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“I’m not a neanderthal. I know to turn my phone off.” I discreetly pull my cell out and silence it.
I’ve never been one to watch musicals or gush over artsy things. I can appreciate the demanding work performers put in, but enjoying the performances like a connoisseur enjoys wine? I don’t get it. Maybe it’s resentment from all those years spent dragged around to dance events with Willa.
I learn quickly that musicals are not my jam, but Nova’s face glows brighter with every new song and dance. She’s so engrossed she doesn’t notice my staring. And she makes it impossible to look away. Never have I met a girl like Nova, who can take it and dish it with the best of them. What was Willa thinking? It’s like she wanted me to be tormented by a beautiful girl I can’t have. I’m surprised I haven’t heard from my sister yet, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.
We get through the musical, and the show’s not half bad. Would I choose to come on my own? Hell no. But I didn’t hate it. Granted, I spent a good portion of it watching Nova enjoy herself, which was half of my entertainment.
As we file out of our row, an usher stops us. “Nova Pratt?”
With mild hesitation, she says, “Yes?”
“Ms. Rianne asked me to pass this along to you.”
When he steps to the side, Nova opens a note. “It’s from one of my mom’s old friends. She’s who got us these tickets, and she’s invited us to meet with her.”
I follow Nova’s lead through the crowd, and we’re ushered backstage with a small group of people. Seeing the production’s inner workings might be more incredible than seeing what was on stage. I’m taking it all in when Nova gasps, rushing toward a brunette in full theater makeup who’s waving us down. She pulls Nova into her arms, gushing over how grown up she is.
“The show was incredible, Rianne. Thank you for the perfect tickets.”
“Not a problem at all, not for my girl, Ruby’s, daughter. And you must be Nova’s travel buddy.” I toss a wave, then she’s back to squeezing Nova’s shoulders. “I’m so happy I had time to see you tonight. How is your mom?”
“She’s good, busy running the dance academy.”
“Of course she is. You can take the girl out of Broadway, but you can’t take Broadway out of the girl. Man, I miss her, but quitting and having you was the best thing she could’ve done. Look at you, beautiful girl. You’ve grown so much since I saw you last.”
Nova’s smile isn’t like the others I’ve seen today. It’s strained, not quite reaching her eyes.
“And you got into Berkeley. I’m so proud.”
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal.”
“Oh, don’t be so modest. I’ve heard about your talent. Plus, you practically help run that studio with your mom.”
An uncomfortable laugh leaves Nova, but she smiles even wider. Pulling out her cell phone, we take a few pictures before someone taps Rianne on the shoulder and whispers a message. With a nod, she returns her attention to us.
“Well, I’ll let you two get on with your night. I need to make the Meet and Greet rounds.” She tugs Nova in for a tight hug. “Tell your mom and dad hi for me, will you?”
“Of course.”
The walk back to the hotel is quiet, aside from the city traffic and pedestrians. I half-expected Nova to be impossible to shut up while she raved about the show, but she remains tight-lipped.
Once we’re in the hotel elevator, I can’t take the silence any longer. “So, your mom was on Broadway?”
“From college until me.” Her stare stays focused on the closed mirrored doors.
One would think that’d be something to brag about, but Nova’s voice has an odd hitch.
“That’s cool. And you want to be a dancer, too? Perform in shows like the one we saw tonight?”
“That’s what I’m going to school for.”
I tilt my head, angling in her face so she’ll look me in the eyes. “Not what I asked.”
“Maybe?” With a shrug, her gaze drifts to me. “I don’t know. I think I’d rather work creatively behind the scenes. Do choreography and stage shows. My entire life has revolved around dance.”
“Are you any good?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty decent.” There isn’t an ounce of bragging in her tone, just the truth as she fiddles with her bracelet, spinning the charm around her wrist. “Now, ask me if I love it.”
