Chapter Twenty Allegra
Twenty
Allegra
I skip class the day after the wedding. I haven’t done that in I can’t remember how long. I’ve danced sick and hurt, the morning after a late night out and the day after getting dumped.
Somehow my conversation with Cord last night feels so much worse than any of that.
I’m glad he felt safe enough to open up to me and tell me about his past, though I think I will always wonder if he would have been so honest if my mother hadn’t found out what she did. I think there’s a small part of him that thought I might think less of him, but really, the opposite is true.
I like him more than I thought I did. But I still don’t care about him more than I care about my career.
I still can’t see a day when I care about any partner more than my career.
And so, despite the deep ache in my chest when I replay our conversation in my mind over and over, I know walking away now, before I’m in too deep, is the right thing to do.
Monday my phone rings minutes before my alarm is set to go off. I reach over to my nightstand, blindly grabbing for it, my brain barely able to distinguish between my ringtone and my alarm.
“Hello?” I don’t bother to check who’s calling before answering, assuming anyone who’s calling this early has a good reason.
“Allegra? Did I wake you?”
I sit up straight in bed the second David’s voice comes through the speaker. “Nope, I’m awake. Just doing some stretching and getting ready to go work out.” It’s only a partial lie, as that’s what I would be doing in a few minutes.
“Glad to hear it.” He clears his throat.
I hold my breath in anticipation, waiting for him to tell me why he’s calling.
He takes his time and I’m sure there’s a part of him that’s enjoying dragging this out. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m calling so early.”
Obviously.
“I wanted to be the first to congratulate you.”
I suck in a breath, not willing to celebrate before he’s said the exact words I’ve been longing to hear for most of my life.
“I’d like to offer you the role of Dominique. Assuming you’re still interested.”
Internally, I squeal, jumping up and down on my bed. Externally, I let myself grin, but I keep my tone cool. “I’m absolutely still interested. I would be honored to work with you on this piece and create this role.”
“I’m not going to lie, Allegra, I had my doubts. But you really sold it during your audition. I watched your body move in ways I didn’t think you were capable of.”
I know his words shouldn’t give me the ick, it’s his job to evaluate my body and the way it moves. Luckily, he can’t see my face and the way I blanch. “Thank you.” Not sure it was a compliment, really, but I go with it.
“Rehearsals will start next week and we should have a contract in your inbox by Friday.” He pauses. “I’m taking a chance on you, Allegra. And I don’t think I need to mention that earning this part is the first big step toward a permanent position as principal. Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t.”
David doesn’t say goodbye, the line just goes dead.
I check the screen, making sure he’s really off the line before I let myself freak out.
That internal celebration becomes external.
I leap on top of my bed, jumping around like a little kid, pumping my arms and squealing with excitement.
I flop back onto my bed and dig my phone out of the crumple of sheets, pulling up Cord’s contact info before I remember I can’t really call him.
We said we were going to take a couple days to figure things out, but if anything, getting this part maybe does the work for us. How can I call him to celebrate the thing that is sure to keep us apart?
I call my mom instead, still tucked under the sheets of my bed, and let her tears of joy bolster me further.
I want to call Bethany, but she left on her honeymoon this morning and I don’t want to interrupt her.
I text her instead, knowing she’ll be happy for me, but letting her respond on her own timeline.
I text Lucy too, and she responds with all the appropriate emojis.
The love from my circle feels good, but I can’t help but feel like the only person who would really understand what this means to me is the one person I can’t share the news with.
On Tuesday night, when I push through the door of Chloe’s studio, her eyes immediately widen.
She hesitates for only a moment before coming over and wrapping me in a hug. “Hi. I wasn’t sure I would see you again.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily. You did help change my life and all.”
Chloe pulls away, still holding me by the elbows. A slow smile spreads across her face, making her blue eyes—Cord’s blue eyes—sparkle. “Does that mean you got the part?”
I nod, still unable to fully believe it myself. “I got the part.”
She squeals so loud, the other dancers stretching turn to us in alarm. “I’m so proud of you, Allegra!”
Given everything I know now, her genuine excitement means even more.
She lowers her voice. “Does Cord know?”
I shake my head. “I’m assuming he told you about the wedding?” I wait for her to nod yes, though I know Cord would have told her everything by now. “I wasn’t sure if he would want to hear from me.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She gives my arm a squeeze. “Let’s talk after class, yeah?”
I spend the next forty-five minutes focusing on the freedom I feel when I’m spinning around the pole, the laughter and the comradery with the other people in the class. It’s another good reminder that dancing is supposed to be fun.
When the final member of class has said goodnight and the door has clicked shut, Chloe turns to me. “How are you feeling?”
“Right in this moment? Like my vagina is going to be sore tomorrow.”
She laughs at my deflection, but rolls her eyes, tugging on my arm so I’m forced to sit next to her on the floor, our backs pressed up against the mirror, legs splayed in front of us. We both instinctively point our toes.
I let the silence linger for a minute. “I’m so sorry about what happened to you, Chloe.”
She gives me a soft smile. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.”
“It can be really hard to realize that this thing we love so much also has the potential to do a lot of damage, not just to our bodies, but to our hearts and souls.”
I nod. It’s a realization every dancer comes to at some point in time. The quiet lingers between us for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt him,” I say softly.
She threads her arm through mine. “I know. And I’m not going to sit here and lie and say that that won’t happen.”
“So you think we should just call it now before the hurt gets worse?” I hold my breath, not sure what I want her answer to be.
“I didn’t say that. I can see how a relationship between the two of you would have its challenges.”
“But?”
“But I’ve never seen my brother happier than he has been over the past few weeks, the past couple days notwithstanding.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “I think that’s mostly because of you.”
My heart clenches with how badly I want that to be true. “Is there anything I can do, you think, to reassure him?”
“Just be there. Show up and don’t let him walk away because he’s scared of getting hurt.” She leans her head on my shoulder. “And know that he’s a bit of a stubborn bastard a lot of the time.”
I laugh. “How did you get to be so wise?”
“Years and years of therapy, my friend.”
Chloe’s words linger, but despite her claim that Cord and I could make it work, I don’t reach out to him.
Too scared of what might happen if I do, just as scared of what might happen if I don’t.
Instead of allowing myself to linger in the doubt, I turn all my focus and attention where it really needs to be: on this new ballet.
David’s hands circle my waist, drawing me closer to his body.
He presses close against me, his chest to my back, so close his breath warms the nape of my already sweaty neck.
He holds me for longer than he should need to before he demonstrates the next step and lets Sam, the dancer playing my lover in the new ballet, step into his place.
We’ve been in rehearsals for about a week, and it’s been nothing like I expected and also exactly what I expected.
Gone is the express request to put hands on my body; David uses me like a doll, posing me, moving my limbs however he sees fit.
He takes his time with me, showing Sam exactly what he wants.
Sam is nice, and a good partner, but he dances with me the same way David choreographs me—like he owns me.
I don’t miss the way David’s hands often linger, often drift.
I miss dancing with Cord.
It’s not a thought I ever expected to have weeks ago, and yet it crosses my mind at least once during every rehearsal.
I haven’t spoken to him since the night of the wedding. Haven’t spoken to Chloe since that night at the studio. Bethany is still on her honeymoon, and since we aren’t rehearsing with the corps yet, my ballet days are often spent with just David and Sam, sometimes joined by the other soloists.
It’s not the first time I’ve felt lonely in my adult life, but the isolation is almost overwhelming, suffocating, to the point where I come home from the studio and just sit and stare into space. Not even the Real Housewives can drag me out of this funk.
Lucy watches me with concern as I change out of my company class shoes and switch to my rehearsal shoes two weeks after landing the part of my dreams. Company class is the one time of day I can count on being surrounded by other people, but it doesn’t do much to assuage the loneliness that engulfs me the rest of the day.
“How is everything going with the new ballet? I’m looking forward to working on the new choreo,” she says, her eyes scrutinizing me in a way that would make me uncomfortable if my brain was working correctly these days.
“It’s good. I think it’s going to be really interesting.”
“Is it everything you thought it would be?”