by Nicole Bea
I peer around the side of the door. “Where’s Amy?”
Brandon shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, still holding the roses like he doesn’t know when he should hand them over to me. I don’t want them anyway. “She and I-… yeah.”
“So you thought that you’d just come here and what, exactly?” My heart is beating so fast in my chest I think it’s about to explode out of my ribcage and splatter all over Brandon’s nice white shirt.
“I don’t know, Chelsea. I thought we could try again.”
“You left the scene of my mom’s accident,” I hiss. “You cheated on me. You really think I’m going to want to try again after that?”
“I thought…”
“You thought wrong. Go home, Brandon.” And with that, I shut the door and lock it, right in his face. It’s a bit of an inconvenient action really, because my only other way out of the room is through the window, and judging by the time and the missed text on my phone I was supposed to meet Lux and the other dancers almost ten minutes ago.
Lux: Please tell me you’re still coming.
Chelsea: I’m coming, just running a little behind. I’ll be there in a minute. Sorry. It’s my nerves.
Lux sends me a smiley face and nothing more, and when I finally peek out the door a minute later to look and see if Brandon’s still there, the hallway is thankfully empty.
I have to run to North Auditorium, so when I get there for a quick run-through of the night’s plans, I’m entirely out of breath. Lux mouths to me to ask if everything’s okay as Jenn’s explaining something about the lighting that I don’t understand, her eyeshadow sparkling gold and silver under the bright lights.
Lux is dressed all in black with his top three buttons undone, while Jenn’s outfit is primarily dark as well, with a skirt knotted above her knee. I feel a bit lackluster compared to the other dancers in the room; they’re all shiny and wearing these beautiful outfits, whereas I have on my black leggings and a pink cropped top with buttons on the front and a white cardigan. I wasn’t sure what to put on and Lux always tells me to wear something comfortable for dancing, so that seemed like the best choice. Now I wish I’d have gotten Mom to bring me something from home, even though I don’t think there’s anything in my closet that remotely resembles what Jenn and the other performers are wearing.
Jenn waves us off to warm up on our own, and Lux crosses the backstage area to me.
“You sure you’re okay?” He smells like cinnamon gum and peppermint mouthwash, and I could kiss him right here in front of everyone if I didn’t feel like I was about to retch my guts up.
“I’m just nervous. When’s our dance?”
“Near the end. A few other couples, then me and Jenn, and then you and me, and then the rest of the students from Passage. Should be about an hour and a half. Was your mom able to make it?”
“She said she’ll be in the front row with flowers.” I offer a weak smile to Lux.
“Perfect, she’ll have a great view for when you blow everyone else out of the water.”
“You’re putting a lot of pressure on me, you know. It’s just a beginner dance.”
“Yes, but it’s our dance.” His voice is low and rumbly, and it makes my insides twitch. Combined with his scent and the allure of his tight outfit, I’m practically back in mimosa-land.
“I’ll be back here when it’s time. I want to watch the other performances.”
Lux nods, one corner of his lip forming a grin. “I’ve got to warm up with Jenn, but I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Don’t forget to stretch your neck.”
I stretch out every part I can think of, watching the crowd filter into the auditorium through a crack in the stage curtains. There’s not a ton of people but more than I expected, the tickets seemingly having sold well. I see Mom sitting off to one side in the front row, just like she said she would, but she doesn’t see me behind the big curtain, so I don’t bother giving her a little, awkward wave.
Soon, Jenn’s on the stage introducing the two clubs, and greeting the guests for the night, her presence much more natural than my own would be and making me feel a pang of jealousy as I hope I won’t look awkward dancing after she does. Why couldn’t I have gone first so that expectations would have been low? But then again, if I would have gone first, maybe people would have left because it wasn’t very good, and they’d think that the club wasn’t up to par.
The performances from Passage College are good. I watch them with interest from backstage, their triple-steps impeccable and one couple adding in the Charleston to their swing moves and impressing the crowd with their dancing. Another couple uses an Ella Fitzgerald song for their exhibition; it’s not a song I recognize but I know her voice now from hearing a few of her songs over and over again.
There’s a lot of clapping in between performances, and the crowd seems to be enjoying themselves, which is great for the future of the club—at least in my opinion.
I’m leaning against the wall watching from the wings when Lux comes over to me. There’s an intermediate couple on dancing to music I don’t recognize and I’m about as antsy as possible, so I’m thankful for the distraction.
“Jenn and I are on next,” Lux says, reclining against the wood-paneled wall. “Kiss for good luck?”
I puff a little bit of air out of my nose. “You really want to kiss me? I’m a bundle of sweaty nerves.”
“I always want to kiss you.”
Lux dips in for a quick embrace, our lips touching just barely for only a moment before I spot movement in the shadows. Jenn is standing there, her hands on her hips, an exasperated look on her face.
“Lux!”
He doesn’t quite jump back but he does retreat from my personal bubble, heaving in a shallow sigh before he looks over at Jenn. “Yes?”
“We’ve got thirty seconds.” Her statement is flat, like she wanted to interrupt our moment for the sake of interrupting it, but Lux nods anyway, standing up straight from his position against the wall.
“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he says to me.
“Okay,” I reply as the crowd applauds and the intermediate couple trots off the stage and into the back behind the curtain. Jenn practically drags Lux away from me, the thirty seconds of time he had apparently over, and brushes him down with her hands before flitting out onto the stage to introduce the two of them and their dance piece.
“Lux Colford and I founded the Bedford University Swing Dance Club last year,” she begins. “And as many of you know because you’re here tonight, we’re trying to keep our membership with student council funded so we’ll be able to teach swing to students for many years to come. So, thank you all for coming here and purchasing tickets—the money goes directly to our overhead costs and training to ensure we can provide the best possible service. However, we do need a minimum number of students enrolled in our club, as I mentioned earlier. So, Lux and I decided to show you two additional dances tonight. First, we will dance to one of our favorite songs to show you what we can teach. Second, we’ll have a beginner student come dance with Lux to show what can be accomplished in only a few lessons.”
Jenn and Lux cross the stage to the middle, and the song from our first dance class begins to play on the speakers overhead. Their dancing is impeccable, at least to my untrained eye. She moves where he guides her, dipping her low to the ground, swinging across the stage in fluid movements that are both beautiful and elegant. The more I watch them the more I feel like I’ve made the wrong choice by coming here tonight, as if I can’t hold up my end of the bargain even though Lux has invested so much time teaching me.
The song begins to slow to an end, and Lux spins Jenn under his arm before drawing her in close as the final notes play. It’s the perfect ending to a great song, but then something happens that I would never have expected in a million years.
As the audience claps, Jenn reaches for the front of Lux’s shirt, pulling him into a deep and passionate kiss. At first, Lux’s body stiffens—and mine d
oes as well. I stand there, frozen in the wings of the stage as the crowd hoots and hollers for the two of them. As Jenn pulls away from the kiss with a devilish smirk on her face, my hard exterior cracks and I throw myself from the backstage area out the side door to the small auditorium courtyard, hot tears streaming down my face.
My body shakes with silent sobs, and I can hardly see straight to find a seat on the wide steps leading up to the North building. I can’t believe that Jenn would do something like that, and I can’t believe that Lux would let it happen. What if things between them aren’t really over?
I don’t know how long I sit out there, but it’s at least a couple of minutes because there’s more applause, and then I hear the sound of the large wooden doors to the building opening and closing. Footsteps follow, and then a familiar voice speaks before taking a seat down next to me on the cold stone.
“He’s your new boyfriend, isn’t he?” Brandon asks, looking down at his shoelaces. “I could tell from the minute that he went on stage that he wasn’t into that girl.”
I just sniffle and don’t say anything because there isn’t much to say. My heart feels like it’s squeezing out every other part of my body, ruining my ability to function as a normal human being. I don’t want to be here with Brandon, not right now and not ever, but it probably beats being totally alone.
“Chelsea, you deserve better than that.”
I look up at Brandon with tears in my eyes, knowing that I must have mascara running down my face. I don’t care what I look like in front of him because I’m not trying to make a positive impression. “Do I? You cheated on me. Now Lux. What if I’m just made to be cheated on?” I stare down at the ground.
“You’re not. I was stupid. Maybe this guy is stupid too. But I’m here now and I want you to know that I don’t want to be stupid anymore.”
Brandon slips a hand softly along my jaw, turning my face toward his. His lips are puckered like he’s going to try to kiss me, but the scent of cinnamon and peppermint still lingers somewhere in my memory. As Brandon leans in, his mouth close to mine and not giving me butterflies, I lift my hand to push him away. “Go home.”
“But, Bug…”
Lowering my voice and staring him directly in the eyes, I repeat myself. “I said, go home.”
There’s a moment of hesitation as Brandon descends the stairs, but soon he withdraws into the evening under the stars, the midnight blue encapsulating him to the point where he almost becomes as dark as the angry ocean of Patrick’s Cove.
And then I too become the sea, salty tears falling down my cheeks and burning my face with embarrassment, frustration, and the painful sadness at losing Lux.
Chapter 11
I don’t bother staying at the exhibition even though Mom is inside and waiting for my performance. There’s no point, because I’m certainly not going to dance with Lux now—and maybe never again. Instead, I walk back to my dorm, trying to hide my tears from everyone I pass by, keeping my head down and my gaze directed toward my black ballerina flats. I’m not sure a stranger would stop me anyway, and I’ve sent Brandon away so there’s no chance of him and his stupid pink roses showing up at the door of 2C.
About thirty minutes later, my phone rings and I know it’s Mom before I even check the caller ID.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Chelsea! I saw what happened. I mean, I think I know what happened. Did you know about Lux and that girl? The one who was running the show?”
There’s the sound of a crowd milling about behind her, people opening and closing what I presume is the large wooden door leading to North Auditorium. The exhibition must be over now. The music is no longer playing in the background.
I don’t have a good answer for her because I’m crying again, sobs shaking my body and causing me to cough-breathe in an awkward way. Mom is patient on the other end of the line as I try to compose myself, sucking in deep breaths of the warm dormitory air. A few minutes later, I find I’m able to speak to explain the situation. I don’t go into details; Mom doesn’t really need them anyway. I think she’s able to discern most of what’s going on without me even having to tell her.
“I understand you’re upset. I’d be upset too. And Brandon showing up at just the wrong time—I never thought he would actually come here and say anything to you.” Mom pauses, and I hear her sigh. “He just seemed so lost when he came to the house looking for you that I figured I might as well let him know you were doing well and what you’d been up to.”
“I know, Mom. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault, really. Except maybe Jenn’s.”
“Yes, I think she’s caused a few problems. But maybe Lux hasn’t been entirely truthful with you either?”
I shake my head even though Mom can’t see me. “He told me that things were over with her but that she wasn’t accepting the breakup.”
“Seems like she doesn’t understand the meaning of a breakup. It means it’s broken. And typically, when something is broken, it falls apart and ends.”
“I know. She’s been…” I think about the first day of dance where she was talking about Lux like they were still an item, then to when she made Lux and me dance in front of the whole class together. “She’s been a lot.”
“You can’t let someone like that win, Chelsea. Even if she and Lux don’t get back together, she’ll have ripped you two apart which is probably all she really wants. And she won’t be any happier for it. Believe me.”
She’s right, but part of me is still too hurt and too damaged to feel ready to tackle a conversation with Lux about what happened tonight and to get the official word on what’s happening between the two of us. Maybe we both misunderstood. Because I’m certain you can love someone and like someone else at the same time.
“I’m going to head back to Daphne’s now, unless you want me to keep you company.?”
I look around at my mess of a dorm room, the light reflecting stars off the walls and my piles of paper and dirty laundry. “No, that’s okay. I think I just need to take a shower and go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel like dealing with what happened tonight.”
“That sounds good, honey. You can call me whenever you want to talk, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Have a good night. Don’t stay up too late.”
We say our goodbyes and I tap the ‘call end’ button, placing the phone down on the pillow. The image of Lux and Jenn kissing keeps rolling around and around in my head. I don’t know if I can even make myself get in the shower because I’ll remember what happened in there only a few weeks ago. And then, well, I don’t know what. My anxiety will probably take over and I’ll end up in a sobbing heap on the tiles under the flow of the water with nobody to calm me down.
I breathe in a long, sharp breath before tugging off my cardigan and dropping it in on the floor. Maybe I should just get the conversation over with. Maybe it’s not good to go to sleep angry and frustrated.
Crawling underneath my blankets and propping myself up against the wall with my pillows, I pick up my phone again and stare at Lux’s name. Half of me wants to send him a message written all in capital letters and berate him for what happened. However, there’s this other part of me that wants to believe that Jenn orchestrated the whole thing just to make me angry, to maybe try to get Lux back, or for some reason that only makes sense to her.
Lux’s name stares back at me and time ticks by; five, seven, ten minutes.
After eleven minutes there’s a blink on the screen that I have a new text. It’s almost as if I’ve imagined it into reality, because there’s a message from Lux.
Lux: I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what she was thinking. But I need to know what you were thinking too, out there with your ex? Since when has he been coming around campus?
Chelsea: First time was right before the exhibition. He showed up at my room to try and apologize for being the world’s biggest jackass. Mom told him about the performance and he thought it would be a great idea to pop by.
>
Lux: Can we please not do this over text?
Chelsea: You’re the one who texted me.
Lux: To see if you’d even answer. For all I knew, you’d never want to talk to me again.
I rub the side of my eye with one finger, stifling a yawn and further smudging the mascara that’s already run down under my lids. My heart feels torn. I both do and don’t want to talk to Lux. I thought I wanted to say something, thought I’d have something to get off my chest, but there’s nothing. It’s just empty and frozen with disappointment.
Chelsea: Maybe tomorrow we can talk.
Lux: Okay.
Chelsea: But I do have one question.
Lux: What’s that?
Chelsea: Do you love her?
The dots at the bottom of the screen that signify he’s typing feel like they go on forever and ever. They bounce up and down at the edge of the screen, showing that Lux is either thinking really hard about what he’s going to say, or he’s writing out a novel as his response. Neither one seems like a positive answer, and my nervous heart beats so wildly that I feel as if I’m going to get sick.
Lux: Chelsea, I don’t love Jenn. The way I like you makes me think that maybe I never loved her in the first place. The way I like you makes me want to stand on top of Harris Hall and tell the world that I’ve met the girl of my dreams, that I’ve never felt the way I do when I dance now, that every moment of every day I want to be with you. I want to make you pancakes every morning and watch the stars with you at night. And despite Jenn kissing me tonight, I swear to you with every fiber of my being that I wish that kiss on that stage had been with you.
I read the text over at least three times before I respond.
Chelsea: I saw you kiss her back.
Lux: Was I supposed to stop her in front of all those people? Embarrass her?
Chelsea: I don’t know, Lux. I don’t have the right answer. All I know is that I feel like there are a bunch of wrong ones and they all involve us continuing this conversation tonight. I’m going to bed.
