Finding Your Feet

by Cass Lennox

  Tyler laughed and started listing them.

  She took another bite of her slider.

  The next hour sped by in a whirl of iced tea and conversation. Comics and the internet, the games they liked to play when they had spare time, TV shows and movies and hobbies. Their tastes overlapped a lot, which meant Evie could have talked with him for hours. But he had class, and she had to continue feeling out her new territory. Alas, responsibilities.

  She paid for lunch and they left, moving stiffly. Tyler stretched outside, grimacing. “I shouldn’t have sat around for so long.” He caught her eye and winked. “Not that it wasn’t worth it.”

  She smiled. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “I’d like to do this again.”

  “What, buy me lunch?”

  “Rant at you and then buy you lunch, yes.”

  He grinned. “That sounds good to me. Thanks for today.” He checked his phone. “I have to run. Have a good time at the Falls, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See you.”

  He hovered uncertainly, then waved at her and jogged away.

  Evie sighed, watching him go. Her stomach flipped over and chills raised goose bumps along her skin. Her mouth went dry, despite all the tea. The world seemed to shift and reassert itself into a brighter, more beautiful place. She felt so powerful and uncertain she couldn’t speak.

  Shit.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Evie.

  This wasn’t in the plan.

  Tyler spent the next class trying to sort out the mess of emotions in his head. Somewhere between being pissed off that their lunch had been interrupted, and being shaken by Sarah’s announcement of what seemed like a double date, this weird feeling of possessiveness had curled into his chest. He didn’t like that. Not when nothing had happened to warrant it, nothing except the small thing of Evie being fucking adorable and clueless about Sarah’s scheming.

  Because what else could that double date be? He couldn’t imagine anyone called Vaughn the Art Curator willingly driving two hours to the Falls and clicking photos with the other tourists just because it was a fun thing to do. Even if the guy was asexual (like Evie) and into art (also like Evie) that didn’t necessarily mean—

  And where is that thought going? Quit it, Davis. She lives on the other side of the goddamn Atlantic. Back to reality, dude.

  There was still a pang in his chest at the idea of Evie seeing the Falls with someone else like that. Someone who was more like her than he could ever be, in ways that mattered.

  His musing was interrupted by a text from Gigi in the middle of his class: Vaughn’s not even in the picture. Don’t worry about tomorrow. I got your back.

  Oh God. This he did not need. What the hell did that mean? Gigi being up to something was the last freaking thing he wanted.

  Tyler: I don’t know what you’re talking about. Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it.

  Gigi: :)

  After class, he went to the reception area and waited for the writer from the Dance Association. This was the first of the interviews he’d scheduled, and this half hour was all he had free today. The fact that he’d just spent a whole hour on lunch with Evie wasn’t lost on him, but he was electing to ignore that.

  Lucette would have been appalled. She’d always hated how he prioritized things.

  Whatever. It was his career. And wasn’t it telling that he didn’t need her around at all in order to do this? Hell yeah.

  The idea kept him smiling through introductions. Apparently that was a good thing, as the interview went more smoothly than he’d expected. The Dance Association writer mostly wanted to know about his dance background, but she asked a few questions about being transgender in the dance industry and whether he felt transitioning had affected his prospects as a dancer. He answered as honestly as he could.

  The best part of it was posing for pictures. He stood in the centre of the practice room, lit by small, powerful lights, and let himself go. He stretched and leaped and dipped and flexed, those good feelings from lunch and professional attention filling him up and bursting through his muscles. He even pulled out a few breakdance moves, making the photographer laugh.

  When he was catching his breath after a deep straddle, the interviewer threw a question he wasn’t expecting: “Weren’t you Lucette Poignier’s dance partner?”

  He choked on a breath and coughed. Oops. He bent over and took a deep breath. Rubbed at his thighs to hide his expression. “Ah. Yeah,” he managed, straightening. “For a while.”

  “I think I remember you and her performing at the dance festival last year. She defected to Vancouver, which I thought was a shame for Toronto’s scene. Are you still in touch?”

  “No. We fell out for, uh, artistic reasons.” If you could interpret Lucette being a volatile head case as artistic. And people remembered them? Still?

  “That’s a shame. You two danced well together.” She smiled. “Dancing with a complete beginner must present a whole other challenge.”

  He couldn’t even begin to compare Evie and Lucette in terms of dance ability. They were worlds apart. That wasn’t a bad thing though. He moved on the spot, trying to tease out his thoughts while keeping his focus on the photographer.

  “It does,” he said eventually. “But Evie’s been fun to teach. In a way, it’s ideal that she’s not a professional. She doesn’t take things so seriously. This competition isn’t about who’s the best, so I don’t find this a challenge. I find it’s closer to what I love about dance.”

  “Oh?”

  He scrabbled for the right words. “I . . . love dance. You know? It’s how I express myself best. It doesn’t matter if I can do a perfect high arabesque or just the merengue, it’s all the same to me. It’s been fun working with Evie because she’s like that too—she doesn’t care about technique, she’s just enjoying it. Yeah she’ll never be a professional, but it’s not about that for her. It’s about learning to express herself in a different way. For me, teaching her is getting back to basics and remembering why I do this.”

  Jeez, that was cheesy. He felt his face heat up.

  The reporter had a soft smile on her face. “That’s a wonderful answer. Thank you.”

  And just like that, they moved on. More importantly, Tyler felt okay. Six months ago, discussing Lucette like that would have left a bad taste in his mouth and a shaky feeling in his stomach. Having the competition and Evie to talk about helped immensely. Mentally rewinding the interview as he sunk into the warrior pose, he could honestly say the entire interview had been pretty great. Hell yeah, I can totally do this.

  Course it helped that there weren’t any more bombshell questions.

  True to form, Derek stuck his head around the door at the end of the interview. “Am I interrupting anything?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and smiling knowingly.

  “No, we’re done,” Tyler said, managing to resist an eye roll. Trust the owner to try to worm in on his action. He introduced Derek to the Dance Association people and together they walked them to the front door.

  Derek shook hands with the writer. “It’s been great meeting you,” he said. “Thank you for coming here.”

  “Thank you for letting us do this in your studio,” she said.

  “If there’s anything I can do to help you with your piece, just let me know.” He handed her his business card and a key ring. “We’re very supportive of our dancers, and I’m thrilled you’re interested in Tyler. He’s one of our best. Oh, and here, let me get the door for you.”

  Oh, real subtle, Derek.

  Tyler waited until they were gone before glaring at Derek. For someone who hadn’t lifted a finger to help organize the interview (apart from say yes to using QS space, but Tyler refused to acknowledge that), Derek looked very satisfied.

  “I think I made a good impression,” he said.

  “Mine was better. Keener.”

  Derek nudged him good-naturedly, and they turned back into the school. Derek cleared his throat. “He
y. I saw your and Evie’s interviews.”

  Tyler sighed. Of course he had. “And?”

  “I made a good choice, didn’t I? Evie is perfect for you.”

  Intelligent, funny, works hard, hot . . . Derek, you have no fucking idea. Also, you didn’t choose, she did. “I thought the dance machine thing was dumb, but she’s actually good at this.”

  Derek nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah, exactly. You know, it’s probably not great if I admit this, but I was really surprised when she said she was an engineer. She doesn’t look the type, you know? Don’t normally get engineers here as students.”

  “The engineer thing threw you?”

  Derek screwed up his face. “Well, yeah. That’s mathematical smarts, right? Normally mathematical people go for music as their creative outlet. It’s like a proven thing.”

  He didn’t have time for this. “Whatever. I have a class to get to.”

  “You and she are cute together too,” Derek said as Tyler walked away.

  “That’s irrelevant, Derek,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  An engineer and a dancer. Cute. Tyler wondered what adjective would describe an engineer and an art curator.

  Evie stared at the Falls in complete awe. Thousands of tonnes of blue-green water poured over sharp cliffs into a frothing pit, mist glittered in the sunlight, and she could see the sun glint off camera lenses on the American side of the Falls. The sky was summery blue and yawned above her, emphasizing just how big this part of the world was. She and Vaughn drank in the sight, relishing the relative quiet left behind by Sarah and Bailey ducking away to buy drinks. Sarah had kept the conversation up effortlessly the entire drive to the Falls—apparently very glad to have more time off work—and to Evie’s relief, Vaughn had been more friendly than opinionated.

  “This is stunning,” she said.

  “Isn’t it?” Vaughn agreed. He rested his elbows on the guardrail and smiled at the sight of the Falls. “I’ve been here more times than I care to admit, and I’ve always been blown away.”

  As it turned out, Vaughn was fairly well versed in Ontario’s landmarks. Evie mostly remembered his art knowledge from the meet-up, but he was something of a traveler in his own country. On the car ride down to Niagara, he’d talked about the visits he’d made around the province, including the vineyards near Niagara, Lake Superior, Hudson Bay in the north, Ottawa, and Algonquin Provincial Park. She’d decided her impression of him from the meal had to have been coloured by the coming out altercation; he was actually quite fun.

  He also cleaned up better than she remembered: that mop of dark hair was combed back today, and he wore a linen blazer, crisp white shirt, maroon jeans with the cuffs turned up, and deck shoes. Evie was fairly sure his sunglasses cost more than her master’s tuition. Vaughn wasn’t the kind of person she’d expect at a meet-up for aces from Tumblr—he screamed gay rather than asexual or net denizen—but that was the beauty of the intersection between the internet and real life. It meant she could meet a man who would fit in nicely in the posh areas of London or York but who also enjoyed video games and discussing the intricacies of queer theory.

  He was also an instant fan of Godzilla. He insisted on taking multiple photos with the toy, then holding him as they strolled along the viewing rail.

  “There’s probably more pictures of the damn monster than of me,” Evie muttered, looking over the pictures on her camera.

  “I think it’s novel,” he said. “I’d never consider taking a mascot on my trips.” Vaughn stared at Godzilla for a moment. “I have to say, I’m very glad I decided to tag along. I don’t normally go to meet-ups, but the other night’s was fun. Today isn’t how I’d usually spend my time at Niagara.” He glanced at Evie. “It’s been such a pleasure to visit somewhere I love with other asexual people.”

  She was touched. “Thanks, Vaughn. It’s been lovely meeting you.”

  “When are you going back to England?”

  “Next week, but I’m back in the autumn to study. We should meet up.”

  Vaughn bounced Godzilla in glee. “Absolutely. We can drink free sparkling wine and pretend to be snobs at art exhibitions.”

  “Only pretend?”

  “Ha! Art snobbery is always pretence.”

  “As long as there’s wine involved, I’m there.”

  He cast her an approving glance. “I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Evie.”

  They’d strolled past Second Cup now and turned to go back. Sarah and Bailey were taking forever.

  “Sarah mentioned you’re doing a dance competition while you’re here?” Vaughn said.

  Evie nodded. “It’s something I accidentally joined.”

  His eyebrows raised. “How do you accidentally join a dance competition?”

  She described the audition, how Sarah knew Tyler, and the practice sessions they’d been having.

  Vaughn nodded throughout. “Sounds brutal. Three or four hours a day? Your legs must be pure muscle.”

  They were more solid, but hardly pure muscle. Mostly just sore. Evie looked down at them. A deep bruise stood out on one shin—the souvenir from Tyler’s hungover mishap. “They’re getting there. Honestly, they’ve never looked this good.”

  “What’s the routine like? Is it difficult?”

  “Yes. It’s complicated but fun.” She snapped yet another picture of the Falls. “I mean, it is for me. For Tyler it’s probably fairly tame.”

  “Tyler is the gentleman teaching you the routine?”

  “Yes.” And damn her, she blushed again. “It’s, uh, it’s just a stunt that’s happening for Pride, but it’s been awesome. Meeting new people. New experiences. All that stuff.”

  “Eminently admirable. New experiences keep life worth living.” He smiled slyly at her. “Sooo, what’s this Tyler like—”

  “Hey!” Sarah called from behind them. They turned and were handed iced coffees. “Sorry,” Sarah said, “there was a massive line.”

  “Huge,” Bailey emphasized, spreading their hands wide.

  It hadn’t seemed that big to Evie when they’d walked past the coffee shop. Given how Sarah was looking at her and Vaughn, she decided not to argue about it.

  They took more photos, then lined up for the boat tour. When she stood on the deck and approached the Falls, Evie closed her eyes and felt the cool mist sprinkle on her face. It seeped slowly into her skin and hair, soaking her with gentle brushes, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by fog. The noise of the Falls drowned out the boat’s motor and the chatter of her friends.

  Peering into the mist, Evie wondered what a certain dancer would have to say about the natural beauty of his country, and she wished he was there with them. If he could see this mist, the raw power of the water, she thought he might be awed into silence the way she was. Unlike Sarah and Bailey, resolutely chatting despite the noise of the falls, Tyler would probably just lean and watch with her. No words necessary.

  A realization that she was being watched startled her out of her reverie, and she looked over to see Vaughn holding her camera. She smiled at him, saw his finger press down again, then she turned back to the mist and the Falls and tried to imprint the experience in her memory.

  After the tour, they had lunch and discussed plans for the evening. Vaughn was going to a slam poetry session, Sarah was climbing with friends at an indoor wall, and Bailey was working on an arts project with their company. While Vaughn and Bailey discussed the logistics of dinner, Sarah leaned towards Evie.

  “I cannot believe he’s ace,” she said, her voice low.

  “Sarah, he’s literally opposite us.”

  “He’s nice, eh?” Sarah beamed.

  Evie blinked, then frowned. That phrase usually only meant one thing. “Gaybeard, is this a setup?”

  “No!” Sarah said quickly. “I invited loads of people from last night. Honest. Vaughn was the only one to take me up on it. And you two seemed to hit it off, so I thought why not? You’re having fu
n, right?”

  Why not indeed. The thing was, it now felt like a setup to Evie. At least they weren’t straight, otherwise this would supposedly be a done deal if all those rom-coms were to be believed. “Of course. This place is amazing. I suppose we’ve ‘hit it off.’ Vaughn is lovely. But . . .” She glanced at Vaughn. “I feel this is a friends thing.”

  Sarah seemed to struggle not to smile at this. “Really?”

  Evie eyed her suspiciously. If Sarah had really been setting them up, why was she so pleased now? “Yes,” Evie said slowly.

  Sarah stirred her drink. “Is there anyone else you wish was here instead?”

  Evie blushed despite herself. “No,” she lied. “This is fab.”

  Sarah’s grin threatened to split her face as she took Evie’s hand. “You don’t say, Evazilla.”

  After lunch, they strolled back along the viewing platform and through Niagara to their car. Evie found herself next to Vaughn while Sarah pointed something out to Bailey ahead of them. He asked her when the dance performance was.

  “Saturday. It’s taking place on a stage somewhere on Church Street.” She side-eyed him. “I’m not telling you when. It won’t be anything special.”

  “Perhaps, but perhaps not. But it will be fun. Plus you’re representing us.” He pulled out his phone and tapped at it. “Ah. The performances start at 2 p.m. Consider me already there.”

  Saturday was four days away. Four days didn’t seem like enough. She wondered if Tyler was really as confident as he’d seemed the other day. She wondered how Gigi and Mark were getting on. Hopefully Mark was struggling too. At least he didn’t have to deal with unexpected feelings as well as lack of experience. How the hell she was ever going to do this, now that her thoughts were filled with Tyler, was kind of beyond her.

  She was abruptly hit by a small wave of homesickness. Just enough to make her miss the familiarity and routine of her life back home. Something about the heat of this place, the unfamiliar wide-open landscape, the different accents and people, and the worry of a public performance, all combined to briefly be overwhelming. She took a deep breath, letting it pass.