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“Gladly.”
* * *
I’ll confess I’m more than a little distracted during rehearsal. I’m supposed to be perfecting the pas de deux with my dance partner, Ilya, who plays the prince, but all I can really think about is Leo.
Whenever Ilya takes my hand, I imagine it’s him instead. I imagine Leo lifting me, spinning me, supporting me while I’m up on pointe. I imagine Leo when I’m trying to find a spot on the opposite wall to keep from getting dizzy.
My fantasies are always short-lived, however, because my mother is dead set on yelling at me for even the slightest of mistakes.
“Keep your spins tighter,” Inessa instructs. “Pull up more. Your posture is atrocious today, Nikita.”
All morning it’s been a non-stop barrage of criticism and judgmental side eyes. I’m normally pretty good at keeping my frustration in check, but I can’t go five seconds without my mother pointing out something I’m doing wrong. I swear I’m not that bad. I’m a skilled dancer, a professional. But with the way she’s coming after me, I’m starting to wonder if I’m delusional. Her harsh words have begun to chip away at my thick skin, allowing for the doubts to creep in and take root in my mind.
When the music finally comes to a stop, Inessa claps her hands twice. Sharp like the crack of lightning. “Enough,” she says with an irritable sigh. “Just stop. Nikita, come here.”
I am more than a little aware of all the stares and whispering from my fellow dancers. I try not to pay them any mind, ignoring the cold lump lodged at the back of my throat. They’re talking about me. I know they are. Will I make everything ten times worse if I try to address it?
“Where were you last night?” my mother asks me under her breath. “You didn’t come home. I had half a mind to call the police and report you missing.”
“I was just—”
“You were out withhim, weren’t you?”
The accusatory nature of her tone unsettles me. “So what if I was?”
Inessa hits me with a hard glare. “Nikita, how many times do I have to tell you? That man is—”
“Stop it,” I snap. “I don’t know what your problem with Leo is, but he’s been nothing but kind to me. You’re judging a book by its cover.”
“He’s not a book. With people, you can always tell.”
“I’m not talking about this with you. I’m an adult, Mother. I’m allowed to see who I want to see. I’m allowed a fucking life!”
I stomp off to a different corner of the practice room where I placed my gym bag aside, refusing to listen to another word. It’s time for the other dancers to practice, and I frankly need a well-deserved break. I’m probably going to pay for that little outburst later.
Kseniya is the only person to join me, helpfully handing me a water bottle and a protein bar to snack on. She wears a bright, sweet smile. “That was gorgeous.”
I let out a deep, weary exhale. “Thanks. It seems like you might be the only one who thinks so.”
“Are you kidding? That was nothing short of perfect. You’re a huge inspiration to me. Hopefully I can dance as well as you one day.”
Her words make me feel warm and tingly. After an entire session of being berated by my mother, her kindness is exactly what I need. Unfortunately, the feeling is short-lived when I notice all the people staring at me like I have a second head.
“Do you think she did it?” someone whispers.
“She couldn’t earn the promotion on her own, so she had to resort to dirty tactics. It just makes sense.”
“She doesn’t strike me as someone who could stoop that low.”
“Shhh… Quiet, she’ll hear you.”
Kseniya pats me on the shoulder. “Ignore them. They just like to talk.”
It’s hard for me to not feel vulnerable, to ignore all the gossip. It’s frankly enough to make me feel a little crazy. I would never hurt Vanya, or anyone else, for that matter.
“You don’t believe it, do you?” I ask her.
“Of course not! Don’t you pay attention to them. Just stay focused and in your lane. They can talk until they’re blue in the face. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re a brilliant dancer.”
