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But I guess things are effortless when you're soulmates.
"Have you figured out what school you're planning to go to yet? You can still come with me to Madison."
I shake my head. "I'm still hoping for Julliard. You know that's my goal."
She frowns. "New York, though? That's halfway across the country. What am I going to do without you?"
I smile. "I'll come home. My parents won’t let me stay away for long. And you can always come out to visit." I shake my head. "You don't have to even worry about that. We still have senior year before anything is set in stone."
"What do you think Roman's going to do?"
Those words make my stomach flop. It's been a taboo question that I haven't wanted to think about. One both Roman and I haven't brought up at all. I really hope it's because he plans to stick around until I'm done with school, and not because he has some plan I don't know about churning in the background.
But he wouldn't do that to me, right?
I couldn't imagine he would. The thought of being without him fractures my heart to no end. Being with him is like breathing, being without him would steal my breath and heart. Living would be impossible.
Everyone starts cheering in the little coffee shop turned concert. They have Thursday and Saturday night bands play, and since our town is so small, Roman's is usually the only band that performs.
Doesn't bother anyone much. They're so good at this point they could be famous. People from different towns come to see Roman and his band play.
Cataclysm.
Roman’s band’s name.
Everyone stands up, cheering and whistling. For the first time since his song started, Roman looks directly out at my usual table, locking eyes with mine. He smiles, and I smile back. He sets his guitar in his stand and gives his friends a nod before bending down, pressing his hands against the stage as he hops off, walking over to me.
Planting a wet kiss on me, he smiles. "What'd you think?"
"As always, perfection." I smile against his mouth, tasting the saltiness of his sweat as I lick my lips.
"Ready to go?" His fingers go to the ballet slippers around my neck. Ever since we started dating, Roman has been bringing me to ballet. He stays if he can, watching me dance and practice until my toes are bloody and bruised, and then he brings me home, lying with me and my tired body until I'm asleep.
"Ready." I grab my bag with my leotard and slippers. Sliding my fingers through Roman's, we walk out the door together and down the street toward the dance studio. The evening is quiet, only a few locals walking in and out of the shops. I can see the sun setting over by the park, the red sun lighting up the metal swing set. Inhaling deeply, I smell the familiar cornfield and beachy lake only blocks away.
"You can just drop me off if you need to go back there and grab your things."
He shakes his head. "We can stop there afterward. The guys will pack everything up so all I'll need to do is grab everything."
I nod, and we walk quietly through the evening spring air. Soon we're there, and I use the key from my purse to unlock the door.
My teacher, Leona Ivanov, used to be a famous ballet teacher in New York at Julliard. But her sick mother eventually led her to moving out here, and she's been my teacher ever since. I was little when I met her, only a short while after I moved here. She's always been the teacher that has me practice rigorously. She even prefers I go when no one else is there to stay focused and get my work in. I think she's even more determined than I am that I need to get into Julliard.
Roman turns on the lights and goes to sit in his usual booth that's built onto the wall. I go into the back, getting dressed quickly. I put my hair into a knot on the top of my head, and walk out barefoot, the ribbons of my ballet slippers wrapped around my fingers.
My feet slapping again the wooden floor make Roman glance up. He smiles when he sees me, patting the spot next to him when he sees my bare feet.
I hand him a slipper when I get to him, propping my foot up on his lap. He slides the slipper on, having watched me since I was a child, he knows exactly what to do. He replicates my movements that I'm doing with the opposite foot, crisscrossing the ribbons over my foot until it’s at the back of my calf, and then he ties a perfect bow.
I smile at him when its finished, knowing its perfect, maybe even more perfect than the one I did, only because he did it himself.
"What're we listening to today?" he asks, the CD player next to him with a stack of CDs on the floor.
"Mmmm. You choose today."
I've practiced with every type of music. From rock that Roman listens to, to folk that my parents listen to, to classical that I've grown up on while dancing to ballet. I can dance to anything and everything.
But classical is always my favorite.
