I Wanna Be Where You Are

by Kristina Forest

  When we’re done, my hands are shaking as I find a place off to the side at the barre. A few dancers shoot sad glances my way, but I hold my head high. I made a mistake, but I came to this audition and gave it all I had. I’ll be heartbroken if I’m not accepted, but I didn’t do all of this for nothing. And if I managed to make it here, imagine how much further I can go.

  My dream doesn’t have to end with the conservatory. I can still move to New York City and become a professional ballerina if I don’t give up on myself.

  After all the groups have danced, Avery Johnson and Jeffrey Baptiste thank everyone for coming. They tell us that we’ll receive an e-mail in a couple of weeks that will let us know whether or not we’ve been chosen. We all file out of the studio, sweaty and exhausted. Almost every girl walks to the bathroom, and I get stuck at the end of the line. Everyone takes so long changing in the stalls that by the time I’m back in the hallway, the building is almost empty. I rush to the lobby, so busy trying to make sure Eli doesn’t miss his train that when Avery Johnson rounds the corner, I crash right into him. My bag drops at his feet.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I say quickly.

  Avery Johnson smiles and bends down to hand me my bag. “In a bit of a hurry?”

  I shake my head. “No, not really. I mean, yes, I sort of am. Not a huge rush, though.” I let out a nervous laugh.

  Dear Lord, I’m finally talking to Avery Johnson, and I can’t even give him a straight answer to a yes-or-no question!

  “Get home safe, all right? Thank you for coming today.” He smiles at me and walks away in his elegant manner, and suddenly I know that I can’t let him go without saying something more. This might be my only chance.

  “Um, Mr. Johnson,” I call.

  He stops and turns around. “Yes?”

  I suck in a breath. What do I even want to say? That I want him to look past the fact that I messed up? That I lied to my mom and drove miles to be here, and I wish that were enough for him to choose me?

  “Um, I just wanted to say that I admire you so much, and you’re my biggest role model. I even have a poster of you in my room, and every day I look at it and feel inspired. And … well, that’s all.”

  What the heck did I just say? Of all things, I told him about my poster. Now I sound like a creep. After this, I’m going to buy duct tape to cover my mouth, because I should never be allowed to speak again.

  Avery Johnson’s smile returns. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say. If we see each other again, you’ll have to bring that poster so I can sign it.” He winks at me. “Have a good night, Chloe.”

  He walks away, and all I can do is stand there and stare at his back until he turns down a side hallway.

  Avery Johnson just winked at me.

  He said he would sign my poster.

  And, wait a second … he knew my name.

  Chapter 22

  Eli Has Another Idea

  When I walk outside, I spot Eli leaning against my car, smoking. Geezer pokes his head out of the back seat and sniffs the air. Eli puts out his cigarette when he sees me and waves.

  “Eli!” I shout, sprinting toward him.

  He pushes up off of the car, and his face lights up. “What? What happened?”

  I skid to a halt right in front of him. “I ran into Avery Johnson in the hall, and I told him about how he’s my role model, and he said thank you, and then he smiled at me and winked! And he knew my name! He must have been looking at my paperwork before I talked to him!” My words come out in a jumbled rush. It’s a miracle Eli understands anything that I’ve said.

  “That’s dope, Chlo! Does that mean you made it?”

  “I don’t know! I messed up some of the choreography. I think I did well otherwise, though. Honestly, I’m just so happy that I even made it here and saw him at all!”

  Eli laughs, and then he hugs me. His arms are a cocoon. I try to remember every detail from this moment: the way he smells, his warm skin, the sound of his heartbeat. These are things I never want to forget.

  “I’m happy if you’re happy,” he says into my hair.

  I pull away a little so that I can look at his face, and he stares back at me. My eyes fall to his lips, but this time I don’t chastise myself to look away.

  This is Eli Greene. The first person I wanted to see after my audition. The boy who once broke my heart and who I forgave. Even when I thought I hated him, my feelings never really went away.

  If I can be confident onstage, why can’t I be confident offstage, too? I feel like I can do anything, everything. Which explains why I slowly stand on tiptoe so that my face is closer to his. He doesn’t back away. My heart is pounding as I lift my hand and place it on his cheek. He lowers his hands to my waist and …

  His phone starts ringing.

  Blinking, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and frowns.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “My alarm,” he says. “My train comes in thirty minutes.”

  And just like that I come crashing right back down to Earth. “Oh yeah. Okay.”

  There’s so much I want to say. I should tell him that I’ve had more fun these last few days than I’ve had in years. I should say that I’m not ready for our trip to be over and that I want to go with him to his dad’s house. But, instead, I stand there silently staring at the ground, arguing with myself over whether or not I should say how I feel.

  “I have an idea,” he suddenly says.

  I look up at him. “I’m listening.”

  “I planned to be back at my mom’s by Sunday morning. If you come with me to my dad’s, we can drive back to Jersey together and be there before your mom gets home.” He grins and adds, “I’d almost be doing you a favor, you know. You’ll get out of driving on the highway again.”

  “Okay,” I say quickly, at the same time as he blushes and says, “But I understand if you don’t want to.”

  We try to talk again at the same time, and we both laugh.

  “I want to go with you,” I say.

  He smiles, almost like he’s relieved. “Cool.”

  I just made it through the fiercest audition. Why should I let the momentum stop now? I want to tackle something else, too. “I can drive to your dad’s,” I say.

  “Really?” He blinks. “Are you sure? It’s a two-hour drive, mostly on the highway. And it’s getting dark.”

  I nod. “I’m sure.”

  I don’t know how to express how happy I am that our adventure isn’t over yet. Next stop: Eli’s dad’s.

  Chapter 23

  Mr. Greene

  By some miracle, there’s not much traffic on the way to his dad’s. I still can’t bring myself to drive in the fast lane, but this time around Eli doesn’t complain. He’s pretty relaxed, but the closer we get the more fidgety he becomes. First, he begins bouncing his knees so hard that he shakes the car. Then he sifts through my glove compartment and rearranges all my loose napkins and pens. When he repeatedly flicks his lighter on and off, I know something is wrong.

  “Are you okay?” I finally ask.

  “Yeah,” he says. “Why?”

  “You won’t sit still.”

  He closes the glove compartment and reclines his seat. “I’m fine.” He stares out the window for a while. Then, “My dad’s probably pissed at me.”

  “Why would he be pissed?”

  “Because I’ve been avoiding his calls all week, and he left a bunch of voicemails asking when I was gonna come down.”

  “What? You said he didn’t care when you got to his house as long as you got there by Saturday for the tour.”

  “He didn’t actually say that verbatim, but I know it’s the truth. No matter how many times he calls.”

  “But what if he called your mom?” I ask, starting to panic. “What if she finds out where we are and tells my mom?”

  “No, he wouldn’t call her,” he says. “They don’t talk to each other unless it has to do with money. He’d call Larissa before he’d call m
y mom, and, as far as I know, he hasn’t called Larissa yet.” He turns to me. “We’re good.”

  That’s a relief, but I’m also upset Eli didn’t tell me the truth about his dad.

  “Maybe your dad is pissed, but I’m sure his feelings are hurt, too,” I say.

  “I mean—” he starts, then stops and shakes his head. “It’s hard to be around him. I always feel like he wants something out of me, like I’m not living up to his idea of what a son should be. I wasn’t gonna come down here this week, but Larissa convinced me to. She said I should tell him about art school in person. I guess I respect him enough to do that. I just don’t know how to tell him.”

  “Aren’t you worried he’s not going to pay for you to go?”

  “He has to pay. It’s in the custody agreement.”

  “Oh.” I’m not sure what else to say to him. Then I get an idea. “Let’s role-play.”

  He laughs. “No.”

  “Yes,” I say. I make my voice deeper. “Are you ready for college, Elijah?”

  He snorts. “He doesn’t talk like that.”

  “Let me start over.” I clear my throat. “So, have you thought about what electives you want to take at UNC in the fall?”

  He starts to answer, but he stops and laughs. “You’re right. Role-playing like this is weird.”

  “Role-playing? What are you talking about? It’s me, your dad, trying to have a conversation with you about college.”

  He shakes his head, still smiling. “Okay, Dad, remember a couple years ago when you met my art teacher, Mr. Curtis, at that open house?” I nod. “Well, he said he thinks I have a lot of potential, and he suggested I apply to a couple art schools. So … I did. And I got in.”

  “What are you trying to tell me? That you’re going to art school instead of UNC?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “The San Francisco Art Institute.”

  “I won’t lie, I am surprised. But I’m proud of you for making your own decision instead of following along with what I think is best. You’ll do great there.” I pat him on the shoulder.

  “That’s definitely not how it will go.”

  “I know,” I say. But I’m pushing for optimism, because we just came off the exit, and now we’re driving through the beach town where Mr. Greene lives, and Eli is visibly more anxious.

  I roll up my window because it’s a little chilly, but not before I get a whiff of the salty air. It’s darker now, so I can’t see the ocean, but I can hear it. Eli directs me down street after street until we finally pull up in front of Mr. Greene’s house. He has a wraparound porch. If he wants to swim in the ocean, he only has to walk a few feet from his back door.

  “This is beautiful,” I say.

  Eli stares intently at the house and doesn’t respond.

  Before he opens his door, I say, “Maybe you should just show him your art. Then he’ll see how important it is to you.”

  “Maybe,” he mumbles.

  He gets out, gathers his things, and puts Geezer on his leash. I follow suit, and as we’re walking up the driveway, it occurs to me that I was so excited to spend more time with Eli, I never asked if it was actually okay for me to be here.

  “Um, Eli,” I say, “did you tell your dad I was coming?”

  From the look on his face, I can tell the answer is no. I freeze, unsure if I should turn around and get back in my car. Then the porch light cuts on and the front door opens. I see Mr. Greene’s silhouette in the doorway. He steps outside and peers at us. He’s tall and looks so much like Eli. The only difference is that his hair is gray and his brown skin is a few shades darker. He’s dressed in a crisp cardigan and slacks.

  “So, you finally decided to show,” he says to Eli.

  Eli stops at the bottom of the porch steps. For a brief moment, he has the same look of fear and embarrassment on his face that he did when Mom caught him climbing our cherry tree years ago. Then he stands up straighter and the look disappears.

  “Better late than never,” he says.

  Mr. Greene nods at me and raises an eyebrow. “And you brought a guest.”

  I blink, surprised that he doesn’t recognize me.

  “It’s Chloe Pierce,” Eli says. “Ms. Carol’s daughter.” When Mr. Greene doesn’t say anything, Eli adds, “They live across the street from us.”

  Mr. Greene steps closer. I wave and say, “Hi, it’s nice to see you.”

  “Hello,” he says. His tone isn’t exactly welcoming. He turns his attention back to Eli. “Elijah, what makes you think I’m actually going to let you in my house? You obviously don’t respect me enough to be here when I asked you to be.”

  “Dad, come on.”

  “Don’t Dad, come on me. Who do you think you are? I don’t care if you’re eighteen. You’re still the child and I’m the parent. When I tell you to be somewhere, you be there. And I bet your mom has no idea where you are, does she? She probably wasn’t even paying attention.”

  Eli narrows his eyes. “Don’t bring her into it.”

  I take a step backward and bump into Geezer. I shouldn’t be here to witness this argument. I shouldn’t be here at all. What I should do is quietly walk back to my car and drive home.

  “I’m here now,” Eli says. “I didn’t miss the tour. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  “You don’t see what the big deal is.” Mr. Greene laughs. “You’ve got a lot of nerve. You know that?”

  “I must get it from you,” Eli mumbles.

  Mr. Greene’s eyes flash. He looks like he wants to throttle his son. Eli stands stock-still, staring at his dad, waiting to see what he’ll do. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I would never talk to Mom like that in a million years.

  Mr. Greene closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he speaks again, his voice is calmer.

  “I have to continue working. We’ll finish this discussion in the morning.” He glances at me. “Please make up the guest room for Chloe.”

  Without another word, he turns around and walks inside.

  All is quiet for a few seconds. I’m still reeling from witnessing their argument. Eli just stares at the doorway.

  Softly, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  He doesn’t turn to look at me. “I’m fine.”

  “I thought things were going to get worse.”

  “Nah, that wouldn’t happen,” he says. “He’s too obsessed with appearances. He doesn’t want to be known as the Black guy on his block who screams at his son.”

  “Oh.” I look at the houses around us. Everything about this street looks quiet and peaceful, like nothing out of the ordinary ever happens.

  I follow Eli inside. The house is spacious, but it doesn’t feel very lived in. I get the sense that Mr. Greene is hardly home, and whenever he’s here, he spends most of his time in his office.

  Wordlessly, Eli leads me upstairs to the guest room. The furniture is simple: one white dresser and one twin bed with a light blue comforter and pillows to match. All I want to do is lie down and fall asleep, but I stand in the doorway, hesitant.

  “Maybe I should go,” I say. “You and your dad have a lot going on. I’ll just be in the way.”

  Eli turns around to look at me, and his eyes are red. I want to reach out and hug him.

  “Stay,” he says. He gently places his hand on my shoulder, like it might keep me in this spot. “Please.”

  How can I say no? I hadn’t realized that things between him and his dad were so bad.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” I say.

  He takes a second to contemplate, but then he walks out of the room and I follow him outside.

  Chapter 24

  Life’s a Beach

  We walk around his dad’s neighborhood in silence for a while. Geezer leads the way, and we turn down each street according to his whims. An ice cream truck cruises by and we flag him down for snacks. Afterward, we find ourselves looping around to his dad’s street. Instead of walking up the driveway to the front door, we make our way to the backy
ard and head for the beach. It’s completely empty except for us.

  Eli lets Geezer off of his leash, and he runs down to the water but quickly makes his way back to us when he sees how far the tide comes in. Eli shrugs off his hoodie and lays it on the sand so that we can sit. I bring my knees up to my chest and run my fingers through the sand. I don’t want to say anything until he’s ready to talk.

  He finally breaks the silence. “The only reason I decided to play basketball was because he wanted me to.”

  I look over at him, and he’s staring straight ahead at the ocean.

  “After he moved so far away, I figured he wouldn’t care if I quit the team,” he says. “But once he found out, he bitched about it for weeks because he thought it would make my college apps weak. I felt like everyone always wanted something from me. After I quit, it was like all of my responsibilities disappeared. I didn’t have a coach to impress or teammates who depended on me. I knew my dad was disappointed, but at least the bar wasn’t set so high anymore.”

  “Is that when you started to hang out with Isiah?” I ask.

  He nods. “But after a while I realized he just wanted stuff from me, too. Rides to parties, money for alcohol. We didn’t have a real friendship. I cut him off a couple months ago.”

  I nod, realizing this is most likely when he reconnected with Trey.

  “Do you remember how hype I used to get when he’d take me fishing?” he asks. “Every trip would end with him saying how he wanted me to follow in his footsteps so that we could open our own corporate law firm. You know, forget the man, do our own thing, and all that.”

  “I used to get jealous when he took you fishing,” I say, picturing the drawing he showed me in his sketchbook. Eli looks surprised, so I clarify. “I don’t mean the act of going fishing. I mean because you had a dad who could do stuff like that with you. Or rather, I was jealous that you had a dad and I didn’t.”

  He shifts so that he’s facing me. “I never knew you felt that way. You never talk about him.”