I smile sweetly. I'm not sure what I was worried about. This might actually be fun.
Although fun is not exactly the word that runs through my mind four hours later, when I'm covered in sweat and my feet are raw. And this is just the beginning.
We've got to work on the ensemble piece of the dance now.
Kori consults her schedule. "Let's break for lunch. Make sure to eat and hydrate, and we'll meet back here at two."
I flex and extend my toes, trying to get some feeling back in them, but knowing the moment it returns, it'll be sharp, stinging pain. While the dancing and the aerial work has kept me fit, my feet have had a break for the summer. And they're going to make me pay for it now.
"I think I'm going to dance this afternoon in my soft shoes," I tell Melinda. Her feet, gnarled and calloused, have been spared open wounds. "I haven't been on pointe in a few weeks, and my feet got soft." Most people assume that ballet dancers, who look so beautiful while dancing, have beautiful feet as well. It's quite the opposite. That beauty exacts a toll on us.
She nods, knowing what I'm going through. She reaches into her bag and hands me a roll-on tube of Tiger Balm which I use on my arches. "Thanks. Mine's up in my room." I didn't have time to grab it this morning after waking up so late with Josh.
Josh.
The mere thought of last night makes a small smile dance across my lips. I hope he's at lunch. Suddenly, I've got a little more energy to pull myself together to get up to the dorms.
But on the way up the hill, I start to think. If there was an award for overthinking, surely, I would win that one. Things were good, up until I had that small freak out about people possibly finding out about us. I could probably also win an award for messing things up.
I'll just tell Josh that I'm still working things out in my head, and the pressure of everyone else having expectations for us is too much to deal with. Surely he'll be okay with the fact that I need a little distance, at least in public, for right now.
As soon as I enter the dining room, I feel his eyes trained on me. I give him a quick glance with a hint of a smile, before turning to Melinda to show her where things are located. "Who's that cutie?" She elbows me. "The guy with the great hair. I saw him earlier and wanted to ask. Well, first off, is he straight?"
I follow her gaze. Of course, she's looking at Josh. I wish I could tell her just how hetero he is. "Josh is our musical director. You'll get to work with him a lot."
"Yumm-o," she says. "I think singing just got bumped up to being my favorite thing." She glances over her shoulder at Max, who's already hitting on unsuspecting chorus girls. "I mean, Max is pretty to look at, but he doesn't bring a whole lot more than that to the table. Know what I mean?"
Unfortunately, I do. She looks back to Josh and smiles at him.
Jealousy roils through me. As if it's not enough that she has my part—the part I was literallybornto play— now she wants my man? Hell to the no.
I mean, she doesn't know he's my man. And I can't let her know that either.
Oh shit. This is all sorts of confusing in my brain. Like trigonometry or trying to figure out the plot toLost. I look at my still empty plate and am tempted to walk away.
Tempted, but I don't do it.
Not eating will not change my job status at The Edison. It will not change Max from being the conceited prick that he is. It will not make my relationship with Josh easier.
Food has nothing to do with any of it.
And I can't really control any of those things either.
All I can do is take a deep breath and try to put one foot in front of the other. I put a scoop of tuna salad on a bed of lettuce and tomatoes. I add a slice of bread. Looking down at my full plate, I smile. I may actually figure this out. Putting lunch on a dish may not seem like a big feat, but for me, I feel like I climbed Mount Everest.
Now if I could just figure out how to process my feelings about Josh. It would be easy to say I’m in love with him, but I'm not sure that's possible. I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. I want to be. I wish I was. Yet somehow I know I've got a lot of heavy lifting left to do before I can be the person he needs me to be.
I've betrayed his trust by deserting him once before. A wave of guilt crashes over me when I think about the devastating loss he suffered. And I let him go through it on his own. I can't do that to him again. So no matter what, I have to be upfront and honest with him about where I am in our relationship. About where I am in my relationship with myself. I glance up to see Josh's gaze trained on me. I look away. I have to tell him before I hurt him again.
I'll talk to him as soon as lunch is done. I hurry to scarf down my food and then run to brush my teeth before the afternoon. The tuna was delicious, but no one wants to be smelling it as our faces are close together, dancing in partner.
Coming down out of my room, I'm not surprised to see Josh waiting for me. Good. "I know we have to get back to rehearsal." I pull out my phone to see that it's almost two. I wish the hours of dancing and staging could fly by as quickly as the breaks do. "But can I say something?"
Josh nods, taking my hands in his. "Anything." He looks so hopeful.
"Josh, last night was great. It really was. And I've been thinking about it for ten years, so it says a lot that it lived up to the hype." I pause, thinking about it. "Actually, it exceeded it."
He smiles and leans in, giving me a slow, sensuous kiss that promises a lot more surpassed expectations. "I'm glad to hear it."
