by Anayo Ordu
Instead of risking looking too casual in denim shorts, I chose a light chiffon dress in yellow. It wouldn’t blow up in the wind, because it hit right below my knee. I put on some sandals, insecure about the blisters I had from being in pointe shoes five days a week.
“I love that yellow on you,” he said as we walked out of the door.
“Thanks.” I was already feeling so shy and nervous. I didn’t know what else to stay.
We walked in silence until we made it out the front door of the building.
“What are the plans for today?”
“You’re always so worried. Just promise me you’ll enjoy the day, okay?”
I nodded my head at him.
He raised his hand to get us a cab, which he asked to drop us off at East 34th Street in Manhattan. I was glad I wouldn’t have to get on the subway in a dress, after what happened the night of the concert.
“How were Jay and B?” he asked.
“I didn’t expect them to be as good as they were,” I admitted. “Her team really knows how to put on a show. Those dancers were amazing.”
“See, you’ve got a whole new career goal,” he joked.
“I wish. You saw me at the class at BDC.”
“You’re dancing is nearly perfect, Jane. You just have to work on your stage presence a little. I know there’s an alter ego inside that’s waiting to come out.”
Maybe that’s why I seemed so shy in anything that wasn’t ballet. Beyoncé talked about becoming “Sasha Fierce” whenever she performed. I guess I needed to give mine a name so I could pull her out whenever I needed to.
As we made our way into the city, the cab driver talked to us through the rearview mirror.
“Are you lovebirds going on a date today?” he asked.
“We’re just friends,” I quickly corrected him. “We dance together at The Joplin School in Lower Manhattan.”
“I see. Well, you two would make a lovely couple if you ever decided to be more than just friends.”
Armani and I looked at each other. Oddly enough, I didn’t cut my eyes away this time.
“Remember one thing. Once you cross that line, it’s hard to get your friend back if something goes wrong.”
After a few more moments talking about what we’d done in New York over the summer, the driver let us out at East 34th street.
Armani took my hand as I got out of the car. I pulled it away as soon as he shut the door behind us. I took a piece of gum out of my wristlet to make it a little less awkward.
“What are we all the way over here for” I asked him.
“It’s kind of weird, but we came all the way north, just to travel south again.”
I must have had a look of confusion on my face.
“We’re going to take a ferry ride to Dumbo in Brooklyn.”
I had seen the ferries and boats, but didn’t know they were used as public transit.
“I thought people only got on those things if they rented them out or were attending a private party?” I asked.
“You’ve got a lot to learn if you plan to be a city girl,” he said as he put his hands on my shoulders.
Armani put his debit card into a machine and got us two tickets. We waited just a few minutes until the ferry arrived.
Once it was stable and open to new passengers, we walked up the stairs onto the huge boat. Armani took my hand again, making sure I didn’t stumble or fall. We took a seat toward the back, looking at the little waves the engine created.
We had to make a few stops before we got to Dumbo. I had heard a little bit about Greenpoint and Williamsburg. Kiara told us they were full of young professionals and “hipsters”. From what I understood, those were the millennial version of hippies.
“The East River is so gorgeous,” I told him as we watched the ferry glide over the water.
“It really is. It’s not the beach in LA, though. Don’t ask me to get a surfboard and hop in,” he said as he laughed.
“When did you start surfing?”
“The first time I got on a board, I was still in elementary school. My older brother was always at the beach with his friends, and ended up taking me with him.”
“I don’t have any siblings,” I told him.
“That makes sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s usually easy to tell when someone is an only child, a middle child, or the baby. You seem very independent, so it makes sense that it’s just you and your parents.”
The ferry finally made it to the Dumbo stop. Once we got off, I looked at Armani, waiting for instructions for the next activity.
“Do you like pizza?”
“Of course, who doesn’t?”
“Just making sure. You’re a very unique girl,” he said.
“I probably have more in common with the other girls at Joplin than you think,” I said, getting defensive.
“Being different is not a bad thing, Jane. It just makes you who you are.”
“I know that. I just wish the majority of other people did, too.”
“Have you been to Grimaldi’s Pizza? It’s one of Michelle Obama’s favorites whenever she’s in the city.”
“I think Kiara mentioned it once. She’s an expert, so I’ll trust her opinion.”
We walked until we got to the restaurant. Armani told me they specialized in brick-oven pizza, made fresh to order.
We had to wait outside in a line that curved the building for about twenty minutes before we got inside.
“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know they got this busy,” he said.
“I don’t mind. You’re a good person to wait with,” I said as I smiled at him.
The waiter seated us at a table across from each other.
“Welcome to Grimaldi’s,” she said as she placed the menus down.
“Is this your first time here?”
“I’ve been before, but she’s new to the city.”
“Got it. I hope you’ve been showing her a good time.”
“I’m trying my best, as long as she lets me,” he said.
She wrote down our order for a classic pepperoni pizza. I didn’t want Armani to think I was weird for asking if they had a vegan option available.
“Where are you from again, Jane?”
“I’ve lived in Houston forever. I think I’m ready to get out.”
“Just like the Queen Bey,” he joked. “You know this is my third year at Joplin. I’ve never asked to take any of the girls out on a date.”
That was a shock to me. Armani seemed to be the male favorite of the intensive. There were always girls around him during breaks and in the dorms.
“I’ll let you in on a secret. This is my first time ever going on a date.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said.
“Why not?”
“You have a lot going for you. I guess it makes sense that you don’t have time to waste on guys who aren’t serious about you.”
I was glad he was picking up on these things without making me sound snobby.
“It’s a lot to handle. I have all honors classes at school and am always at the studio. I don’t mind it though. It’s what I love, so I make it happen.”
We talked some more about our lives growing up in Los Angeles and Houston. Armani’s dance stories were so much different than mine. He had been in a couple of commercials when he was a kid, and even performed at the Kids Choice Awards one year.
Our conversation flowed so well. I began to feel more comfortable, and my nerves had completely disappeared.
When the pizza arrived, Armani grabbed one of the plates and cut me two slices. I was expecting to have to do it myself.
We raised our soda glasses and toasted to a successful performance as Cinderella and Prince Charming.
When our waitress came back, she asked if the charges would be on one check, or split in two. Before I could ask her to split it, Armani pulled out his debit card.
***
After leaving Grimaldi’s, Armani
asked if I was up for one more adventure before we made it back to the dorms. I hoped he hadn’t planned anything too spontaneous, but agreed to join him.
“I’m guessing you’ve never walked the Brooklyn Bridge?”
“I haven’t. We went to the Highline, but I know the bridge is a classic New York to-do.”
Armani held my hand again as we walked up the entryway stairs onto the bridge. This time, neither of us let go.
The bridge was full of tourists, residents, and salesmen trying to make some cash. An older gentleman had fresh flowers. Armani handed him cash and placed the tulips in my free hand.
“The bicycles they have for rent are pretty fun. Next time, I’ll remind you to be a little more casual and we can see who’s faster,” he joked.
There were so many places to get an awesome view of the city skyline. The Brooklyn Bridge gave a glimpse into everything that made New York as beautiful as it was.
“Jane, you do know that I like you, right?”
My stomach sank.
“I like you, too. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be my first dance partner.”
“I like you more than just a dance partner. I want us to stay in touch when we go back home to finish high school.”
I assured him that was fine. We’d be able to keep in touch with everyone from Joplin through our group chat.
“I don’t think you’re hearing me correctly. I want us to stay in touch, so we can pick this up when we’re both back here for school.”
I knew I wasn’t dating back home, but a year was a long time to wait for somebody.
“That’s a whole year before we see each other again. What are you going to do in the meantime?” I asked him.
“Talk to you. Text you. Video chat you.” He made it clear he had no other intentions but to keep developing his friendship with me.
“What if you find someone else?” I asked him.
“Don’t worry about that. Just think positive thoughts and take the chance with me.”
He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed me. The sun set behind us, ending the best day of the summer so far.
CHAPTER TEN
It was the last weekend of the intensive. We started to pack our rooms, in preparation for our families arriving and our program ending. We had Friday off to get our spaces together, and spend time with our families who were coming to see the show.
“I can’t believe it’s already over,” Bianca said. “It goes by so fast every year.”
“I know. Can you imagine how fast time will fly when we actually live here?”
“I’m not sure Jane,” she said quietly.
I hoped she wasn’t backing out on me.
“Los Angeles might be a better fit for me. You know I like commercial dance more than ballet.”
My eyes began to water. This might be the last time I would see Bianca. We hugged each other, tears dripping down our faces.
“I don’t want to be here without you,” I sobbed as I took short and heavy breaths.
“I don’t want to lose you either,” she said. “Who am I supposed to live with? Those LA girls are the worst!” We both laughed at the thought of everyone having a fake tan and accent to go along with it.
My cell phone began to ring. My mom told me she and my dad were downstairs in the lobby. I would spend the night with them until call time for Saturday’s show.
I grabbed my overnight bag and went down the elevator with Bianca.
Mom and dad hugged me at the same time when they saw me. My mom looked like she almost wanted to cry.
“Jane, we missed you so much sweetie.”
I felt bad at the thought of the day when they finally became empty nesters.
“This is my roommate and best friend from this summer, Bianca. She’s from Miami.”
She shook both of their hands, then wiped some more tears from her eyes.
“We were just getting emotional over the fact that it’s almost time to leave,” she admitted. “It’s been a crazy summer.”
“Thank you for being a friend to Jane and making sure she didn’t get lost on these subways,” my dad said. “We thought about taking one over from the hotel, but went for a taxi instead.
“Are you ready?” my mom asked me.
I turned around to look back at the dorm where I had learned and grown so much in just a few weeks. I followed my parents out the revolving lobby door.
***
Unlike me, my dad always went with the flow, and never planned ahead for anything. After doing some research, my mom told me the one thing she had to do in the city was visit the 9/11 Memorial at Ground Zero.
I was just a baby when it happened, so I only knew of September 11th through history class projects. My mom once told me it was the only time in her life she had ever seen my dad not speak for an entire day. It hit him pretty hard, as he served in the army when he was younger.
When we first arrived, I was afraid the scene would trigger too many bad memories, and put a cloud over the entire day. In a strange way, Ground Zero was the most beautiful landmark I had seen the entire summer.
The memorial was in the shape of a large open square. The names of the 3,000 individuals who lost their lives as a result of the attacks were etched inside the stone. It was comforting to know that in spite of such a terrible tragedy, their names would live on forever for generations beyond them to see.
The inside of the square was a large fountain, where water cascaded into the ground. Oddly enough, the soothing sound of the liquid moving in and out of the stone created a sense of peace and serenity you wouldn’t expect. Aside from being the most emotional, this had to be the most relaxing space I had been in over the summer. In spite of the chaos of the city, this was a place where everyone could slow down and take a moment to appreciate the gift of life itself.
We made our way up the Freedom Tower. The view of the entire city made me remember that there was a world of possibilities to be taken advantage of.
***
We passed by a Thai restaurant nearby, and decided to have dinner there. My parents were so in awe by the memorial, that much conversation didn’t happen.
“Tell us everything that’s happened this summer,” my mom said. “You know you missed a few of those video chats you promised.”
“I know. It’s just so easy to get caught up here. Everything moves so fast. There’s always somewhere to go, something to do.”
“So, what all have you been doing?” Dad asked.
“Let me think back. Our first group trip was down to Coney Island. We ate at Nathan’s Famous, rode The Cyclone, walked the boardwalk, and took pictures on the beach. We shopped at the four-story Forever 21. There’s an elevated Pier that’s basically a little city beach. You can see the entire East River and the Brooklyn Bridge from it. Armani and I walked The Bridge, after we ate Grimaldi’s –“
“Who is Armani?” my dad cut me off.
I hadn’t mentioned Armani in any of my talks with my parents. I knew they would make a big deal over the fact that we were dance partners. It would be an even bigger mess if I had admitted we went on a date.
“He’s my partner for the final performance,” I said, trying to be as non-descriptive as possible.
“Have you all been spending time together outside of rehearsal?” Mom asked.
“Just once. He is going back to finish high school in Los Angeles, so tomorrow will be our last day together.”
I wanted to crush the idea in my head as soon as possible. There was no way Armani would be talking to me daily when he was 1,500 miles away.
“Make sure you introduce us to him after the show tomorrow,” Dad said.
I was already dreading the moment in my head.
***
I woke up in my parent’s hotel room at 7AM the day of the performance. The nightmare from the sleep beforehand had me falling over in the middle of my set of 20 fouettes. I was relieved it happened in my head, and not in real life.
My par
ents and I went to brunch near their hotel, and went on a quick walking tour of Lower Manhattan. I told my dad he would have to be Mom’s shopping buddy. I needed to get to the venue to prepare for the show.
***
Call time was at 3PM. Of course, I walked into the theater at 2 o’ clock. The first sight in the lobby was a fancy sign: The Joplin Ballet School’s 25th Summer Intensive Presents: Cinderella. Starring: Jane Redmond and Armani Villanueva
I pulled out my phone to snap a picture and text it to my mom. I almost started to cry.
I walked into the dressing room designated for the teen girls in the intensive. A sign was reserving my seat, the first chair in the dressing room.
I sat down and looked at myself in the bulb-lit mirrors. I couldn’t believe I had made it this far. In just a few hours, I would be dancing my first leading role with someone who slowly became one of my best friends.
Miss Blair had a ton of connections in the dance world. She was able to get professional hair and makeup artists who worked on Broadway shows to prep us for our final performance.
Hair was quick and to the point. It amazed me how a professional’s 10-minute ballet bun looked a thousand times better than the one I threw together each morning. She slicked my hair back, adding in small braids on each side. She adorned it with some jewels that would make it sparkle from the audience.
I was never an expert at makeup, and did the bare minimum for recitals. Foundation, mascara, and a bold lip color were in my usual routine. The artist Miss Blair chose transformed my face. Tessa walked in and barely recognized me.
“Jane, you look perfect,” she said in awe. She pulled out her camera to start taking photos.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“All stars need a little paparazzi,” she said as she continued to snap.
Once my hair and makeup was complete, it was time to slip into my costume for the evening. Joplin’s Cinderella would wear two costumes. The first was a plain and ragged dress for when she cleaned the house. The second was a gorgeous purple gown for the ball, with a fancy skirt made of tulle.
Once we were all dressed, we gathered in the main area backstage for one last pep talk from Miss Blair.
“I’m so proud of how much you all have grown this summer,” she said. “Several of you couldn’t even imagine the great things that would happen to you over the course of the program. Enjoy your night tonight. You’ve earned it.”