Finding Your Feet

by Cass Lennox

  Oh leave it. “Time, Sarah,” Evie said.

  “Fuck fuck fuck. I’m so fucking late.” Sarah’s panic reasserted itself, and she raced out of the kitchen, toast in hand.

  “She like this every morning?” Tyler asked.

  “Usually.” Bailey sipped their coffee. “Only several hours earlier.”

  “What time is it?” Evie asked.

  “Nine thirty.”

  Tyler put down his mug. “Wait, what? I have a class in thirty minutes.” He strode out, and Evie smiled into her tea. Bailey met her glance and winked.

  “Make sure you eat something,” she called after him.

  Tyler walked back into the kitchen five minutes later, dressed in his gear from yesterday. He kissed Evie quickly, then grabbed a last piece of toast. “I gotta run. I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye.”

  Tyler strode out, waving at Bailey. “Thanks for having me, Bay.”

  “No probs. Bye!” Bailey called after him.

  The front door closed shut.

  “I see the appeal,” Bailey remarked, indicating their torso. Evie blushed.

  Sarah ran back in, shoes on and hair brushed. Crumbs coated her shirt. She took another sip of coffee, kissed Bailey’s cheek, and ran out.

  “So what are your plans this morning?” Evie asked Bailey.

  They shrugged. “I’m easy. Anywhere you wanna go in particular?”

  “AGO, then Timmies?” she suggested.

  They nodded.

  Good. A nice way to kill time until Evie could see Tyler again.

  Tyler reached the school with seconds to spare. He ran into the practice room and found Gigi there, stretching languidly against the barre. The guy looked satisfied and happy. Ah, right, he’d gone home with Brock. Tyler flashed back to his own intense make-out session and immediately pushed the memory away. The last thing he needed was to be turned on for hours. He dumped his stuff and joined Gigi.

  “Someone’s got a sex glow going,” he remarked.

  Gigi leered at him in the mirror. “And you look like you’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday.”

  Tyler bent over and stretched his hamstrings and calves. His spine cracked pleasantly as he let his head hang down. “So are you.”

  “Hell yeah.” Gigi wiggled his ass happily. “Was it good for you?”

  “I crashed at Sarah’s.” He arched out of the stretch and felt his back pull unusually. He carefully stretched one side, then the other, feeling out the discrepancy, then tried a few exploratory moves. Nope. Something was off. Too tight? Sleep-deprived? More like, that’s what sleeping on a sofa bed does. Shit. Extra coffee and Gatorade was on the agenda for today.

  “So you didn’t hook up with her?” Gigi sounded like he didn’t believe what he was saying.

  “We made out.” Tyler grabbed the barre and leaned back, stretching his chest and abs.

  Gigi came into view, upside down. “Ty, help me out. Did you or did you not get together with our English flower?”

  Tyler blinked. “My English flower. And yeah I did. But it’s nothing serious.” A little bell rang in his mind at those words, because that morning’s confessions were the definition of serious. He shoved the thought away. “How was your night?”

  Gigi preened. “Well. Since you asked, Brock and I had a wonderful time last night.”

  Oh God. This was a mistake. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

  “We went back to my place—”

  “Gigi—”

  “—and made out—”

  “I really, really don’t—”

  “—and practically tore our clothes off—”

  “Oh God—”

  “—and you would not believe the things he can do with his—”

  “Ahem!”

  Tyler and Gigi snapped face forward. Their friend and resident fouetté master Eddie stood at the head of the class. “Keep it down, boys. Literally.”

  They murmured apologies and continued with their stretching. Tyler frowned as he moved around. Today wasn’t going to be a great day for dancing, he could tell.

  “Basically, he’s hung like a fucking horse,” Gigi whispered dreamily.

  Tyler closed his eyes and counted to ten.

  “Now that I’ve shared with the class, you wanna tell me why, after all my efforts, you didn’t do anything more than kiss the girl?”

  “We’re not serious, so sex doesn’t feel right.”

  Gigi’s eyes nearly popped out of his face. “Not serious? Sex doesn’t feel right? What’s wrong with you?” he hissed, barely keeping it down.

  Tyler glared at him. “Come on! We’re not all wired like you. Not every relationship works the way yours has.”

  “I’m not in a relationship, I’m in a hookup.”

  Tyler rolled his eyes. Brock had his work cut out for him.

  Gigi continued, “She said in her interview that she’s had sex. So she does do it. I thought you were in there.” He frowned. “Waaait, you’re not serious? How are you not serious? Have you seen yourselves?”

  “This is a competition. She’s leaving soon.” Not that he wanted her to leave. Not now. He really, really didn’t. Shit. Wasn’t that a slightly terrifying realization? When had that happened?

  Sure, “no harm in asking the girl out.” Shana, you liar.

  “So? She’s coming back. You can’t handle three months of long distance? It’s not like Evie will find someone else she wants to fuck before she comes back.” Gigi shook his head, earrings flashing. “I’m not the one who was in a relationship for over a year, and if even I can see you two work, then sweetie, your biggest problem is that nasty case of denial on your face.”

  Tyler was having problems processing what Gigi was saying. Evie’s coming back? “Three months? She’s coming back?”

  Gigi quirked an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? She’s doing some super fancy degree in the fall? That’s kind of the big main reason she’s here? She’s scoping the territory.”

  This was the first Tyler had heard of it. His confusion must’ve been obvious, because Gigi’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t know?”

  “No.”

  “How the fuck did you not know? She said it in her interview! Like multiple times! Weren’t you there?”

  “I was distracted.”

  Gigi shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  Yeah, okay. He got it: he didn’t pay attention. So . . . she was coming back?

  Tyler kicked out a leg behind him and heard his hips click. He remembered conversations over the past week that now made much more sense. Like his hips, things fell into place.

  “Oh my God,” he said. She was sticking around. Evie was going to be here. In Toronto. Somewhat permanently. They didn’t have to end this fledgling thing between them. Delight sang through him . . . Rapidly followed by a hit of nausea. His stomach writhed as though snakes had taken up residence. His hand grew clammy against the barre. His vision narrowed to the floor at his foot. No. No no no no no. This was bad. So bad. He couldn’t do this.

  But why is it bad? asked a small, deeply hidden part of himself. He ignored that voice because it clearly knew nothing.

  Oblivious to his panic, Gigi continued to stretch languidly. “I mean, not that it really matters anyway. She comes back, you and her can keep the magic going, and—” He caught sight of Tyler’s face and came out of the stretch. “Ty? You okay? You look like shit.”

  Tyler’s head reeled. He straightened abruptly and blinked until his vision returned to normal. Get a grip, Ty. Focus. “I can’t,” fell out of his mouth.

  Gigi blinked. “You can’t what?”

  Tyler sagged against the barre. “I finally did an interview for a magazine. And I have more lined up. And this competition is another opportunity to push myself forward. I’m going to be an uncle. Lots of good things are happening.” He rubbed his hands against his clothes, trying to dry them enough to grip the barre. “I can’t handle a relationship right now.”

  Gigi stared a
t him like he’d said he was giving up dance. “What?”

  “This thing with Evie, it’s a casual thing. One week. That’s it. She goes, it’s over, we both move on.” The nausea faded, leaving behind nervous energy instead. That was better. He could dance off nervous.

  Gigi snorted. “Are you listening to yourself?” He crossed his arms and regarded Tyler thoughtfully. “I don’t know what shit is going through your head right now, but ignore it and listen to your wise Aunt Gigi: Evie is a good thing. This ‘casual’ bull you just said to me? That isn’t what I’ve been seeing this past week.”

  “Tough. That’s all it is.”

  “And just what in the hell is wrong with lots of good things happening at once? You don’t think you deserve good shit after last year?”

  Tyler couldn’t answer that, not without the nausea returning. When Gigi realized he wasn’t going to get an answer, he scoffed and turned away. “Fine. Do the angsty silent act. See if Aunt Gigi cares.”

  The class was starting properly now. Tyler turned his back on him and settled into stance. He could still see Gigi in the mirror on the wall opposite him, and his friend looked worried.

  After the class, Gigi was thankfully distracted by Brock. Tyler had the time and space to snarf down food while turning over the revelation that Evie was going to be a permanent fixture in Toronto. He knew he should be ecstatic she was staying, and on one level he was. He really, truly was. But the potential reality of another relationship, even with Evie, poured ice in his veins whenever he thought about it. Relationships were not okay. This wasn’t okay. It was far too soon. Over a year was too soon, right? Right. Oh sure, she wouldn’t be like Lucette, wouldn’t demand the same things from him, but girlfriends always had expectations. Tyler knew that intimately.

  And the timing was terrible. He felt like he was treading water career-wise; his head was a mess. A girlfriend on top of that? Too much. Way too much. He couldn’t deal with that. He had to break whatever this was off.

  Even though she makes you happy? that annoyingly persistent little voice said to him. Even though she’s actually a nice person and everyone you know likes her? Even though she doesn’t give a crap about you being transgender? Even though this week with her has been the best you can remember and being with her feels nothing like being with Lucette? Still sure you can’t handle a good thing?

  What did any of that matter? She might be nice now, but so was Lucette at first. They’d had fun together like this. Just like this. And what if Evie, brilliant wicked Evie, turned sour like Luce did? Disappointed and angry and entrenched in hurting him? No way. He couldn’t run that risk. The sheer idea of it was terrifying.

  Numb, he went straight to the practice room after finishing his food.

  She wasn’t there. He was a little disappointed, and then felt stupid. Why was he disappointed when he was early and he’d seen her all of four hours ago, and he’d decided to end this not-so-casual thing between them?

  He started stretching and moving around, shaking off the ballet of the earlier class. Memories from the morning flickered in front of him whenever he closed his eyes, so he tried not to do that too often. It was hard though, because he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having someone in bed with him. Having Evie there was beyond words—the way she’d burrowed next to him, like she really needed him; the way she’d gently touched him; the look in her eyes when she had flirted with him: that all had felt amazing. He’d forgotten just how sweet it was to lie with another person. Not to mention the feel of her body under his, the soft warmth of her mouth, the small noises she made when he touched somewhere sensitive, the smell of her hair and skin, and that hint at a little kink . . . Goddamn.

  Nope, thinking about this morning definitely wasn’t helping him.

  Okay, Tyler, yes, it felt good, but you know physical means nothing.

  The door opened and he looked up eagerly—to see Mark stop short in the doorway.

  “Oh, hey, Tyler.” Mark blinked. “Guess I got the wrong room, huh?”

  “Guess you did.”

  “Uh-oh. Gigi is going to whup my ass.” He smiled. “You good, man?”

  Mark didn’t seem too upset at the idea of Gigi going postal. “Mostly. You?”

  “Apart from an oncoming ass-kicking, yeah man, I’m fucking sweet. Check this out.” He pulled out a massive mess of keys and key rings from his pocket. “Jean gave me this righteous key ring.” Tyler could see the distinctive rainbow letters peeking out of the clutter.

  “Oh, wow.” Was Mark seriously lingering here to talk about the freaking merchandise?

  Mark nodded. “Right, right? I got one for my little brother too. Have I told you about him? He’s—” Startled by something, he looked down the corridor. “Yo, Evie!” he called, and Tyler’s heart jumped. Mark turned back to him. “Heard you two were getting close, bro,” he whispered approvingly. “I owe you a high five.”

  “Bye, Mark.” Tyler couldn’t help admiring Mark’s sheer enthusiasm and cheerfulness. He was dancing with Gigi for fuck’s sake—and enjoying it, apparently. It was like the Odd Couple with tap shoes. How did he do it?

  Because Mark is good people. So’s Evie. If Mark the Hetero Jock can be chill about dancing with a gay man, surely cisgender Evie will be cool with— He squashed that stupid persistent little voice because he’d made his decision already, damn it.

  He got to his feet just as Evie stepped in. She closed the door with one hand, tossed her bag to the floor with the other, and without breaking stride, walked up to him and kissed him hard. Tyler’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he gathered her closer to him, almost lifting her off her feet. She felt indescribably good.

  She ended the kiss and smiled at him. “I missed you.”

  Such a dork. “Me too.” They could both be dorks. He kissed her again. Shit. Shit. She was so happy she practically glowed.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this since you left.” Her fingers traced his jaw. “I can’t believe it’s the last practice session.”

  “Me either.” His heart sank. He was going to miss doing this with her. “This has been a lot of fun.”

  She nodded, her face sombre.

  The last session. Not even the cowering, anxious snake pit in his stomach wanted to ruin that. At least let him—let them—have this last session together. He put his hand over hers and brought it to his lips, stomach roiling. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s make it count.”

  Evie smiled sadly and spun away from him. He set up the MP3 player and hit Play.

  It passed all too quickly. They blasted through the routine, executing it almost exactly the way he’d pictured it that first night in his apartment. Only, Evie was flesh and blood and making faces at him, rather than an imaginary partner who crackled in his arms, then evaporated when she was done. He really pushed her, realizing they finally had a slick performance. They actually had a chance of winning the stupid dance-off (if Cherry didn’t school all of their asses). And he was thinking of wrecking this dynamic the day before the performance? The professional part of Tyler was screaming at him to reconsider.

  So was the personal side, the part that wasn’t quaking at the prospect of being emotionally tied down again.

  Evie called a break, flopping down without waiting for him to agree. He crouched next to her, smiling at her sweaty red face. He’d miss this too, the way she sprawled out unapologetically when she was tired.

  “You all right?” she asked him.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You look a little sad.”

  He reached and mussed her hair, earning a screech and a successfully distracted Evie.

  “Do you two ever practise when we’re not filming you?” Katie asked, freezing them in place.

  Tyler held back a sigh. Another silent entrance by the Coen wannabes.

  “Yo.” Brock waved. He looked happy. Bastard.

  “We do.” Evie pulled her hair free and retied it with a sidelong glare at Tyler. He blinked innocently ba
ck at her, waiting for her to finish so he could tease it out again.

  Katie crouched in front of them, Brock joining her and aiming the camera at their faces. The microphone was thrust in front of them. “How are you two feeling about the performance tomorrow?”

  “Good but sad,” Tyler said.

  “Me too,” Evie agreed.

  “Sad? Why?”

  Tyler glanced at Evie.

  She blushed and said, “Because I’ve had a lot of fun doing this. I’ve met some wonderful people and learnt some new moves. But mostly,” she poked him, “I won’t ever have as good an excuse to spend this much time with a gorgeous dancer again.”

  He decided her hair could stay as it was.

  “And what about you, Tyler?” Katie asked.

  “I’m sad because tomorrow will be the last time I dance with Evie.” He turned to her. “It’s been a pleasure to teach you, Godzilla.”

  “It’s been a pleasure to learn,” she replied softly.

  “Will you two keep in touch?” Katie asked.

  “Yes,” Evie said.

  A lump formed in his throat.

  Katie smiled. “What’s been the worst thing about this experience?”

  “Falling out of love with a really good song,” Evie said darkly. “I used to like Jet.”

  Tyler forced the lump down. “Told you so,” he said, voice only slightly raspy.

  Evie raised an eyebrow. “Can I change my answer to ‘Dealing with this guy’s snark’?”

  Oh. So that’s how it’s gonna be? Tyler grinned and tickled her. She tried to tackle him. They wrestled until they spotted Katie glaring at them, prompting them to sit up and straighten their clothes. Brock’s grin threatened to split his face. Ass. He had too much to smile about.

  “As I was saying,” Katie said icily, “what was the best thing about this?”

  Tyler felt himself go red. He glanced at Evie. She was blushing too.

  “Meeting her,” he said just as she blurted out, “Meeting him.” They looked at each other in surprise, then turned away, embarrassed.

  The side of Katie’s mouth jumped upwards. She suppressed it with visible effort and asked a few more questions. Evie took his hand and he held it tight, not quite able to make himself let go.