Chapter 5
SONYA
I knew it was a bad idea to come to a party after avoiding them for so long, but when it’s one celebrating your only best friend, you have no choice.
At least I’m hiding inside a walk-in pantry, and it has snacks.
And no people.
That’s the best part, because some days I hate everyone. And other days, I still hate everyone.
The doorknob turns and I stiffen—until my pink-haired best friend pops her head in. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding, Sonya.”
“I’m not hiding,” I argue. “I was biding my time until…”
“The party ends?” she finishes, giving me a knowing smile. Kavi comes inside and shuts the door behind her. “That bad?”
I can’t help but wince, because technically it’s her party at the penthouse apartment that she shares with her husband, Dmitri. It’s a post-wedding celebration that I helped plan with her, and hung up decorations for this morning.
“No, it’s not.” I loosen my arms that were crossed. “I swear…it’s great…”
Laughter reaches our ears. Beyond this door is a kitchen, living room, and dining room packed with people.
Every player from the Wings is here, and some of Kavi and Dmitri’s family members, plus local artists because Kavi is incredible and hosts weekly meet-ups connecting the creative community together at her own photography studio.
I remember when we first met, she suffered from a lot of shyness and imposter syndrome. Seeing her flourish and build a whole network of support these last few years, I’m so proud of her.
A muscle in my jaw ticks. I exhale and lengthen my spine, because I’m being a shitty friend. At the very least, I could paste on a smile.
Okay, I won’t smile. Because I never do.
But I’m capable of mingling and standing by her side like a powerful, unapproachable shadow, radiating support quietly, dressed in my black sheath dress and leather boots.
I reach for the door.
My eyes widen, because Kavi blocks me.
“We can stay in here together for a few more minutes,” she offers.
I slump back against the wall. “I mean, if you want to…”
She gives me a long, amused stare.
The corner of my frown lifts slightly. “For the record, I’m not antisocial. I’m just socially selective.”
Kavi snickers. “Thank you for explaining what I already know.”
“Always.” I pause, before adding, “When it’s just you and me, it’s easy.”
Kavi squeezes my arm and smiles. “And Quinn? He’s here. He’d hide with you, too.”
I rub the underside of my elbow. “Yeah…okay. Him, too.”
Nobody else, though. Unlike Kavi, the people I’d consider important couldn’t fill my home up. Granted, unlike Kavi and Dmitri who live in a sweeping penthouse, I have and adore my little studio apartment.
But, still.
I’m a woman with one best friend. Other than that, the only person left in my life from my past is my brother Quinn. For a brief nine months we shared the same foster family when we were kids, then he left me. Or, I guess, he had to leave.
I thought I’d never see him again, but then right before my twentieth birthday, he found me online. At first I ignored him and pretended that he didn’t matter, that the promises we made as kids to be forever siblings were meaningless.
But he kept reaching out, asking me if I needed anything and letting me know he was there for me. I cracked. A bit.
I started writing back to Quinn.
His response was immediate, and his replies were so respectful and patient. He revealed what had happened to him after he left, and because he had valid reasons about why it took him so long to reconnect, I gradually let him back into my life.
Now we support each other when we can. In my mind, it’s cool and a bonus when it happens, but for him? Whenever his professional hockey career allows for time off, he invites me over.
I can’t and don’t always say yes.
Ballet keeps me pretty busy, and that’s how I like it.
Outside of this pantry, there’s way more noise. Kavi and I turn our heads towards the door. Someone must’ve told a hilarious joke, the way the laughter just spiked.
“That’s probably Adrian…” Kavi sneaks a glance at me. “He was looking around for a while, you know. Almost as if he was looking for a certain someone to see if she was here.”
Her eyebrows waggle.
I scowl. “Did you tell him I was coming to this party?”
“No, but I bet he’d love to spend some time with you.”
I snort. “Guess what I overheard earlier? A group of rookies talking by the bar cart. Apparently he’s taking them out clubbing after this. I think that’s where Adrian Hughes’ priorities are tonight.” I roll my eyes and mutter under my breath, “Fuckboy.”
“There’s more to him than you think, Sonya.”
I shake my head. “We’re completely different people.”
He doesn’t really know me. Not in any real way. He flirts because I resist him, and that eggs him on. That’s what this is to someone like Hughes. A game. He can toss all the pucks he wants at me. Just like Quinn, I’m sending them back.
If I ever actually open up, if I didn’t roll my eyes or walk away, he’d lose interest in a heartbeat. Because the truth is, what he wants? It’s not me.
He’s better off with someone who matches him. Someone bright, loud, easy.
I am not that woman. I never will be.
And he’s going to figure that out sooner or later.
Not that I’m giving him the chance to. I don’t flirt back.
I don’t indulge him. I don’t even acknowledge half of what he says to me.
Because it’s not real. It’s nothing. Just another passing impulse for Adrian Hughes, who changes women like he changes socks.
He’s a known playboy around the city, committed to the shortest flings his famous hockey-star lifestyle will allow. Obsessed with hooking up and moving on.
Me? I don’t do intimacy, period.
It goes back to the fact that I dislike most people. I don’t trust easily, and I don’t let people in. Also, let’s be honest, I don’t have time for anything else. My dancing comes first.
I make my nails dig into my palms. Not that I need to justify anything to myself in my own head.
I get off the wall and square my shoulders.
“You should go back out there,” I tell Kavi. “And if it’s okay…I might sneak out? Not that I’m not really happy for you. You know, I am. It’s—”
I suck at words, so how do I explain this properly? How outside this door, Kavi is going to walk into a life rich with accomplishments and milestones she’s passed.
Compared to that, I need to leave early to practice alone at a dance studio.
Standing in this shadowed pantry, I look down at my skin. How often do you see a brown woman in ballet? Barely at all, which means I have to work that much harder to be noticed.
That means I need to leave now and keep working towards making that happen.
Turns out I don’t need to say any of that to Kavi. She understands and hugs me. “Promise you won’t overwhelm yourself, okay? You know I worry.”
“I won’t,” I say, knowing I’m lying to my best friend. The only way to get what I want is to overwhelm myself. I have to eat, sleep, breathe ballet, even more than I already do.
Starting now.
Kavi goes back to her party, and I leave the pantry a few minutes later. On my way out the door, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder.
My brain melts.
Fuck.
I did not need to see that man dressed up in a black, close-fitted suit. A few strands of his blonde hair have fallen over his forehead. The length curls underneath his ears, styled yet nonchalant enough to be a little messy.
I hold my breath.
His crisp blue eyes are sweeping around, as if he really is looking for someone.
The back of my neck gets goosebumps.
Could it be me?
No.
Adrian has his reputation for a reason. Whatever he’s doing, it has nothing to do with me.
But then our eyes meet, and he stills entirely.
We keep looking at each other, and I feel this impact in the center of my chest. It grows and grows, as if I’m on the verge of losing my balance.
He’s not even touching me. He’s across the room.
Unlike that night at Quinn’s when our hands touched over cards, and that nothing bit of contact hit me like a lightning strike.
I ran.
I have the overwhelming urge to do the same thing now, and I don’t completely understand why.
My pulse kicks up, and I hate this feeling. The lack of control, of knowing exactly what comes next.
And I despise that, because uncertainty is something I refuse to experience again. I’ve had enough of that when I was a foster kid.
I swore I’d never go back to that.
I need to stay in charge of my life now.
To follow the plan that I’ve set out for myself.
Across the room, Adrian swallows. Then he grins, cocking his eyebrow as if having finally recovered. He’s coming this way, and that’s when I whip around and force myself to leave.
I don’t look back.
I can’t.
Because I’ve worked too hard to set up what happens next in my life.
For so many years, I’ve fought my way out of the corps de ballet, out of being another nameless ensemble dancer, to finally eking out a soloist contract.
Now, I have to make history. I have to be the first South Asian ballerina promoted to principal, the highest rank a dancer can get.
That’s my dream.
The one that gives me purpose.
For that reason, I’m telling myself to stay away from Hughes, as much as I possibly can. I’ll see Kavi and Quinn separately, but if the hockey captain ever shows up, I won’t be sticking around.