Watching Over Me: A Dreams Novel

by Kamery Solomon

  “Doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered back. “You know as well as I do that if they don’t like five of us well enough that they’ll audition outside the school.”

  Swallowing hard, I nodded, flexing my feet nervously.

  “Let us begin from the top,” Gini called, flicking her wrist in a manner that meant we were to scatter to our opening spots.

  Practice went smoothly, as it should have for opening night. Feeling more than confident in my abilities as a member of the corps, I went back to the dressing room to get ready for the first number I would be performing—the one I’d choreographed myself.

  Changing into a plain purple shirt and matching, floor length, tattered skirt, I let my hair down, fluffing the curls I’d heated it into earlier. Meg entered the room as I began my makeup, sighing.

  “Have you seen the storm outside? It’s pretty nasty. I’m a little surprised that they didn’t delay the show.”

  “They have been planning it all year. It’s just some rain.” Checking my phone all the same, I sighed in relief—Dad’s flight had landed two hours ago. He was probably out in the house right now, waiting for the show to start. Eric was most likely here as well, in his own private box. Steadying myself with one more breath, I went back to my makeup, trying to keep my hand from shaking as I applied it.

  “That one group number is up first, right? The one with the half of the class?” Meg asked another girl, turning her attention away from me.

  “Yeah.”

  Their conversation faded into the background as I began coaching myself through the nerves, a trick I’d picked up while in The Nutcracker.

  “Dancers for the first number of the evening to the stage please.” The speaker voice broke through my thoughts and I looked up, my makeup finished and my mind settled into a place I could work from.

  “Here we go!” Meg said excitedly, waving at the people who left the room.

  “I need to go practice with Danny in the green room.” Standing up, my bare feet felt strangely foreign after wearing pointe shoes so many times here.

  “Sweet, I’ll come with you. I don’t have to do anything until our turn. My solo is toward the end of the evening.”

  Walking into the hall, I tried to tune out some of the conversations being held there.

  “Yeah, big agents in the audience—”

  “—I invited their director to come. Do you think she will?”

  “My parents will kill me if I mess this up—”

  Shaking my head, I hummed to myself, going over steps in my head until I reached the green room.

  Despite its name, the room was not green. Then again, most green rooms weren’t. It was a normal room where performers waited for their cues. The large, open space was already occupied by a handful of students, who were either stretching at the barre or gathered around the small television that was relaying live video of the stage.

  “Scar!” Danny waved at me from the barre, where he’d been chatting with some classmates. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.” A sick feeling filled my stomach as I watched the curtains on the screen opening, the showcase officially starting in the auditorium. “Let’s go through it really quick.”

  Our number was the seventh one in the show, right after a few of the girls performed a number from Swan Lake. We were the first of the original choreography, which was a huge honor on my part. Right now I was wishing we didn’t have to do it at all.

  “Hey. It’s going to be awesome.” Danny, apparently catching on to my jitters, tried to reassure me. “It’s a beautiful dance, Scar. We’re going to blow their socks off. We got this!”

  Smiling, I took another deep breath and nodded, getting in position. “And five, six, seven, eight . . . .” As soon as we began moving, I felt better. This dance was all about Eric, even if he wasn’t here with me. Just the thought of him calmed me once more, my head getting out of the technicalities of the evening and my body getting into the movements. There was no music and we weren’t blindfolded, but it still felt right, like breathing to me.

  “Ouch!” Jerked right from the mood of it all, I spun around, watching Danny as his foot continued to buckle under him, his body twisting in the air as he fell to the ground.

  Everyone immediately came hurrying in our direction, panicked and trying to help as he winced on the floor.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, kneeling beside him.

  “I don’t think so.” Sweat, that wasn’t related to physical activity, was beading on his forehead. “I came down on it and my toes went under.” Wincing as I gingerly felt the foot, he seemed to know what everyone else in the room did, but no one wanted to say.

  “Somebody get Miss Gini,” I said with a dry mouth. “Danny won’t be able to dance tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “I’m so sorry, Scar,” Danny said, wincing again as the company doctor felt around his foot. It was red and swollen, maybe even broken based on the bruise that was forming. “Is there anyone else who can do the dance?” He yelped as she found the spot that was paining him the most, her fingers poking him delicately.

  “No,” I answered. Yes, but I can’t ask him to do it.

  Everyone pressed in around us, whispering as they watched, the entire scene reflected in the mirrored walls. The showcase continued on the television behind me, the audience oblivious to the injury that had occurred backstage.

  “You’ve only sprained it,” the doctor said, interrupting our conversation. “But you won’t be doing any dancing for at least six weeks.”

  A collective groan rushed through the room as everyone heard the news. An injury, during a show no less, was a dancer’s worst nightmare.

  “Fantastic.” He moaned, covering his face with his hands as he leaned back in the chair. Sympathy filled me; he could lose any chance he had with the company over this. “I feel just awful,” he said to me.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” I assured him. “Don’t feel bad, Danny. I’m glad it’s not broken.”

  “Me too.” His look was grim as the doctor wrapped him up, and waved the crowd away, motioning for him to follow her.

  “I’ve got some pain killers in my office,” she said, pulling his arm over her shoulders so she could help him walk.

  “Feel better,” I said drearily as they limped out of the room together, Danny in his light blue pants that I’d picked for our number and the doctor in her pink shirt and jeans.

  “What are you going to do?” Meg asked, biting her lip as she sat by me, her black tutu covering her legs.

  “The only thing I can do.” Sighing, I stood and looked around the room. The other students were glancing at me, whispering amongst themselves in sympathy. I didn’t need to hear them to know what was being said; I couldn’t fulfill one of my assignments for the showcase. Any chance I had at being asked to join the company was probably long gone now. Frustrated and embarrassed, I left the room, holding the angry tears at bay as I bit my lip.

  All of the work I’d done this year, before and after Eric, was a waste. I’d spent almost every night working myself to the bone, and for what? When Mr. Webber heard that I wouldn’t be doing my original dance tonight, he would think me unreliable. I would be immediately written off.

  Still, I knew what I needed to do. There was no way I could just not tell anyone what happened. They would announce my number and I would have to come up with something on my own. I didn’t want my final performance to be something I made up on the spot.

  It didn’t take me very long to find Miss Gini, watching the performance on the stage from the wings. She was like a phantom, standing in the curtains, the lights not touching her black form. Only her face shone in the light bouncing off the shiny stage floor, her eyes carefully watching every movement made across its surface. Softly, I cleared my throat, grabbing her attention before I went out into the hall.

  Closing the door softly behind her, she looked at me for a second before speaking. “How is he?”

  This
was it. Here went my entire future at United Dance. Here, in this hall lined with chairs and tables, my dance life would fall apart. “It’s only sprained,” I said carefully, blinking hard as tears tried to escape from me once more. “But he won’t be able to perform tonight. I’m sorry, Miss Gini, but I have to cancel. No one else knows it, and I can’t do it by myself.” I didn’t want to cry in front of her, but it seemed as if that were impossible. Closing my eyes, I continued. “Who do I tell so it doesn’t get announced?”

  Staring at me for a moment, she nodded, rubbing her chin. “I’ll take care of it, Miss Redford. Thank you for telling me. I’m very sorry.”

  “Thank you,” I replied weakly, turning away. “I guess I’ll go change for the ballet.”

  “Take a minute to sort yourself out,” she said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t rush out of this.”

  “I will.” Glancing back at her, I smiled the best I could before moving away, heading in the direction of the dressing room.

  “When was your number?” she called after me.

  “Two dances from now.”

  I felt numb as I moved, the hall seeming to stretch on for eternity in front of me, a never-ending trap of white tile and walls. Even when Meg joined me, holding the door open and ushering me inside, it still didn’t feel like this was real life, like I’d lost my dream.

  “What did she say?” Meg asked, looking at me expectantly. The speaker overhead was calling for the next set of dancers to come to the stage.

  “It’s canceled.” My voice sounded funny, like it was caught under water or something. Surprised, I looked at my face in the mirror as I sat down, watching as one tear rolled down my cheek.

  “Oh, Scar.” Frowning, she sat, taking her arm and cuddling me to her affectionately. Gently, she rested her head against mine. “It’ll be okay. They’ll understand.”

  “Will they, though?” Everything felt frozen. What could I do to show them I was someone they wanted in their cast? All that was left was the ballet. No one would ever see me alone in the chorus, not unless they were watching for me specifically.

  We sat in silence for a while, staring at our reflections, before I sighed and stood up. “Help me change for the ballet?” I asked, moving to my dance bag. “It’s up next and they’ll be calling us to the stage soon.”

  As I rifled through the contents, the speaker turned on again. “Dancers for the number Blindly to the stage please. Two minute warning.”

  “What?” I shrieked, looking up at the little box in horror. “That’s my dance! It’s canceled!”

  “I thought you said Gini was taking care of it!” Meg looked just as shocked as I did, standing there with her mouth gaping like a fish.

  “She must not have made it in time?” Heart pounding like I’d just competed in the Kentucky Derby on foot, my palms suddenly started sweating profusely. “What do I do?”

  “You’re going to have to go out there. They’ll open the curtains on an empty stage while your music is playing.” Her eyes were wide, the speaker on the wall piping up and informing me I had one minute to get my ass on stage.

  “Uh . . .” Thinking quickly, I moved for the door. “I’ll just do, I don’t know, something. I’ll improvise.”

  “The blindfold,” Meg hissed, ripping the thing out of my bag. “The program says your dance is performed blind!”

  “Right!” Grabbing the piece of cloth from her, I darted back into the hall, sprinting to the stage, wondering what on earth I was going to do and how I would do it blind.

  Crashing through the doors as quietly as possible, I made it to the wings just as the number in front of me finished to thunderous applause. The curtains closed and the dancers exited the stage, leaving the large space for me.

  Trembling like a leaf, I moved to the center, tying the blindfold around my eyes. “Please,” I whispered, hoping that the prayer would reach someone who’d give me a break.

  “I’m here!” Hands gripped mine and I yelped at Eric’s voice, caught off guard.

  “Eric? What are you doing?” Shock and relief flooded through me at the same time, his presence soothing me as it always did.

  “I got the blindfold from Danny,” he said, ignoring my question. “Let’s do this.” He sounded nervous, more so than I’d ever heard or seen.

  Gently, I let go of one of his hands and reached out, feeling the bare skin of his chest; he was in only pants, as I’d decided on when costuming the dance. “Eric,” I whispered. “Are you sure?”

  “I love you,” he said with conviction. “And you need me. I’m sure.”

  The curtains started moving against the floor, opening, and I heard the gasp in the theatre as the lights hit us. I knew they were seeing his scars, whispering as we waited for the music to start. He was gripping my fingers so tightly that it hurt, but his breathing was steady.

  “I love you,” I whispered back, trying not to move my lips.

  The music started, and with it the dance. It was just as I’d always dreamed, him and me together. Our bodies spinning and twirling as if we were one, each move executed perfectly. At the first lift, the audience burst into applause, cheering as he lowered me back to the floor, dipping me artfully. The movements continued, with more applause for every difficult set we executed. When I fell backward, trusting him to catch me, there was a collective gasp, followed by a thunderous approval, like we were superstars on a television show or something. Finally, the music began drifting away and we came together.

  Hesitating, I reached up for his blindfold, knowing the choreography called for me to remove it and display his face to the audience. How much was he willing to show them?

  “Do it,” he whispered, pulling my own blindfold off.

  He was beautiful. The lights washed his skin in blue, his scars shining under their glow. Every muscle looked perfect, his body speaking to me in so many ways, even as it stood motionless. Carefully, I pulled the blindfold down around his neck, staring into his brown eyes. They were filled with so much love that I smiled in spite of myself.

  What happened next hadn’t been choreographed, but felt so natural that I didn’t care. Leaning forward, he captured my mouth with his, holding me close as he kissed me strongly. It took a second for me to realize that the ringing in my ears wasn’t actually ringing, but the audience, giving us a standing ovation like they would at a rock concert. I’d never heard such a thing at a dance performance before.

  Breaking away, Eric took my hand and turned me toward the people, bowing low. He was shaking slightly, but he was all smiles. I took my bow as well, moving toward the rear of the stage with him as the curtains closed.

  “You did wonderfully,” he said as soon as we were blocked from view, leaning in and kissing my forehead.

  “Thank you so much.” I felt like I was going to cry again. He’d given me something I would never be able to repay him for, something that had cost him greatly. “Why did you do it?”

  “There’s no time,” he said, motioning to Meg in the wings. She was holding my clothes for the ballet, waving furiously for me to come change. “You have to go!”

  “I love you,” I said again, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you!”

  Pulling me after him, he exited the stage into the wings, where the rest of the students were waiting. One girl gasped as he passed her, the rest of the class staring quite pointedly. “Uh,” he said uncomfortably. “I’m going to go, Scar.”

  I could see the panic in his eyes, the way that everyone was looking at him. There was horror in their expressions, some of them whispering.

  “What happened to your face?” one of the guys asked.

  “Go,” I said, my heart hurting for him.

  Nodding, he pushed through the crowd, and they parted easily for him, passing through the stage door without looking back.

  “Here,” Meg hissed at me. “Change!” Then, quieter, she spoke again. “So, that’s why he didn’t want anyone to see him.”

  “I’
ll tell you about it later,” I mumbled, putting my dance hose on as quickly as possible.

  “Scar?” She helped pull my hair up into a bun as I continued to dress.

  “Yeah?”

  “You were both beautiful.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Who was he?”

  “Did you see his scars?”

  “I wonder what happened to him?”

  “Did you see the way he moved?”

  It was like we hadn’t even been performing the end of the year ballet less than thirty seconds ago. As the students filtered off the stage, they whispered about Eric, shooting sidelong glances in my direction. Some of them seemed horrified by his appearance, but for the most part, the whispers were discussing his dance technique and how well he’d done. None of their talk mattered to me in that moment, though.

  Pushing past everyone, I hurried across the dark backstage, practically flying through the door and into the hall. It was empty, as I’d expected, and my shoed footsteps echoed softly off the walls, the sound gradually mixing with the noises of the other students as they exited the stage as well, heading for the green room. The showcase was only half over for most of them, myself excluded.

  Passing by the green room myself, I glanced inside, noting that it was empty, and kept on going. Eric had to be here somewhere, unless he’d gone to his box to finish the show. Something told me that he wouldn’t go back out with the audience after dancing, though. Not when they would all recognize him and stop him along the way.

  Checking each room I passed, I made my way down the hall, my tutu swishing around my thighs, my hair so tight in its bun it felt like it was going to pull out at the roots. Just as I reached the door that led to the front of the auditorium, I heard a soft crying from the room right next to me, through the shut door. Alarmed, I opened it quietly, not knowing what to expect.

  It was a spare props room, the walls lined with shelves and tables holding various items. The space was large and open, with only the one long light on the ceiling. All of these things were noticed only by my subconscious, though, as my eyes filled with tears at the sight in front of me.