The bathroom door swung open and Nevio stepped in, messy bed-hair and only in low hanging boxers. He paused with a coffee cup against his lips, eyes narrowing when he saw Aurora beside me. “Girl talk?”
He handed me another cup of coffee and as he bent over me, I caught Aurora checking him out with a look in her eyes I finally understood. It had never quite made sense to me, but since I’d met Amo I could feel it deep in my belly. Our eyes met briefly and she jerked to her feet and almost knocked Nevio’s cup out of his hand. Some of the hot liquid spilled on his naked chest and boxers, causing him to hiss. “I’m not into fire play,” he snarled. I didn’t understand, neither did Aurora from the look of it. She grabbed a towel from the floor and awkwardly patted Nevio’s chest then seemed to think better of it and thrust it at him, her head turning a deep red. He caught it with cocked eyebrows.
Aurora looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown. Anxiety was something I was intimately familiar with so I recognized it immediately.
“Can you give us privacy?” I asked my brother.
He seemed taken aback. I never did girls talks. He shrugged. “Sure. Come over later.” With another skeptical look at Aurora, he turned to the door.
“Happy birthday!” Aurora practically screamed at him.
One corner of his mouth lifted in a dubious smile. “Thanks, Rory.” He reached out and ruffled her blond hair, then he left.
Aurora stared at the closed door, her lower lip trembling.
“You okay?” I asked carefully. I could see that she wasn’t.
“No,” she said miserably and sank back down beside me. She covered her face and I worried she’d start crying. I wouldn’t know what to do then. Maybe call Kiara. Instead of crying, she let out a muffled scream against her palms then peeked at me through the gaps between her fingers. Her blue eyes were moist but she wasn’t crying. “Why do I act so stupid around him?”
I didn’t have an answer to her question. She had definitely acted very curiously.
“Maybe because you are in love with him?” I suggested.
The color drained from Aurora’s face. “Shhhh. I don’t want him to know!”
I wouldn’t have been surprised if he did know. Nevio was better at reading people than me. Even if he didn’t care about their emotions, he filed them away in case he needed them. He probably just chose to ignore Aurora’s crush because he wasn’t interested in her for various reasons and out of respect for Fabiano.
I had never talked about Aurora to him.
“Don’t tell him, okay? I swear I won’t tell anyone about Amo, but please don’t say anything to anyone about Nevio.”
“Okay.” I wouldn’t have told anyone anyway. Aurora’s emotional state was her personal affair, not anyone’s business. Her feelings for Nevio didn’t hurt anyone.
My feelings for Amo? They had the potential to leave behind wreckage. And yet, I’d go to New York in a week to see him.
My heart beat frantically, the noises around me pulsating in my head, whooshing in my ears, chasing my pulse. Then the first cords filled the theater and I briefly closed my eyes. I lost myself to the music, to the feel of the stage beneath my feet. I breathed in the warm air, let it fill me with purpose. The rattling of the Metro and the honking of the taxis soon faded to the background. I forgot about the many judgmental looks that wanted to take apart every move until all that made this so beautiful was washed away.
I’d danced Giselle Act 1 Variation countless times. It was one of my absolute favorite ballets but I’d never felt it as deeply as I did today. The deep infatuation of Giselle, her happiness when she was with Albrecht. Then later when the harsh truth burst through the heroine’s bubble of innocence, her franticness in every twirl and jump as she realized the hopelessness of her love.
On the last accord of the piece I stopped, my breathing fast but at the same time I felt beautifully calm.
I opened my eyes, taking in my surroundings, and noticed someone in one of the back rows. No one ever sat there during rehearsals. The trainers and my fellow dancers either watched from the front row or from backstage.
Heat filled my cheeks and my belly. In my mind I’d danced for him without even knowing he was there.
Amo sat in the second to last row, shrouded in shadows so I couldn’t see his expression. My heart jolted, filling with a longing I could hardly explain. The teacher clapped her hands once, ripping me from the moment.
I turned to her. She motioned a boy called Mika forward. He was a couple of years younger than me. Tension filled my body. Dancing with others was and had always been the hurdle I had trouble jumping over. It was what was holding me back, why I preferred to dance alone at night, even if my old teacher had once said I was wasting a precious talent.
But if I wanted any chance at becoming part of this ballet program, I’d have to dance with a partner. It was why I’d originally intended to cancel this rehearsal and when I’d flown to New York, I’d still been convinced I wouldn’t dance at all, only try to meet with Amo. I hadn’t known he’d come here. He hadn’t contacted me since our phone call but I’d known he’d find a way to see me. I’d had absolute faith.
But now as I stood on stage, I wanted to give it my all, even if it required a major mental effort. I knew why Nevio and Dad had allowed me to come here. Because they knew I’d never make the program. Nevio knew me better than I knew myself, every fear and every longing.
I knew his darkness and he knew mine.
Mika held out his hand, palm upward, his expression focused, barely taking me in. I hesitated. After almost a minute, his expression became confused. I forced my arm to move until my hand rested on his. His skin was too warm and clammy. The floor pressed too hard against my soles and the AC whistled in my ears. The smell of sweat and dust and old rubber clogged my nose. My heart and pulse pounded too loudly.
I swallowed and even that sound rang too loud in my ears.