I Wanna Be Where You Are

by Kristina Forest

  Eli doesn’t wait to hear if Ms. Linda will agree. He hops in his car, reverses into the street, and drives away.

  “Can you believe him?” Ms. Linda asks, looking exhausted.

  “He’ll be back,” Larissa says. “You know he will. He’s just upset. You both are.”

  “But he has no reason to be upset with me,” Ms. Linda says. “I’m the one who convinced your father he should pay for Eli to go to art school. Don’t you think I know how gifted my son is? Even though I want more for him, I’m still agreeing to let him go. Why am I the bad guy?”

  Larissa puts her arm around her mother. “Come on, let’s go in the house.”

  Quietly, they walk up the driveway and head back inside. Minutes later, Mom appears in the doorway, holding what’s left of her pie.

  “I think we’d better go home,” she says to me.

  We silently walk across the street. I spare one last glance down the block, looking for Eli’s car. I wish he’d finished his sentence. Now I’ll spend the rest of the night wondering what he was going to say. Wondering if it was going to be something good …

  Or something bad.

  Chapter 31

  A Philosophy

  Later, I call Eli and it goes straight to voicemail. I want to know if he’s okay. And why he apologized to Mom for bringing me to North Carolina when it wasn’t his fault. Why he apologized to me.

  I flop onto my bed, and once again find myself staring up at my Avery Johnson poster. When I did this a week ago, I felt so hopeful. Now everything is ruined.

  The photo of my dad holding me catches my eye. I stare at the broad smile on his face and wonder how different my life would be if he never died. Would he allow me to go to the conservatory if I was accepted? Maybe I wouldn’t have had to sneak away to audition because he would have gladly taken me.

  I guess I’ll never know.

  Eli thinks that everything happens for a reason. But I have a hard time understanding this philosophy. People lose loved ones; they get broken bones and broken hearts. They have lifelong dreams crushed in a matter of seconds. What are the reasons for that?

  I feel like Princess Aurora in the ballet, The Sleeping Beauty. She was just trying to enjoy her birthday party, and then she pricked her finger on a spindle and slept for a hundred years until Prince Désiré came along and woke her up with a kiss. What we have in common is that we had bigger plans for our lives, but then we got locked away against our will. The difference is that, despite what Eli said, I don’t think anyone is coming to save me.

  So I’ll have to save myself.

  I hop up and open my door, planning to walk straight into Mom’s room, but she’s already standing in the doorway. I blink at her, surprised.

  “I was going to say good night,” she says.

  “I was actually coming to talk to you, too,” I say.

  “Can I say what I have to say first?”

  I nod and take in a deep breath, waiting.

  “When you were younger and had nightmares, you and I had a routine,” she says. “I’d hear you rustling around in your bed, then I’d hear your little feet padding down the hall. You’d stop at the foot of my bed, and I’d open my eyes and you’d be standing right there, waiting for me to wake up. Then you’d climb up beside me, and I’d convince you that your nightmares weren’t real. You’d fall asleep after about ten minutes. You remember that?”

  I nod again, thinking of how her calm voice used to soothe me back to sleep.

  “I had no idea what I was doing,” she says. “I was raising you by myself, but I knew that as long as I kept you safe, I was doing something right. It felt like it was us against the world. It still feels that way sometimes.” She looks down and smiles softly to herself. Then she lifts her eyes to meet mine. “I know you love ballet and that this conservatory could open a lot of doors for you, but I’m not comfortable with you being all the way in New York City.”

  “But Mom—”

  She holds up her hand. “Let me finish. You think I don’t want to let you go because I think something bad will happen to you, like your father. He wasn’t a careful person, and when I look at you, it’s true that I’m reminded all the time that I could lose you, too, just as easily. But that’s not why I don’t want to let you go. I know you’re careful, and intelligent, and capable of being on your own. I just thought I’d have you here a little longer. I wasn’t expecting to give you up to the world just yet. This all took me by surprise, and I let my feelings get in the way of considering what was best for you. That wasn’t fair.”

  I stare at her and continue to listen, waiting anxiously for what she’ll say next.

  “So, if you’re accepted into the conservatory, you have my permission to go,” she says. “And I’ll support whatever decision you make even if you don’t get in. Whether that’s to move to New York after graduation, or if you want to try something else.”

  I freeze and replay her words to make sure I understood correctly. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” she says.

  I kind of just stare at her in disbelief. Then my words come in a torrent. “Thank you, Mom,” I say, hugging her. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  She wraps her arms around me, and I marvel at how much I’d misunderstood her all this time.

  “I’m so sorry for bringing up my dad like that the other night,” I say. “I really didn’t—”

  “It’s all right, baby,” she says softly. “To be honest, he probably would have been proud of the adventure you had.”

  I hug her tighter. I’ve never thought about how much I’ll miss her, too. It really has been just us for so long. My heart sinks at the realization that a time will eventually come when I won’t see her every day.

  “No matter what ends up happening, I promise I’ll always make time to visit you,” I tell her. “And I’ll call every day.”

  “You’d better,” she says. She pulls away and gives me a stern look. “But you’re still grounded. No car for a month. You hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I’m so happy I don’t even care. I could walk to school for the rest of the year and still not care.

  “You’d better get to sleep,” she says. “Back to school for you, tomorrow.”

  “Wait,” I say, as she turns toward her room. “I’m sorry that your vacation ended early, and that you had to come home to so much chaos. Did you at least have a good time?”

  She smiles. “I did. Honestly, I was a little upset when Jean-Marc got sick because I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I haven’t relaxed like that in a long time. I need to do it more often.”

  “I hope you do,” I say.

  In another version of Mom’s life, maybe she isn’t a nurse or a widow. She’s a thrill seeker or an adventuress. Maybe I’m not even her daughter, and she has the freedom to travel the world according to her whims. We’ll never know.

  But this is what I know about the life she lives now: she is my mother, and I am her daughter. We’re not perfect or trying to be. But we’re trying to understand each other better.

  I hug her again, and this time she laughs.

  “What was that for?” she asks.

  “Just because I love you.”

  She smooths her hand over my hair like she used to do all those times when I’d climb into her bed, seeking refuge from my nightmares. “I love you, too.”

  * * *

  I’m lying in bed, once again staring up at my poster of Avery Johnson. I’m thinking about the philosophy that everything happens for a reason, and that maybe there is more truth to it than I thought.

  If Mom didn’t take those extra seconds to run upstairs to get her makeup bag, then Eli wouldn’t have had time to catch me and ask for a ride. And if we didn’t have our accident, I wouldn’t have gone to the audition in North Carolina, which means I wouldn’t have reconnected with Trey and Larissa. Maybe I wouldn’t have bumped into Avery Johnson in the hallway. As strange as it sounds, maybe even my injury happened for a reason. It�
�s the starting point that set off this chain of events. And, finally, if this trip never happened, Eli and I would be in a completely different place.

  I don’t know what he was going to say to me, but I’m not going to wait around until he’s ready. Knowing him, it could take a year and a half. If I want to talk, I’ll have to find him. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

  Chapter 32

  Pas De Deux

  MONDAY

  I dream that I’m looking for Eli in school, but the entire building is empty. I keep walking through the hall, searching and searching, but there’s no sign of him.

  It seems like my dream has become reality when I notice that his car isn’t in his driveway when I leave for school in the morning. I don’t see him in the hallways, either. Part of me hopes he’ll find me at my locker, just like the day he gave me the sketch of my face, but it doesn’t happen.

  “Have you seen Eli around?” I ask Reina later in the cafeteria as we’re standing in the lunch line.

  “Nope,” she says, scowling at the meatball subs in front of us. “Whether or not there’s actual meat in these meatballs is questionable.” She turns to me. “What kind of lunch do you think they’ll have at the conservatory?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, looking around the cafeteria like Eli might materialize out of nowhere. “I don’t even know if I got in.”

  Reina pulls on my shirtsleeve to get my attention. “Relax, Chlo. Maybe he got caught smoking in the courtyard again and has in-school suspension. I’m sure he’ll find you after school so you guys can suck face.” She sticks her finger in her mouth, like the thought of us kissing makes her want to puke.

  I laugh and shake my head. “You’re so dramatic.”

  “Maybe, but you love me anyway.”

  We spend the rest of lunch looking at Reina’s shoe options for prom again. Her dress is strapless and red satin, old-Hollywood style. Eventually, she calls over her date, Greg, and makes him weigh in, too. When the bell rings and we’re filing out of the cafeteria, Reina says, “You sure you don’t want to go to prom with me and Greg? I swear we won’t be those people who pack on the PDA. We’ll probably only make out in the limo, like, once or twice.”

  I start to say no, but it’s silly to think that every school-dance experience will be bad just because I had an unfortunate accident trying to get to Homecoming. Like with everything else, maybe I need to give prom a chance, too.

  “I’ll think about it,” I say.

  * * *

  I find Eli in the art room after school. I don’t know why I didn’t think to look here earlier.

  He’s the only one in the room, and he’s sitting close to an easel, sketching with the utmost concentration. He’s wearing big noise-canceling headphones, and his back is angled toward the door, so he doesn’t hear me as I walk in. And he doesn’t hear me as I creep closer to him, trying to get a better view of what he’s drawing.

  I make out the shape of a girl’s body. She’s in mid-leap, her legs outstretched like she’s soaring through the sky. Her arms are in arabesque, and her expression is serene. She looks strong and confident, ready to conquer the world one leap at a time.

  It takes me a minute to realize that this girl is me. This is the drawing he was hesitant to show me in the St. Maria dance studio. But this is much larger than the page in his sketchbook.

  I gasp in awe, and it’s loud enough to finally make him turn around.

  Shocked, he drops his pencil and it clatters to the floor. “Shit,” he says, eyes wide. “What are you doing in here?”

  I don’t answer him. I’m still staring at the drawing. I step forward to get a closer look at the details. He even added the scar on my right forearm and the scar on my ankle, peeking out between my ribbons.

  “This is beautiful,” I say. I look at him. He has dark circles around his eyes, and I wonder if he got any sleep last night. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

  He stares at me for a moment, then nods.

  “It’s amazing,” I tell him.

  He doesn’t say anything. He looks at the drawing and shrugs a little. “Thanks.”

  “Sorry,” I say, picking up on his hesitancy. I realize how invasive I’m being right now. I take a step back. “I know you didn’t want me to see this yet.”

  “It’s for my senior project,” he says. He walks over and opens one of the lockers on the far side of the room and pulls out large sheets of paper. He spreads them out on the desks.

  They’re more drawings of people. The first is of Trey driving in his Jeep, laughing. One hand is on the wheel and another is moving through his dreads. The next one is of Geezer lying in the grass by the reflecting pool in D.C. Then there’s one of Larissa and Will slow dancing in Will’s backyard, and there’s a drawing of Will and his roommates gathered around the television playing a video game. The last drawing is his dad carrying his fishing rod and bait. He’s giving a thumbs-up.

  “This is the story I’m choosing to tell,” Eli explains.

  I glance back at the unfinished drawing of me on the easel. “Have you been working on these all day?”

  “Yeah.”

  We stare down at the drawings and fall silent for a moment.

  “Why did you stop responding to my messages?” I ask. “You can’t just shut me out like that instead of talking to me. It’s the same thing you did before.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry,” he says. “After you left my dad’s house, my mom called me, and she was pissed that I took you with me. She said that I had no business getting you in trouble like that, and I realized she was right.”

  “So you thought you’d just ignore me instead of saying something?” I ask, annoyed. “What kind of response is that?”

  “A stupid one, I know. But, regardless, you could do a lot better than me. That’s what I was trying to tell you last night.”

  I blink at him. “That’s what you wanted to tell me? What does that even mean?”

  “Come on, Chlo,” he says. “You don’t lie. You don’t get in trouble, and last week was the first time you did either of those things. I’m a bad influence.”

  “I lied to my mom before I even knew you’d end up coming with me.”

  “I crashed your car,” he says. “I blackmailed you into giving me a ride. Who does shit like that? Shitty people, that’s who.”

  “Well, the blackmail was messed up,” I agree. “But crashing my car was an accident. You only did that because I threw up!”

  He starts pacing the room in that fidgety way of his. “I don’t know,” he says. “We have the rest of spring and summer. Cool. But in the fall, you could be in New York City if you get into that dance school, and I’ll be in San Francisco. It won’t last.”

  My stomach clenches. “What happened to us visiting each other?”

  He stops pacing and looks at me. “We say that now, but we both know it probably won’t happen. You might be too busy dancing, and you could meet some ballet guy, who’s, like, a New York City trust-fund baby or some shit, and he’ll sweep you off your feet, literally, and you’ll forget about me.”

  He starts pacing again.

  I’ve seen a lot of different versions of Eli these past few days, but this is a new one: insecure.

  I step forward and stand in front of him. I put my hand on his chest, so he’ll stop pacing. I can feel his heart beating beneath my palm. “It’s true we don’t know what’s going to happen, but the best things happen when we don’t plan them out. Like our whole trip. Like with you and me.”

  “I don’t know,” he repeats. He shakes his head and looks away.

  I lower my hand and link it with his. At first his fingers are limp, but then they wrap around mine.

  “We can worry about the fall when it gets here,” I say. “Plus, one time this boy told me that everything happens for a reason. So we should just relax.”

  His expression softens. “Sounds like a smart guy.”

  I shrug. “Ehh, I guess he’s kind of smart.”r />
  “And funny.”

  “Less funny than he thinks.”

  He begins to smile. “But is he handsome?”

  “Oh yeah. Very good-looking.”

  He flashes his white teeth. “Oh really?”

  I nod. “Really.”

  He puts his hand on my waist and pulls me closer. I take in his familiar scent.

  “I’m sorry for being stupid,” he says.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Just don’t do it again.”

  He leans down, and I close my eyes, waiting for him to kiss me. I feel his lips hovering over mine, but they don’t make contact.

  I open my eyes. He’s looking at me with his wolfish grin. “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  “For the record, if some dancer guy tries to steal you, I’ll fly there and kick his ass.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Stop it.”

  “For real. I’ll—”

  I kiss him so he’ll be quiet.

  Chapter 33

  Message

  From: Jeffrey Baptiste [jeffreybaptiste@averyjohnson.org]

  Sent: Thursday, May 9, 2019, 2:11 p.m.

  To: Chloe Pierce [cpierce17@gmail.com]

  Subject: Avery Johnson Dance Conservatory Decision Letter

  Dear Ms. Pierce:

  We were impressed with your dancing at the Raleigh, North Carolina, audition …

  Chapter 34

  Promenade

  MAY

  Here’s something you should know about me: I’m going to the Junior-Senior Prom.

  “Come get in the picture, Chlo,” Reina says.

  We’re standing on my front lawn, taking pictures as we wait for the limo. Reina is a knockout in her dress. When Greg first saw her, his pale cheeks turned the same color as his matching red vest.

  I’m wearing a strapless, violet, floor-length chiffon dress, with silver sequins sewn into the bodice and on the hem. It was the first dress I tried on at the store, and I loved it so much I didn’t need to see any other options. Larissa was so excited when I told her I was going to prom that she came home to do my hair and makeup. About an hour ago, she twisted my hair into an intricate topknot that I’ll never be able to replicate and applied shimmer to my eyelids and cheekbones.