An excited murmur runs though the class. We had our first pas de deux class yesterday, but there are twice as many girls in our class as guys, so two of us were assigned to dance with each guy. Since it was the first day and we weren’t doing much more than getting used to working with a partner, it was fine. But it meant that each of us girls only got half a class worth of practice. Having twice the number of guys is going to be a real treat.
Marco holds his hands up for silence and we quiet down. “Secondly, after this weekend there will be another camp sharing the same housing with us. They are also athletes who share your passion and dedication, albeit to a different art. They will be housed on different floors to you, but they will be sharing the dining hall and the common areas with us. We expect you to be welcoming and courteous when in the common spaces, but they will not be allowed on your floors or in your dorm rooms. And as always, the rule stands that guys and girls may not enter each other’s dorm rooms under any circumstances.”
My eyes find Lisa’s in the mirror as excitement runs through me. Could he be talking about Trevor’s camp? I knew that they would be on campus, but I never dreamed that his camp would be housed in the same dorm building as mine. Is Trevor even going to be staying in the dorms? He lives here, maybe he’s going to commute in every day? I need to text him.
“Understood? Thank you, ladies. Reverence and then you may go,” Mr. Popov says turning to us. We get into position and wait for the pianist to play a chord before stepping away from the piano, then back, opening our arms towards the pianist, a silent, age-old motion to thank her for the music. We repeat the movement the other way gesturing towards Mr. Popov and Marco, since he’s still standing there, holding the end pose. At his nod, we relax and clap briefly before gathering up our bags and shoes so we can go to lunch.
“Do you think that’s Trevor’s camp he was talking about?” Lisa asks as we pull on our leggings. I’m so sweaty from class I debate whether to put on the tank top I was wearing this morning, but knowing we have to walk outside to get to the dining room, I slip it on.
“I don’t know. I’m going to text him in a minute.”
“How perfect would it be if it is?” Lisa stops to sip from her water bottle, waiting for me to finish zipping my pointe shoes into the bottom compartment of my dance bag. The ventilated bottom is perfect for letting them air out between classes. I have a second pair in my room that I’ve been swapping out with each day, trying to let my shoes dry out so they last longer.
Me: So… we just got told that another camp is sharing the dorm building with us starting next week. Do you think it’s your camp? Are you even staying in the dorms or are you staying at home?
I follow Lisa down the walkway that leads from the arts building to the building that contains our dining hall and dorm rooms.
Trevor: I am staying in the dorms. We start at 6am every day and there’s no way I’m getting up early enough to drive the 30 minutes it takes me to get there. I don’t know what dorm building it is, I guess I’ll find out on Sunday when we move in.
Trevor: But how awesome would it be if we were? Can I tell you how excited I am for tomorrow? I might even be more excited than when I was ten and we got to go to Disneyland on Christmas Day with Tyler’s fam.
Trevor: We’ve been in the same city for almost a week and I haven’t been able to see you yet. I’m dying a slow death here TT.
Picturing ten-year-old Trevor and Tyler running around Disneyland together has me smiling as we walk into the dining hall.
Me: Same. This is the closest we’ve been since January and it feels like you’re as far away as ever.
Chatting about the class while grabbing sandwiches and some sliced fruit, Lisa and I make our way into the downstairs lobby, eyeing a pair of overstuffed chairs with a coffee table set between them. The tables in the dining hall have a definite ‘you can’t sit here’ vibe as we walk past. I’m happy to sit away from everyone else and give the dagger wounds in my back a chance to heal.
“Are you sore? I’m dying today,” Lisa says, dropping her dance bag on the floor. “You would think that after four days I would be less sore, but no. My calves are killing me.”
I drop into the cushy chair, groaning. “Ugh, yes. My calves are so tight. And my back? I don’t know why. Maybe it was from that contemporary class yesterday. “
“Can I join you?” I look up to see Elena standing awkwardly in front of us. I guess the Eights haven’t finished yet because I don’t see Gloria anywhere. Elena was getting her share of icy stares in class as well.
“Of course,” I say, looking around for an extra chair. She plops down on the floor by my chair when Uri, Thomas and Noah join us, flopping on the carpet around us. I guess no one else wants a chair.
“Did Marco come tell you guys about the pas de deux classes?” Noah asks, taking a bite of his salad.
“Yes,” Elena answers for us. “I am glad to have one girl for each guy. It’s hard to keep switching.”
“Well, since we’ve never done any proper pas de deux, Hannah and I are happy to get to do anything,” Lisa says, swallowing her bite of food.
“It’s way easier for us to have one girl to figure out in each class,” Thomas adds. “Hey,” he turns to Lisa. “Rumor has it, you guys had private coaching from Marco Bethelo?”
“What?” I almost drop my sandwich at Thomas’ words.
“Where did you hear that?” Lisa asks. “And that’s one hundred percent not true. We met him at YIGP, when he awarded the Grand Prix award. We’ve had exactly one conversation with him here when he asked us about our teacher, that’s it.”
“Oh, I remember that,” Uri pipes up. “That one chick, Becca or something, said something.”
“I bet that the rumors could all be traced back to Becky,” Lisa mumbles around her bite of sandwich.
“I heard that some of the girls in Six are pissed that they aren’t in Seven,” Thomas adds. “One of the guys in our class goes to the same studio as some of them. He was bitching about it this morning.”
“Great, I might as well paint a bullseye on my back, make it easier for everyone to find me,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.
“It’ll be okay, Hannah. We got you,” Uri surprises me by saying. “Gloria and I can sympathize,” he adds. I guess they do, walking into the intensive with big wins at YIGP. They placed first and second, and even though I didn’t place, I still made it to the finals. That puts us in the position of being the dancers to beat, the ones on top of the pedestal ready to be toppled off.
“What do we have, babe?” Gloria appears, sandwich and soda in hand.
“Hannah’s back from the whiny girls in Six,” he explains, pulling her down to sit between his legs.
Gloria groans. “Oh god. It’s always the Sixes that cause the drama, especially if they’re older. They’re good enough to know they’re decent, but also old enough to realize that they may not be as good as they think they are.” She reaches out to pat me on the knee. “It happened to me last year. Once you’re an Eight the drama tends to die down, everyone in there is working too hard to care about anyone but themselves.”
As if to prove Gloria’s point, at that moment Becky and a group of girls walk past us on their way to elevators, throwing dirty looks to our whole group on their way, one of them muttering something about “holding court” as she passes me. I sink down into the chair, wishing I had taken my lunch up to my room and eaten it there. When I imagined my summer, I didn’t picture this.
Chapter Eight
Katy
Should I tell him about the drool? Or let him discover it when he wakes up? Equal parts fascinated and disgusted, I’m mesmerized by the string of drool running from Cole’s bottom lip to the sweatshirt he has balled up against the car door. It sways with the movement of the car, threatening to break with each bump on the road.
A finger snakes its
way over the back of the seat, aiming for Cole’s ear. “Don’t!” I whisper-hiss, smacking it away before Jack can stick his finger in Cole’s ear. “Let him sleep.”
“You’re no fun.” Jack pouts, crossing his arms over the back of our bench seat, resting his chin on his arms as he eyes me. The empty landscape of southern Nevada flashes past us, we left Las Vegas an hour ago after stopping there for a second, late breakfast. “You know, JJ was surprised at how fast you’ve been catching up in the training sessions.”
“Why is she so surprised that I’m awesome?” I snark back, grinning. No way am I going to admit that I’ve surprised myself with how much I’ve enjoyed the training sessions, once I got over having to get up at the crack of dawn four mornings a week. Running is a lot like getting through a long petit allegro exercise, there’s the same satisfying exhaustion at the end of it. Since JJ helped me figure out how to keep to a steady pace, I’ve been able to run almost a full mile before needing to take a quick walking break. And the other training, the obstacle course stuff, makes me feel like a badass, especially when I can do something faster than my brothers. Being smaller has its advantages in some things. But there’s no way I’m going to give Jack the satisfaction of knowing I’m having fun doing it.
“Come on, Bug. You know you like it.” Jack elbows me from his perch. “JJ told me you snuck in some extra reps over the monkey bars when Hunter and I went to get donuts yesterday.” My gut twists at the mention of JJ. It’s obvious from how often Jack talks about her that they’re in touch more than I thought. He mentions her name every other sentence. It has to mean something, right? But when we do our training sessions, she stays by my side, giving me a little extra encouragement. I can’t tell if it’s because she thinks I’m the weakest link on our team, because she doesn’t want me to feel like everyone is ganging up on me, or because she wants to impress Jack.
But maybe they’re hanging out together without me? Jack is always in and out the house, the boy just can’t sit home and relax. He talks about her a lot, but he talks a lot in general and I’ve never seen him truly interested in a girl so it’s hard to tell. With Hannah and Lisa gone, I’ve been spending most of my free time with Hunter. Weirdly, Cole has been hanging out with us a lot too. I thought he would be spending his summer hanging out with his college friends or maybe working, he is going into his junior year after all, but he’s either been in his room, swimming laps in our pool, or playing Mario Kart with me and Hunter. I know something’s wrong but I haven’t gotten to the bottom of it yet.
So far, this summer has racked up a never-ending list of questions in my mind and very few answers. I hate it.
“Why are you so surprised that I’m more badass than you? Hunter knows how tough us dancers are.” I crane my arm over the bench seat to poke Hunter in the knee, distracting him from scrolling through his phone.
“What?”
“Jack didn’t think I would be awesome at the terrain race training because he doesn’t have the same respect for ballerinas that you do.”
Hunter shakes his head at us. “Never doubt the ballerinas, dude. They’re tough. And devious.”
Jack laughs at that. “Katy is devious. Olivia too. Your girlfriend doesn’t have a devious bone in her body. It’s just that she’s smarter than anyone except you, so none of us see her coming.”
That earns Jack a smack upside the head from me, very convenient of him to leave his head right there where I can reach it. “I am not devious.”
“Says the girl who planned our ‘accidental’ run in with you girls before your dress rehearsal?”
“That wasn’t devious, that was good directing.” I huff.
“God, you guys are noisy.” Cole’s gravelly voice interrupts us. “I’m trying to nap.”
“We noticed. You got a little something…” I point to the puddle of drool decorating Cole’s cheek and get a menacing glare in return.
“Go back to sleep, Grumpypants.” Jack pushes Cole’s head against the window. “You need a nap.” Cole growls and swipes at Jack’s head. He dodges by leaning back into his seat, before turning to face me, leaning an elbow in the space between our oldest brother and me.
“Hey Bug? Why’d you let Allyson and her girls hang around? I kept waiting for you to find a way to drive them off.”
Not sure where this random question is going, I hesitate to answer. “Well, they were Olivia’s friends. And since Olivia was the only one worth talking to, I didn’t want to piss her off by driving off her friends. Besides, you managed to get rid of them just fine without me.” I settle back into my seat, arms crossed over my chest.
“After what they said about Lisa, there was no way I would let them anywhere near our house again.” Hunter growls, thinking back to that day. “But weren’t they competition?”
“Competition for what?” Now I’m confused.
“For the other guys, Bug. “ Jack blurts out. “Drew and the other guys,” he elaborates when I still don’t get it.
Competition for the other guys… The second it clicks, a deep blush heats my cheeks. I did have my fair share of crushes on Cole’s friends when I was a lot younger but… “Um, no. I have seen and heard way too many of them farting, burping and being disgusting to ever be attracted to any of them.” I shudder, trying to keep the revolting memories tucked away in the back of my brain where they belong.
“Besides,” I add. “Why would I be dumb enough to have a crush on any of them when I hear the way they talk about those same nasty bitches? They can have each other.”
“But back to JJ.” Jack pokes my arm. I swear I’m going to end up with mental whiplash from the way this conversation is skipping around. Jack and Hunter must be having an entire mental conversation that I’m not aware of because they seem to be on the same page and I’m barely keeping up. Stupid twin ESP.
“Back to JJ? Were we on JJ?” Somehow, I manage to restrain myself from rubbing my temples.
“Is she cool with you?”
I pretend to think, just to get under Jack’s skin. I get the feeling that he may like JJ, given how insistent he is and how much he talks about her. And for some reason, it doesn’t sit right with me. “I’m not sure yet. I can’t tell if she hangs out with me during training because she’s smart enough to know that I’m the one that needs buttering up, or if she has a keen sense of smell and self-preservation. I don’t know her that well yet, but so far she seems cool.”
I’m sure Jack is blinded by the brightness of her smile and the way her face lights up anytime we talk about food or music. Or running. Or pulling pranks on her younger brothers. We’ve had a lot of time to chat while I huff and puff beside her on our runs. Huh. Maybe I do know her better than I thought.
“Here.” My phone buzzes with an incoming message, Jack’s contact name lighting up my screen. “I sent you her number.”
Thing 2: JJ’s number. You should try to get to know her better, I want to know if she meets your standards.
Why does the thought of getting to know JJ better for my brother’s sake fill me with dread?
Me: In case I ever need to blackmail my brothers. Guard it with your life.
I attach the photo I took of Jack and Hunter before sending it to Lisa and Hannah. Hunter’s face is squished against the window, his mouth hanging open. But the real reason I took it is because Jack has somehow wedged himself behind Hunter’s shoulder, his head resting in the crook of Hunter’s neck. The wet spot on the shoulder of Hunter’s shirt is the crowning glory of this masterpiece of blackmail.
Not sure if I’ll hear back from my friends right away, it’s late Saturday afternoon and I don’t have their intensive schedule memorized, I put my phone down to look out the window. I’m pretty sure they’re off exploring Seattle with Trevor and their new friends, but since I don’t want to think about them making friends that aren’t me, I push it from my mind. Instead, I stare at the landscape pass
ing by my window. We’ve been in the car for hours upon hours, the desert transforming into mountains, and now back into plains.
I’m so bored.
Turning my phone over in my hand, I weigh my options. I could play a game, but that’s going to chew up my battery and it’s my dad’s turn to charge his phone. Same with a video. Music it is. Popping my earbuds in, I flip to my favorite playlist and go back to gazing out the window, but after skipping two songs in a row I know that just listening isn’t going to cut it.
I wonder what JJ’s up to.
Before I can second guess myself, I send her the same text and picture I sent to my friends. I guess seeing her reaction to this is as good a way as any to get to the bottom of her motives.
JJ: That’s adorable. Saving it in my super-secret “for blackmail purposes” folder on my phone.
My quiet chuckle has Cole looking at me funny. I flash him the conversation and grin when he mouths “send it to me please.”
Me: I knew I liked you for a reason. I’m bored out of my flipping mind. Ten hour drives suck.
JJ: Wanna play I spy?
Me: That seems a little difficult, since I’m in the middle of Nowhere, Utah and you’re in CA…
While I wait for JJ to respond, I flip back to see that Lisa is typing something in our group chat.
Lisa: I realize that I’m biased, but that is utterly adorable. Just for that, here’s this.
A picture pops up beneath her text and it takes everything in me not to squeal with delight. It’s a photo taken from behind of Hannah and who I must assume is Trevor, walking down the sidewalk holding hands. It’s so sweet, I want to kick my heels up and celebrate. They’re looking sideways at each other, oblivious to everything around them, the shy smiles on both their faces so genuinely happy that if I didn’t love Hannah so much and know everything they’ve gone through to get this moment together, I’d be sick with envy.
Face to Face (On Pointe Book 3) Page 6
