Chapter 15 #2
The pianist begins playing the solo. Everyone in the room looks at one another. Finally, four brave souls run forward and attempt the steps. Tension eases. I watch as they light up and laugh at their mistakes and run off to the sides of the room when they’re done.
The next four women take their turns. My gaze turns toward the observation window. Sam reassures me again by mouthing, You’re doing brilliantly. Keep it up. Well, if there is one person I’m going to be flirting with, it’s him. I take my position on the outside of my group of four.
Making direct eye contact with him, I fan myself and dance the steps we’ve been taught. When everyone else runs off, I add an assemblé, leap with my arms over the head, then blow Sam a kiss.
“That was lovely. You’ve danced this before?” a woman with vibrant blue hair asks.
“A few times,” I admit.
The pianist continues to play, and we rotate through performing the intro once more. I change the position of my arms this go around, and school my face to make a few playful expressions toward Sam. I hope he’s enjoying the show.
The instructor claps her hands together.
“Wonderful energy. Next week, we’ll spend a little more time on the solo.
” Her eyes settle directly on me. “In the meantime, perhaps our newest class member would consider gracing us with a preview of what’s to come.
That is if you’re familiar with the variation. ”
Darn it, I’ve tried so hard to avoid attracting attention to myself until now. Why did I have to show off to Sam? I could say no, but a part of me is also dying to push my challenge line and see what I’m still capable of.
“Um, it’s been a long time since I’ve done it.” I hesitate, hoping she will leave me alone.
“But you do know it?”
I nod.
“Well, have at it.” She gestures to the center of the room. “The stage is yours.”
“Come on, you’ve got this,” someone shouts.
“You’ll do great,” another voice adds.
The ladies in the room begin to clap and cheer. There is no way of getting out of this. The power of peer pressure is too strong. I take a deep breath and walk to the corner of the room, locking eyes with the pianist and nodding. The opening notes play out, and I flutter forward.
The steps of the Kirti grand pas solo aren’t difficult, per se.
It’s portraying the character that’s the difficult bit.
Actually, I take that back. Depending on which choreography a dancer is doing, keeping up with the speed of the music and performing fast footwork can be challenging.
The Russians, for instance, are lightning fast, while the Westminster Ballet here in London goes at a more normal speed.
Tonight, I keep things simple. I opt for a few échappés, a one-and-a-half attitude pirouette, and an inside change-leg soutenu turn. Playing with the lightness of the ending steps, I add in one final pirouette and finish in arabesque.
There is a roaring sound of applause from both inside and out of the studio. Sam is on his feet, adding a piercing whistle. While I may be Kitri when I’m dancing, I’m her exact opposite when I’m off stage. My cheeks sear with heat and I fan myself.
“That was lovely. Well done, you,” the teacher says. “And on that note, we’ll end our class.”
We perform the traditional reverence and end the class.
Excited chatter breaks out and the other ladies in the room take a few moments to introduce themselves to me.
Each one expresses a sincere hope that I’ll be returning in the future.
My heart flutters in delight at the possibility of a new group of friends.
Ones who love ballet. I love Liz, but she’s not the type of person who likes going to the theatre.
“We’re all headed out to the Corgi and Crown pub across the way. We do it every Monday night. Would you care to join us?” a student in a Queen Mary uni hoodie asks.
“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass this time. I have someone waiting for me.”
She glances at Sam, who waves.
“Oh, he’s fit!” She adjusts her glasses. “He’s welcome to join us too.”
“We both have to get an early start in the morning, but maybe next time.”
“Of course, the invitation is standing.”
She waves goodbye. I take a moment to lean against the barre and work through my feet. The pointe shoes are stiff and pinching all my toes. I’d forgotten what it’s like to have to break in new shoes. Actually, I should probably get refitted by a professional. My feet may have even changed shape.
Sitting on the floor, I remove them and rotate my ankles. They’re an angry shade of cherry red, with a few indentations from the ribbons near my ankle. Next time I’ll make an effort to wear tights.
“I didn’t get your name when you came in.” I glance up at the teacher. “I’m Gladys.”
“Nice to meet you.” I wipe a hand against my leggings. “Minerva.”
“Your technique is brilliant. How long have you been out of dance? You must’ve danced professionally.” I’m impressed with what her eagle eyes have picked up.
“Four years, give or take. And yes, I did.”
“That long?” She cocks her head to the side.
“Yes.”
“Hmm . . . I was going to guess a year or so, perhaps. But not four years.”
“This was actually the first class I’ve taken since retiring.”
Gladys offers me a few pointers of where I should work on strengthening my body. We exchange a few more words, then part ways. I gather my remaining belongings and meet Sam in the lobby.
“Fashion Guru, you are full of hidden talents.” He wraps his hands around me and kisses me.
“Sorry, I’m all sweaty.”
“I work in a stable. Smell doesn’t bother me.” He lets out a throaty laugh. “But if it bothers you, maybe this will help.” Sam takes hold of my arm and slips a delicate purple-and-white camellia corsage onto my wrist. “There, perfect.”
Sam’s worked his magic on me again. He’s always managing to surprise me with a different type of flower every time we meet. I sniff the camellia. “Mmm . . . so good.”
“Did I do all right?”
“You did better than all right. I never got to go to anything like a prom or school dance. I always wondered what receiving one of these might be like. Now I know—it’s like being a princess.”
“That’s what I was gunning for.” I lace my fingers through his. We walk outside hand in hand. “You never got to go to a dance?”
“No. I missed out on a lot of things because of ballet. I was doing homeschool at the LABT academy by the time I was in high school.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No, I don’t. I mean, I do wish I’d gotten the chance to experience some of the things normal teenagers did, but I wouldn’t trade it for being able to dance professionally. I did have the chance to fulfill a lifelong dream, even if it was only for a short while.”
I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my life lately. As I have the opportunity to finally begin the process of healing my scars and wounds of the past, it's made me appreciate what I was able to achieve.
“Thank you for coming. I wouldn’t have had the courage to make it through tonight’s class without you pushing me. I didn’t know how much fun I’d have.”
“It was an eye-opening experience to be able to watch you. You’re so talented. You should be up on a stage performing with a company.”
“Maybe once upon a time, but that ship has sailed. I’ve moved on. Besides, I’m too old and I’ve been out too long. There are too many talented teens to compete against for too few jobs.”
“You’re only twenty-six. That’s not old.”
“It is in the ballet world. Younger is always better.” I squeeze his hand and rest my head on his shoulder. “But thank you for saying so.”
“Are careers really over that quickly?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Hearing that makes me worry about my sisters Sarah and Celine.” He sighs. “They both have big ambitions. Sarah dreams about going to the Olympics, then doing gymnastics at uni in America. Based on what her coaches are always saying, I think that dream could be well within her reach.”
“And Celine?” I ask.
“She’s been begging me to move her to a more serious dance school. She spoke about it the entire time she was here. She wants to dance professionally.”
“And what do your parents have to say about it?”
Sam shimmies uncomfortably. “They’re not in the picture. My sisters are my responsibility.”
I wince sharply. I couldn’t have asked a worse question. Things were going so well until now. “I’m sorry I said anything. Forget I asked.”