“You two look so nice tonight,” Edith says as soon as we get to the top of the steps. “Perfect little gentlemen.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Covey says, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. I didn’t let myself really look at him downstairs, afraid of him seeing through me, but now, I can’t help but take in his sophisticated look. His suit is worth at least three times what mine is and tailored to fit his body perfectly. Not as good as those dance tights, but it shows off his muscles in a way I didn’t know a suit could.
“Why don’t you go get some champagne and cake. Then you can look around and see if there’s anything you want to bid on.” I can’t imagine my teacher’s salary allows me the chance to win anything in a silent auction, but I’m not about to turn down champagne. I promised myself I wouldn’t have more than two drinks tonight, afraid loose lips will get me into trouble.
“Thanks, Mom.” Covey tugs at my arm and leads me toward a table with a tower of coupes, all barely managing to stay standing. It’s the kind of thing that looks pretty, but probably shouldn’t be anywhere near drunk people.
Covey grabs one of the glasses and hands it to me before getting one for himself. “I can finally have a drink,” he says, holding his glass up near mine. I clink them together before downing half of mine in one go.
This is quite a sendoff for our fake relationship. A formal affair full of people wearing black suits and gowns, almost like they’ve come to the funeral for our short-lived experiment. We walk around silently. Every time I attempt to come up with something to say, I find myself biting my lips, physically forcing myself to stay quiet. There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t find the words.
“Hey, I see the Executive Director for GMBC. Is it okay if I go say hi?”
“Of course.” Honestly, a few minutes by myself sounds pretty good.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” I say, but he’s already halfway across the room.“I’ll be here, staring at… this.” I’m not sure what it is, but the mix of colors and shapes makes me a little dizzy. I appreciate art as much as anyone, but I swear I don’t get it. Doesn’t matter if it’s the finger paintings of my students or fine art, my response is pretty much always the same. I shiver a little before moving on to the next one, hoping maybe something will finally snap into place.
COVEY
“Hello, Rupert,” I say. I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew at the event. Most of my dance friends are sleeping, finally getting a night to themselves. That or they’ve snuck away fora few days of vacation. Honestly, I’d rather be home in my bed, even though I know I’d never be able to sleep. I’d likely be staring at the ceiling, replaying the last few months, figuring out where things went wrong.
“Mr. Gallagher, what a pleasant surprise.” His British accent is particularly strong, probably because of the champagne. Even the executive director deserves a night off after the last month. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“My mom is on the Board. She roped me into it.”
He nods knowingly. “How are you enjoying Burlington? You’re originally from here, correct?”
“Yes, sir.” Even outside the ballet studio, I feel unimportant next to him. “I love being back in Vermont. Everyone at Green Mountain Ballet has been incredible, which helps.” That had been my biggest concern when I moved back. I wanted to be close to family and an area I love, but that isn’t enough. I worked so long to get to a point in my career where I could dance professionally; I couldn’t pass up good opportunities. Especially knowing my years in this career are limited. If I’m lucky, I’ve probably got another five or six years before I start thinking about retirement.
“And what about that man over there? The one that keeps glancing at you?” I crane my neck to see where he’s looking. My gaze lands on Aidan right as he turns away to examine a statue.
“Oh, um, he’s… a friend.” I know it’s the truth, but it feels like a lie as it passes over my lips.
“I see.” Rupert bites his lower lip. It’s the same mannerism he uses in the studio before he tells us exactly what we’re doing wrong. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt your evening too much. I’m here with my…friend.” As if on a cue, another man kisses him on the lips and hands him a new champagne coupe.
“Hello,” the newcomer says, extending his hand. “I’m Skye, Rupert’s husband.”
“Covey.” I shake his hand the best I can while we both balance our glasses.
“Covey is one of our newer dancers,” Rupert adds.
“Nice to meet you,” Skye says. “I was coming to fetch my husband. He’s needed for one of the items.”
Rupert sighs, but nods his head. “You and your friend enjoy the evening.”
I relax once they’re out of sight. Rupert is nicer than 90% of the administrators I’ve met over the years, but he still makes my heart beat a little faster. I look around to see where Aidan’s ended up, but I don’t see him anywhere. Instead, I find myself face-to-face with my mother.
“What was that about?” she asks.
“Just saying hello to someone.” I don’t have the patience to give her a full explanation. Not tonight.
“Why would you call Aidan your friend?” This whole lie started as a way to get through the holiday events. We got so close, but I can see the end beginning to unravel.
“Well, I…” Honestly, I can’t think of anything else to say. I’m out of good ideas, out of lies, and out of energy for this rouse. “He’s my friend, Mom. We aren’t… we aren’t dating. We made it up.”
“Well, I don’t buy that for one minute.”
