about Zep? I mean, do you really expect me to believe—”
“I know.”
“It all makes sense now,” Vanessa said, almost to herself, realizing that maybe Zep was right. “Why I always bump into you, why you’re constantly rude to me—”
“Can you just get over your ego for one minute and listen to me?” Justin said, a little too loudly.
Vanessa went quiet.
“I know you want to think that everyone at NYBA wants to date you, but it’s not true.”
Enraged, Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, but Justin held up a finger and continued.
“Remember in the library when I told you that all the previous lead ballerinas in The Firebird had disappeared? It doesn’t stop there. NYBA has a history of girls going insane before they vanish. Girls start to lose their minds, then they disappear. Girls like Elly, your sister.”
“Elly didn’t disappear. She dropped out. Same with my sister,” Vanessa said.
“That’s how it always starts.”
“How do you know?” Vanessa said. “Why couldn’t they have just dropped out?”
“Because that’s not what happens here.”
A shudder ran up Vanessa’s arms as she thought of the newspaper articles, of the girls who’d disappeared and were never found. Their faces were seared into her head now, no matter how much she wanted to forget them.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Justin said, studying her. “It’s about something … sinister.”
“Sinister?” Vanessa said in disbelief. It was a word she reserved for sorcerers and serial killers. “But the police said they were runaways,” she began, trying to convince him as much as herself.
“Yes, but what do you say?” Justin said. “Your sister disappeared. Did that make sense to you? If she turned up dead in the river, would you accept that?”
His words made her stomach tighten. “My sister isn’t dead,” she said. “And don’t you ever try to convince me that she is.” She took a step back into the safety of her room.
Realizing that he had crossed a line, Justin’s face softened. “Exactly my point.”
Vanessa was about to close the door in his face, but he held it open. “What now?” she asked.
“What about Elly?” Justin persisted. “She didn’t seem like the type to disappear either. Isn’t that a little strange?”
“Elly wrote us an e-mail telling us she was fine.”
“What did it say?”
“That she was at home and didn’t want us to contact her.” But Vanessa knew the e-mail hadn’t sounded like Elly. For a moment, she considered telling Justin about the strange note wrapped around the block of rosin, but she thought better of it. No, Elly was the only person who could give her answers. She had to talk to her.
“You think it out of character,” Justin said, reading her thoughts.
“What I think is none of your business,” she said.
She got ready to shut the door, when Justin spoke. “What if it was?”
Slowly, she looked up and met his gaze, challenging him. “If you want to know what I think, ask me, instead of prowling around at night, trying to squeeze your way into other people’s secrets.” She took a step back into her room. “And if you want so badly to compete with Zep, you should spend less time doing research and more time dancing.”
“I told you before that I wasn’t trying to be a better dancer,” Justin said calmly. “I have personal reasons for wanting to be here. And Zep—well, I already told you how I feel about him. If you don’t want to listen to me, then fine. You can work it out for yourself.”
She glared at his smug face, wishing she could crumple it like a piece of paper. “What exactly does Zep have to do with this?” she asked.
“Nothing yet. But he has the lead role in the production. And you’re—”
“The Firebird,” Vanessa said impatiently. “I know what you’re thinking. That I’m going to disappear and a few weeks later my picture is going to show up in the newspaper as another missing girl.”
Justin went quiet. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.
“Well, I’m fine,” Vanessa said. “And I can take care of myself. Good night.”
She closed the door, a sigh of relief passing through her when the knob clicked shut. Vanessa waited until she heard the sound of Justin’s footsteps disappearing down the hall and then crawled into bed.
Just before she pulled up the covers, TJ sat up. “What was that?” she whispered, her voice groggy from sleep.
“I’ll tell you in the morning,” Vanessa said, but TJ rubbed her eyes. Her frizzy hair stood on end.
“No, I’m awake,” she said, and turned on her bedside light. “I heard a boy’s voice.”
“Justin,” Vanessa said, sitting up, and after glancing at the door to make sure no one was listening, she told TJ about the exchange.
“Justin thinks something happened to Elly too?” TJ said, now fully awake. “What does he know? Maybe he has information that we don’t?”
“Information from whom?” Vanessa said, shaking her head. “I think it was all hot air. He wouldn’t say anything specific, only that he had suspicions.”
“I knew it,” TJ said, pushing a wisp of hair from her face. “I mean, I don’t know
exactly what, but if Justin thinks something strange is going on, and so do you, then it’s possible, right?” She stood up and began pacing around the room. “Maybe I’ll write her another e-mail. Or Facebook message. No—a letter,” TJ muttered to herself. “I’ll send it to her parents’ house. That way if she doesn’t get it, at least they will.” And then, as if remembering that Vanessa was there, she turned. “Wait, where were you?”
“With Zep,” Vanessa said quietly, watching TJ’s face light up. And unable to resist the urge, she spilled everything. The voices, Zep, and the kiss. They talked for another hour about love and boys, about Zep and how he always seemed to show up at the strangest moments, about Justin sneaking around following them both, and Elly, her absence still as strong as the day she disappeared. Just like Vanessa’s sister.
Margaret? Vanessa thought, settling under the covers. What happened to you?
Chapter Seventeen
“What if he’s right?” Vanessa said over breakfast the following Saturday.
It had been over a week since Justin had shown up at her dorm room, yet his words still haunted her, despite the fact that she had been working on the final dance with Zep almost every evening.
They met after dinner and walked hand in hand through Lincoln Center Plaza to the basement practice room, laughing and dancing until their bodies were damp with sweat. And every evening he walked her back to her room and kissed her in the dim hallway, leaving her with a dizzying smile before slipping back into the shadows like an apparition. She still didn’t know what he did in his spare time, and he rarely picked up his cell phone or responded to her texts. No, he was clearly the one in control.
Maybe that was why Vanessa couldn’t get Justin’s warning out of her head. Like the final dance of the Firebird, Zep was elusive, undefined, even though he was her boyfriend.
“If a guy called you ‘his girl,’ does that mean that you’re his girlfriend?” Vanessa asked. The dining hall was bustling with the sound of dishes and silverware, students talking, eating, rushing away to class.
TJ’s eyes brightened. “Is this hypothetical guy Zep?” Her hair was frizzy and unkempt, in stark comparison to Blaine, who was impeccably dressed in a dark jeans and a tight polo, his hair slick with gel.
“Maybe,” Vanessa murmured, picking at her oatmeal.
“I don’t know,” Steffie said, playing with one of her earrings. “It’s kind of vague.”
“Typical New York guy,” TJ said, shaking her head. “They never want to commit.”
Vanessa looked at Blaine, but he only bit his lip. “If he meant you were his girlfriend, he could have just said that,” he said. “You know?”
Vanessa nodded, deflated. “What if all those girls didn’t just drop out because of stress?” she said. “I mean, it’s always girls that disappear. And most of the time it’s the lead ballerina. We’re supposed to be the best, the ones who can handle all the pressure. It really doesn’t make sense that so many of us can’t take it.”
“What exactly do you think is happening?” Steffie said. “That someone is killing or kidnapping all the lead ballerinas? Or forcing them to go drop out? Why would anyone do that?”
Vanessa pressed her spoon to her lips, thinking. “I don’t know.”
“I think Justin just likes you,” TJ said. “And he’s looking for an excuse to talk to you.”
“Which is probably why he hates Zep,” Blaine added with a grin.
Vanessa collapsed back in her chair, unsure of what she thought. She didn’t know why she was clinging to Justin’s words. Maybe it was because he seemed to know something about Margaret’s disappearance, and in order to believe him she had to at least consider his doubts about Zep. Or maybe she still didn’t understand why Zep had chosen her over Anna.
“Sometimes I wonder if Zep really likes me, or if I’m just some passing thing for him.”
TJ groaned in disbelief.
“He spends all his time with you, rehearsing for The Firebird. We never see you anymore,” Blaine said. “Honestly, I don’t know how you’re not on fire with happiness right now. If Zep just bumped into me in the hall, I would probably pee myself with excitement.”
Steffie rolled her eyes while the rest of them laughed. “Which is exactly why you’re going to be a virgin for the rest of your life.”
“Ha-ha,” he said sarcastically. “Seriously though”—Blaine lowered his voice—“if I had someone like Zep chasing me, I wouldn’t be taking him for granted. Do you know how hard it is to find someone who can reciprocate your feelings?”
The sincerity of his words startled her into silence.
“Unless, of course, you have the good looks that I have,” he said with a smirk.
Vanessa shook her head and laughed, then she caught a glimpse of Steffie’s watch. “It’s already nine?” she said. She slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her tray. “I have to go. I’m late for rehearsal.”
“But it’s Saturday,” Steffie said. “And we only just sat down.”
Vanessa gave her an apologetic look. Her friends didn’t understand how hard rehearsal was, or why each moment of extra practice with Zep was precious. “Save me a seat at dinner,” Vanessa said. “Okay?”
Steffie nodded, looking skeptical. “Don’t work too hard,” she said. “It’s supposed to be fun, remember?”
But her words were lost as Vanessa wove through the tables toward the door. Just before she stepped outside, she felt Justin’s eyes on her. His gaze was steady, penetrating, as if to say be careful.
“You have to focus,” Zep said later that night.
His voice reverberated through the basement rehearsal room. Night had fallen hours ago, and the bright overhead lights made everything seem all the more confused. Not that Vanessa had had a chance to go outside. She’d been alone in the studio with him since the afternoon rehearsal had ended.
“I can’t,” Vanessa murmured.
“You’re trying to remember your steps and my steps, and count your beat and my beat,” Zep said, leaning on the wall. “But it’s impossible to dance like that.” Behind him, the white figures stenciled into the ash stayed frozen in place. Suddenly she realized how absurd it was that she was standing here, in front of a boy everyone else in school would die to be alone with, and instead of listening to him, she was waiting for the paint on the wall to peel off and start dancing. She really was losing her mind.
“Vanessa?” Zep said. “Are you okay?”
“I—I’m sorry,” she said. “My mind is just …” Her eyes settled on Zep, on the stubble that dotted his cheeks, on the metallic, rolling color of his eyes, which seemed to brighten as he rested his gaze on Vanessa. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”
“Good,” Zep said. “Shall we try again?”
Vanessa nodded, and he took her hand and pulled her in front of him once more. Standing behind her, his chest pressed against her back, he put a hand on her waist. “Now do what I do,” he said, and he began to move with her in the irregular, unsteady beat of Josef’s dance.
“Let go of your thoughts. Let go of what you can see. Don’t pay attention to me. Just feel the rhythm, and let your body move the way it wants to.”
Vanessa let out a laugh. How could she not pay attention to him, when his muscular body was pressing against hers, with nothing between them but their leotards?
Zep frowned. “What’s funny?”
Vanessa shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “You just make it sound so easy.”
“It will be easy,” he said gently, lifting her chin. “When you decide it is.”
What did he mean? No matter how many times Vanessa practiced the dance, she couldn’t finish it perfectly. Either she made it halfway through before stepping out of rhythm, or, on the rare occasion when she made it almost to the end, the room began to shift and spin.
“I know how you feel,” Zep said. “When I first practiced this dance with Josef, I thought it was frustrating, irregular, and useless. But
after I mastered it, I understood.”
“Understood what?” Vanessa whispered.
“That it isn’t a dance. It’s a love affair, with rhythms and steps that are so complex, so painful, that it feels like you will never overcome them. But like love, once you master it, it will stay with you forever,” he said. “You will be the master of every dance.”
“The master?” Vanessa’s voice cracked.
“Don’t think about it. Feel it.” He ran his hand down her arm until it was extended outward into her starting pose. And then on his count, they began.
“Love.” He pressed his leg against hers until her toe slid across the floor. “You need me. You want me. You’ve always wanted me. But you can’t have me.”
Vanessa listened to his words, feeling them pulse through her veins. She arched her back in a painful plea.
“Fate is against us,” he whispered. “Still, you offer yourself to me. You seduce me.”
Her arms fluttered before her, and slowly, she arched her body into an arabesque, giving herself to him.
“I try to resist you, but I cannot.”
Vanessa felt herself grow weak as she leaned into him, letting his hands roam up her body as if they weren’t dancing at all, but merging into one. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of his sweat.
“But our love is violent. It cannot last. I cast you off.” Suddenly the rhythm changed, and Zep thrust her away. Spotting him, she spun across the floor.
“You don’t understand. You beg me. You ask me why I can’t love you.”
Vanessa threw herself down before him. For the first time, the dance seemed to make sense, and slowly, she lost herself to it. The steps were strange; there was no getting away from that. But with Zep guiding her, Vanessa began to feel it.
Her body jerked left, then right, in a tortured romance, the moves becoming natural, ingrained in her muscles until they were written to memory, and she didn’t notice when Zep fell away from her. Nor did she notice when she began to pick up the pace, dancing by herself.
As she moved across the wooden floor, she began to feel warm, then hot, sweat beading on her back until her leotard was matted to her skin. She realized it wasn’t just heat, it was desire. But desire for what? She spotted once, twice, the room spinning. The lights above were mesmerizing; the waxed floor unbelievably glossy, the mirror so sharp it seemed almost transparent. She kept dancing, her breaths long and deep, until her eyes rested on Zep.