Ineed time. Time to figure out where I am mentally. Time to figure out what happened with Josh last night—and this morning. Time to figure out how I'm going to handle working with Max.
I don't have time for any of it.
I slow my pace to a walk as I enter the auditorium where we're all meeting this morning. I know I'll be in dance rehearsals all day with Kori.
"All right, everyone," Henderson calls, quieting the talking among the cast. "We've almost made it to the end. We're in the home stretch now. One last show to start." He introduces Melinda Stacy and Max McGovern to the rest of us.
It's a struggle not to gag or grimace at his smug, stupid face. I can't believe I let him touch me. I can't suppress the little shiver that goes through me at that thought.
Henderson continues. "Kori's going to get started with Melinda, Max, Braedyn, and Leslie on the dance sequence. That number is about fourteen minutes long. The good news is there's no vocals to learn. The bad news is that it's fourteen minutes of dancing to teach."
There's a murmur through the crowd. I see Max's eyes zero in on me as a sly grin spreads across his face.
Makes me want to take a shower.
Then I notice Josh's gaze darting from me to Max and back again. Great. I do not have time to make heads or tails of any of this. I give Josh a quick, small grin before turning my attention back to Henderson, who's laying out the schedule.
I'm not sure there's enough caffeine to get me through this. Last night was stupid. To be clear, last night was awesome. Staying up most of the night, expending tremendous amounts of energy was stupid.
Henderson dismisses us, and I stand up to follow Kori into the rehearsal room. Max slides up to me, placing a hand on my lower back. "Well, well, well, if it isn't LeslieMoose." He emphasizes the last name as if it's an insult.
I twist away from him. "It's Leslie Layne, thank you very much." It still feels weird to say.
"So, you're …here?" he asks.
"Yup. Been here most of the summer." I don't need to tell him how I started or that I'm the understudy. I don't need to give Max any information at all.
"I wondered where you'd slunk off to after FBBC."
"I slunk nowhere. I'm loving my time here at The Edison." I'm not even lying when I say it. If you'd asked me two months ago if I'd ever feel this way, I would have said it would be impossible.
Finding your place in the world does wonders to change your outlook. Also, a good therapist helps tremendously too.
"Have you given up on ballet then?"
Given up. Like a common quitter. No, I tell myself. I did not quit. I moved on with purpose.
Mostly because they forced me out, but potato, pahtato.
We're in the dance room, so I sit down on the floor to put on my ballet shoes. We'll do the warm-up in our soft shoes before going to our pointe shoes. I nod to my feet. "Obviously not. It just looks a little different than before. Why areyouhere?"
He flashes that oh-so-confident grin that makes me want to punch him in the face. "I'm moving to Broadway. I have to pad the resumé first. Make it look like I don't have it too easy."
He's been gunning to fill Robert Fairchild's ballet shoes since I met him.
Kori announces that it's time to start. "Leslie is your dance captain. She'll be leading your barre warm-up today. She's also the alternate for Lise."
Max raises an eyebrow. "Alternate?" he whispers. Except it's the type of whisper your drunk, deaf uncle uses. Everyone turns to look at him.
Kori continues without missing a beat. "Leslie will play Lise in at least two shows, as per her contract. Melinda, I believe you were aware of this?"
She nods. "Grayson called me a few weeks ago." She gives me a small smile. I'll get her on team Leslie, and together we'll defeat the arrogant Max. I smile back.
I pull up my playlist, hooking my phone to the sound system before walking to the middle of the floor. Kori's already moved the portable barre out for me, so I take my place, leading Max, Melinda, and Braedyn in our warm-up. It feels good to call out my favorite combinations from years of technique classes.
It also feels good to know that Max has to listen to me. Male ballet dancers always have a level of prestige due to their scarceness. It's a running joke that females can train from the womb, morning, noon, and night, and still never achieve success. Present company obviously included. But a guy shows interest, anywhere after the age of twelve, and suddenly he's the next Baryshnikov.
Max actually has the talent to back up his swagger. The bedroom prowess, not so much. I giggle at that thought. I see him looking at me, questioning what I find so funny.
