“Yes,” I barely get out. And just like that, I’m back.
23.
Gigi
A WEEK AFTER THE Swan Lake auditions, we’re in the lobby after ballet class, waiting for the revelation of the cast list. Parents shuffle in through the doors. A heavy snow starts to fall outside the windows. The wind slams up against the panes. It feels like last year. Except this time I revel in the whispers. My name is whispered alongside Odette and Odile. It gets louder and louder, like the crescendo in a wave or orchestra music. It’s all I can hear as the teachers start to file in. It’s all I can think about. How different it will be. How rare it is—nearly impossible—for dancers of color to earn the lead in the “white” ballets dependent on the ballet blanc. How I’ll be the first one at the conservatory if I’m picked.
I look for Will and spot him near the front desk. His back is to the crowd, and even from here I can tell he’s tense. I wave my hand in the air, hoping he’ll turn around and come to where I’m standing. I’ve carved out a little spot with my dance bag plopped on the floor.
Alec is to my far right. I can hear him talking to the boys, saying, “May the best Siegfried win.” Each word seems to hit me, makes me miss him, the warmth and safety of his arms wrapped around me, having someone to share this moment with.
Eleanor is the only one of us sitting on the floor. She’s stretching with her eyes closed and her lips mumbling. June is somewhere behind me, but I don’t want to turn and look. All I think about when I see her are my butterflies and cutting her hair. A knot twists in my stomach just thinking about it. I remind myself that she deserved it. I remind myself that her hair is already growing back, so it’s fine.
Cassie comes up. “You ready?”
“Yes.”
“This is it.” It’s weird talking to Cassie about everything. In the few months she’s been here, she’s really been a friend to me. But in this moment, as much as we’d like not to think about it, we’re competitors. Still, I tell myself, it’s good to know that there’s someone in this cutthroat world that I can just relax with, trust a little. I still haven’t worked up the courage to bring up what she had me do to Eleanor with the hummus. I’d rather not lose her.
The next fifteen minutes drag out for what feels like hours. I keep waiting for Will to turn around and find his way over to me. I look for him again.
“Alec craving?” Cassie winks.
“What’s up with Will?” someone says.
We both look at the same time. He’s still at the front desk, shoulders slumped forward, but now he’s sobbing into his hands. I spot Mr. K. No one else seems to notice him over there talking to Will. We’ve all been too wrapped up in waiting for the bulletin board to fill with the cast list and making predictions about who will dance what role.
“He deserves whatever it is.” Cassie’s words startle me.
“What?”
“I never told you, but he dropped me on purpose because of Bette.” She’s so cold, I can almost feel it coming off her.
“That can’t be true,” I say.
“Oh, yes it is.” Cassie’s eyes narrow. “He and Bette used to be best friends. If she wasn’t with Alec, she was with him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You don’t know Will or Bette like I do. She has a way about her.”
I think of Eleanor. Bette has a power over people. Still, I have to think the best of Will. “I’ll be back, okay?”
“Yeah,” she mutters.
I weave through the crowd of bodies toward Will. Mr. K and a few guards surround him, blocking everyone else out. I flush with worry. Is he getting in trouble for the pranks I pulled? I try to get a closer look. The lobby is so thick with people.
A hand lands on my shoulder. It’s Alec.
“Hey.” His fingers graze my skin, sending a tingle through me.
“Hey.” We stand there for a long moment, just looking at each other. He shifts back and forth. I try to say something, but it all gets jammed up in my head. Part of me wants to slip past him, to see what’s going on with Will. And the other part wants Alec’s hands wrapped around my waist, my head on his shoulder, as the cast list is revealed. I want to erase our old fight. I want things to go back to the way they were. It’s easier to be mad at him when I can’t smell him, when he’s not looking at me, when his hands aren’t raising goose bumps on my skin. It’s easier to erase him and distract myself with ballet.
“Good luck tonight.” He touches my cheek.
“You, too. I know you’ll be Siegfried.”
“And you’ll be Odette.”
“I hope.”
“Oh, I know you will.”
A rush of cold air comes in from the front doors. I crane my neck to look around Alec. I spot Will being led toward the exit.
I race forward, almost there. “Will!”
Will stops and looks at me for a second, his face shocked, red and apologetic. He steps in my direction. I feel Alec right behind me. All eyes are on us now.
“You have to leave the premises.” The guard pushes Will outside. Alec and I look at each other, confused.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know.” Alec’s eyes look heavy.
Clapping starts. Mr. K and Damien Leger walk to the front of the crowd laughing, like this isn’t the most important day of our lives.
The crowd parts for them as they make their way through. Our other teachers, Morkie, Pavlovich, and Doubrava, come out of the offices to the right in perfect synchronization, like it’s all been choreographed. Madame Dorokhova comes through the conservatory doors next. Behind her is Adele Abney, the company’s new Odette. My heart leaps a little and my monitor buzzes. She does a little half wave at me and hovers near the back of the crowd. Why is she here?
I head back to my spot. Alec follows. Henri stands with his arms around Cassie, his mouth in her hair. I try to focus on the teachers’ whispering and the piece of paper in the hands of Mr. K’s secretary.
“Good evening, everyone,” Damien says.
Sweat beads on my forehead, like it does when I’m warming up, even though I’m standing still. A strange flush of heat flashes through me as he speaks.
“Good evening, my butterflies,” Mr. K says. “Tonight is a very important one for the conservatory. Choosing the student cast for Swan Lake was one of our hardest decisions yet. I know you’re all dying to see the final list. But first, I must welcome back one of our very own.” He extends a hand out. The main office door opens.
Bette steps forward and turns to face everyone. In that moment, I feel like I might die all over again.
24.
June
“AS YOU ALL KNOW, THE accident last year has been the subject of investigation for many months,” Mr. K says, waving his hands around dramatically. “But Bette Abney has proven beyond a doubt that she was not at fault. We welcome her back with open arms.” He claps, and the room joins in, but the applause is slow and light.
Everyone is still stunned. They’ve clumped up into little groups of shock and support, but I find myself standing alone and aside, friendless again.