The second woman only grows more hostile. “What brings you to Haven, of all places?”
“I heard there were a couple of rising stars in Haven’s ballet program. Thought I’d pop by and have a look for myself.” I tip my chin in Eve’s direction. “I’ve got on my eyes on her specifically.”
Pinched Face does a double take, looking Eve over again as she finishes what I assume is a plié. “Why her?”
“She’s clearly got more experience. Just look at her form. Everybody else looks like they’d crack under pressure if you gave them a role.”
“You don’t know her,” she retorts. “There’s got to be a reason she’s here and not in a ballet company already.”
I click my tongue. I really don’t like how this woman talks about Eve. Everything about her screams judgmental has-been.
“You don’t know her either. I hear she’s in Haven to help out her dear old mother.”
Pinched Face’s friend coos. “That’s so sweet.”
Back on the dance floor, Miss Helen claps her hands, and the music comes to a stop. She once again takes up her spot at the front of the class, facing her students.
“Let’s move on, please. Make some space, make some space. Two piqué turns, soutenu, soutenu, pas de bourrée straight forward, preparation for pirouette. Give me four fouettés, stick to the beat of the music. Double the fourth if you’d like, add a bit of flair to keep it interesting. Four-count chaines, step, and then tendu.”
I’m only able to pick up on pirouette and tendu. How Eve is able to remember everything is beyond me.
The groups cycle through, every dancer moving to the flow of the piano notes.
I’ve only got eyes for Eve.
It’s like watching water gliding over rocks. Eve is serene when others are barely managing to keep up. The tempo’s a little faster, but I don’t think she’s even broken a sweat yet. Unlike her peers, there isn’t any strain in her facial expression. In fact, she’s smiling.
Miss Helen nods her head in approval. “Well done, Eve. Very beautiful.”
I smile like I’m the one who just got complimented.
That’s my girl.
“Now that you mention it,” the first recruiter mumbles under her breath, “she’s got excellent control. I like how she presents her feet.”
Pinched Face nods slowly. “I guess she’s got good flexibility. For her age.”
“Put her down on our shortlist. We’ll have to get to her before someone else snaps her up.”
I grin to myself, a sense of accomplishment washing over me. I don’t know shit about how the dance world works, but I know it’s competitive. I’m happy that I’m able to help Eve in some small way.
She’s clearly got the talent, the drive. The fact that she actually loves what she does is a bonus. To see her smiling, even through exhaustion and pain—it’s really something special. I hope Eve gets into a ballet company, wherever it may be.
A weird sensation knots itself in my guts.
Do I mean that?
What if Eve accepts a position somewhere far away? In another city, in another state, in another country? She could end up anywhere once she’s fully recovered.
I don’t know why the thought of her leaving bothers me so much. It gnaws at the back of my throat, leaves an odd pressure choking at my windpipe.
I should be happy for her. She’s clearly worked hard to get where she is, so it makes sense that she deserves the best.
Even if our paths never cross again.
Chapter Twelve
Eve
By the time class is over, my legs are killing me. The pain isn’t as bad is it normally is, though.
Thank god for Advil Extra Strength.
I pick up my water bottle from the bleachers to take a much needed drink. As I tilt my head back, I happen to catch a glimpse of a familiar handsome face smiling at me. I can tell a few of the younger ballerinas are eying him. I don’t exactly blame them. Nate really does have an eye-catching quality to him, an air of charisma.
I’m not going to lie. The way the other girls look at him…
It makes me jealous.
Nate stands and moves like he’s about to come on down the bleachers, like he’s on the way to come speak to me.
Before he does, someone taps me on the shoulder from behind.
I turn to find Tom standing there, a big, goofy smile on his face.
“Great class, huh?” he asks. He’s still a little out of breath, his cheeks red from the workout we just completed. There’s a shiny layer of sweat dripping from his brow, dampening his locks at the sides of his face.
“Uh, yeah. Pretty good,” I say.
“I think you made a pretty good impression on those recruiters.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Recruiters were here? Why didn’t anybody tell me?”
A sudden worry weighs down on my shoulders, threatens to crush me right into the floor. If I’d known they would be here today, I would have worked three times as hard to make sure I was perfect.