by Yelana Black
Vanessa gripped the arms of her chair. Even though she knew that Josef had to have worked with Margaret, the mention of her name made it suddenly real. She could almost imagine Margaret sitting in the exact seat she was in now, her legs primly crossed, her eyes nervously darting to the swinging clock pendulum.
“She was a beautiful—no, marvelous—dancer. So fragile. It seemed a miracle that such a delicate creature could stir the air the way she did.”
Vanessa said nothing, even though she knew exactly what Josef was talking about. All she could think of was her sister, the way her slender ankles seemed like they were going to break every time she leaped. But somehow they never did.
“That’s what ballet is supposed to do,” Josef said, as if reading her thoughts. “To make the impossible seem possible. Your sister was almost there. She almost made us believe …” He let his voice trail off. “Ah, but of course you know this.”
Vanessa blinked, her eyes suddenly watery with memories.
“You must be wondering why I called you here?”
Vanessa gave him a slight nod.
“I’ve been watching you.”
Vanessa felt her heart drop. So he had seen her in the theater.
“Your form is perfect, you clearly have practiced all of your steps, yet when you perform them, it’s as if they’re natural, unchoreographed, flowing out of you like breath. Even your barre exercises look like art.”
Vanessa’s lips parted in disbelief. Did she just hear what she thought she’d heard?
“The legs,” he said, motioning to her muscular thighs. “The wild look in your eyes. The hair. You dance like you’re a feral animal.” He shook his head. “You’re nothing like your sister, but you could be better. I think—” He held up his finger. “I think you could be tremendous. Frightening, but tremendous.”
His dark eyes rested on her, waiting for her response, but all Vanessa managed was a hoarse, “What?”
Josef laughed. “You do not think so?”
“No—I—it’s just that I thought you were going to expel me.”
Josef raised his eyebrows with amusement. “Expel you?” He let out a chuckle. “See? Margaret never would have said this to me. You are fierce.” He stood, looming over her. “But you are fierce in the wrong way. You have a passion for life, but not for dance. Don’t deny it, I can see it in your face. You don’t love it like the others do.”
Embarrassed, Vanessa stared at her lap. How could he see all that?
“The Firebird would have been Margaret’s role, had she stayed on at NYBA. I know I told the class that most of the roles would go to upperclassmen, but I’m still looking for a lead ballerina.”
Vanessa’s heart skipped a beat. Unaccountably, her thoughts flashed to Zep, his angular face, his tall, muscular form.
“Your dancing is impressive for your age, but even your perfect form cannot hide your lack of passion. In that regard, you have a long way to go before you fill your sister’s shoes. It is almost as if you don’t care.”
Vanessa sank back in her chair, all of the hope dissipating from her chest.
“But if you do, somehow, find a way to transcend yourself in the coming weeks, and let the dance fill you with the kind of passion a leading ballerina must harness within her, I would be happy to consider you for a role in the ballet.”
A role in The Firebird? Considering she came to Josef’s office preparing to be expelled?
“Thank you, Josef,” she said, beaming. “I—I just have a lot of things on my mind. But I can let them go; I know I can.”
“You don’t have to let them go,” said Josef. “You just have to use them. For us, life and dance are not separate. Dance your life.”
“Right,” Vanessa said. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good,” he said as she backed out into the hall. “I look forward to seeing it.”
After the door clicked shut behind her, Vanessa ran down the hall, no longer able to contain her excitement, and let out a loud “Yes!”
“Shh!” a secretary scolded as she walked by, carrying a stack of files. But Vanessa didn’t care. She ran up the stairs, trying to imagine the look on her friends’ faces when she told them what had happened.
But halfway to the dormitory, she slowed to a stop. Something was missing. She checked her bag, and her wallet and ID were there. That’s when she realized.
Her cell phone. She had been holding it when she entered Josef’s office. She’d probably left it on the desk when she picked up the amber rosin. She made her way back downstairs and was about to knock on his door when she heard muffled voices. Inching closer, she pressed her ear against the door.
“And what of Vanessa?” a woman said. Vanessa recognized Hilda’s voice.
“She isn’t perfect,” Josef said. “But she has real potential.”
“Her steps are a little hasty,” Hilda said. “It makes me wonder if her heart is in it, or if she is just rushing through the motions.”
“After my talk with her today, I think things will be different,” Josef said.
Hilda grunted. “You always say that.”
“Vanessa is different. I can feel it. She has a fire in her.”
“That’s just her hair,” Hilda said with a laugh.
“No, it’s something more. There have been so many who have not lived up to their potential. Like Helen. Such a disappointment. I just hope Vanessa won’t turn out like her sister,” Josef said, his voice suddenly bitter. Startled, Vanessa gasped and went rigid. Josef had spit the words out as if he detested Margaret.
“Wait,” Hilda said. “I heard something.”
From inside, a chair creaked.
Vanessa’s cell phone would have to wait. The sound of Hilda’s limping gait grew closer. Soundlessly, Vanessa slipped around the corner into a shadowed alcove by the janitor’s closet, where she could just see as Hilda threw the door open, looking left, then right. Vanessa pressed herself against the wall and held her breath. Across the way, a group of students ambled past, shouting and laughing. Hilda gave them a grumpy look before retreating back into Josef’s office, the door shutting behind her.
Chapter Nine
As September ripened into October, the trees that lined Broadway burst into a fiery red, forming a brilliant canopy over the sidewalk. Vanessa and Steffie walked below them in the crisp autumn breeze, each sipping an iced tea. Last month when Elly disappeared, the leaves had still been green.
Vanessa still couldn’t understand why Elly had left so suddenly without saying good-bye. Why hadn’t she told them how she’d been feeling? Vanessa had called and texted her dozens of times, leaving her voice mails until the box was full. She’d e-mailed and messaged her on Facebook—they all had—with no response.
“Sometimes I wonder if we were even really friends,” Vanessa said. “Maybe we never knew the real Elly.”
“Don’t say that,” said Steffie. “Of course we knew her.”
“Then why didn’t she trust us enough to confide in us?” Vanessa said, remembering how she’d felt when Margaret had disappeared.
“I think she’s just in a bad place right now. I mean, she hasn’t even updated her Facebook page since she left. Can you imagine quitting dance? It would be like starting over again.”
Vanessa took a sip from her tea, unsatisfied. Steffie’s words made sense, but they still didn’t explain Elly’s disappearance.
“Look at this,” Steffie said, catching an orange leaf and spinning it by its stem. “Even the trees are starting to remind me of The Firebird and how I’m not going to be cast. It’s like the entire city is trying to stress me out.”
“I know what you mean,” Vanessa said, balancing on the curb, her eyes drifting across the crowd. “I keep having these warped dreams that Josef casts me, but just before I’m supposed to perform on opening night, I turn into a pigeon.” She didn’t mention her other dreams of Zep, slipping another note in her door, telling her to meet him at the studio, where he would take her in his arms
and then … Because the reality was that it had been over two weeks, and Zep still hadn’t spoken to her. She’d expected him to at least say hello, but every time she saw him in the halls he’d been with Anna, who clung to his arm as they laughed. It was as if Zep had never written the note to Vanessa in the first place.
Steffie choked on her tea, laughing. “A pigeon?”
“It’s not funny,” Vanessa insisted. “I know it’s crazy, but I can’t stop thinking about what I heard Josef say to Hilda.”
After Vanessa had narrowly escaped discovery outside Josef’s office, she left her cell phone there and ran directly to Steffie’s room, where she told her everything. The next day before class, Hilda called Vanessa over and handed back her cell phone without a word, her face impenetrable.
“What is Josef hiding?” Vanessa continued. “He seems to know something about Margaret’s disappearance. Maybe he knows something about Elly’s too. You have to admit they’re similar.” She knew Steffie had to be tired of the conversation, but she couldn’t help it.
Steffie raised an eyebrow. “You want my honest opinion?”
Vanessa nodded.
“I think you’re reading too much into it.”
Vanessa chewed on her straw, not wanting to admit that Steffie had a point.
“Then what do you think Josef was talking about?” Steffie pressed. “That he was involved in Margaret’s running away? That she disappointed him and he whisked her away, and he did the same thing to Elly?”
Vanessa had considered all of those things, late at night, tossing around in her bed while TJ snored. But now that Steffie had spoken them out loud, they seemed absurd.
Suddenly a horn honked. Vanessa gasped as Steffie pulled her back onto the sidewalk just before a taxi would have hit her. The driver slammed on the brakes, cursing out the window.
“What is the matter with you?” Steffie said, loosening her grip on Vanessa’s shirt. “You have to stop obsessing about Josef and take a look around you.”
Vanessa took a deep breath. “You’re right.”
Steffie went on. “Plus, in all the conversations we’ve had about this, you’ve never even mentioned the most exciting thing Josef said.”
Vanessa frowned, not sure what Steffie was talking about.
“That he thinks you have potential as a dancer?” Steffie said. “That if you practice a lot you might even get cast in The Firebird?”
“Right,” Vanessa said. “But that doesn’t make any sense either. There are tons of girls here who are just as good as I am, if not better. So what does Josef see in me?”
“Maybe he just thinks you’re good!” Steffie said, exasperated. She threw her hands up. “Maybe when he said you had potential, he actually meant it!”
“Who thinks you have potential?” Blaine said, popping up behind Steffie. He was wearing a tight T-shirt and black pants and clutching a notebook with his name written across it in bubble letters.
Steffie ignored him. “Why does everything have to mean something? Why can’t you just take him at his word?”
Blaine scurried behind them. “What are you guys talking about?” he asked. “Take who at his word?”
“Josef,” Vanessa said as they pushed through the glass doors and headed inside. “And fine,” she continued, looking at Steffie. “Maybe you’re right.”
Before the start of her last class, Vanessa was still turning Josef’s words around in her head when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She turned, thinking it was Steffie or TJ, only to see Zep looming above her. Startled, she jumped back, dropping her books.
“I—I’m sorry,” she said, her face growing red as she bent down to pick them up. Then she felt Zep beside her, his strong arms brushing against hers as he gathered her things.
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice deep and sonorous. “I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.” He clutched her books while students shuffled down the hall around them. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for weeks now, but I’ve been so busy with dance and class and …”
Anna, Vanessa whispered in her head, completing his sentence.
“Breaking up with my girlfriend.” He lowered his eyes.
“Oh,” she said, taken aback. “I—I didn’t know.”
“Now you do,” he said, his face vulnerable. He was about to continue when the bell rang, signaling the start of class.
Vanessa glanced over her shoulder at her teacher. “I have to go,” she said. “But thank you for the note. And for helping me with my books.”
A smile spread across his face as he handed Vanessa her things. “If you really wanted to thank me you could do me a favor.”
His hand brushed against hers, making her chest flutter. “That all depends on what it is.”
“Meet me Friday night at the fountain,” Zep said, his gaze traveling over her body, making her want to melt. Was Zep asking her out on a date?
Vanessa hugged her books to her chest like armor and gave him the beginning of a smile. “And then what?”
“That I can’t tell you. You’ll just have to take the risk.”
“Sounds like a two-part favor to me.”
Zep laughed. “Consider me indebted to you then. Eight o’clock?”
Vanessa nodded.
“Until Friday,” he said, his eyes soft.
“Friday,” she whispered.
Vanessa was still reeling when she slipped through the classroom door and collapsed in the seat next to Blaine and Steffie, who were arguing about which Balanchine ballet was the best while their teacher wrote on the board.
Vanessa was about to tell them about her encounter with Zep when TJ burst through the door and took the empty seat beside them.
“Did you see it yet?” she said.
Steffie and Blaine stopped talking. “See what?” Steffie asked.
“Elly’s message.”
“Really?” Vanessa asked.
“Where?” Blaine chimed in.
TJ pulled out her phone to display the open e-mail. It was sent to all of them as a group.
Hi, guys,
I’m sorry for not writing to you sooner. I was overwhelmed and homesick, and I knew it would be easier to leave without saying good-bye. I’m trying to live a normal life now, which means leaving dance and NYBA behind. If you could help me do this by not contacting me and reminding me of all I’ve given up, I would really appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Elly
None of them spoke as they read and reread her message. It was strange, cryptic; it sounded like her, but then it didn’t.
“She must really be freaking out,” Blaine said, his voice uncharacteristically somber. “I knew how upset she was after Josef reprimanded her, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
“Why didn’t she tell us?” TJ said, leaning on her desk. “We could have helped her.”
“Maybe it just wasn’t right for her here,” Steffie said pensively. “Josef did say that lots of people drop out every year.”
“But she was good,” Vanessa said, thinking of Margaret. “She wanted to be a dancer so badly.”
“So do lots of people,” Steffie said. “And yet, we’re the ones who are still here.” Even though Vanessa knew that what Steffie was saying made sense, something about Elly’s note didn’t seem right.
Their English teacher turned and held up a hand to silence everyone. Mrs. Jasper was an elegant woman, with a long face and wavy, ash-gray hair that reminded Vanessa of a horse’s mane.
“Myth and meaning,” she said in an aristocratic tone. “Together, they form the backbone of every story, every drama, every character who has ever flitted across the stage and enchanted us with a flounce of a skirt or a beautifully turned leg.” She stood behind her desk, gazing out at the class over her sloping nose. “After all, story and character are nothing but parts of myth. No?”
She continued lecturing about the history of mythology and how it gave birth to theater and drama, until the door opened
.
Justin stepped inside, his scarf loose around his neck, a pencil stuck behind one ear. He wasn’t carrying a bag or books. The Fratelli twins shuffled in behind him, their domineering figures filling the doorway.
He gave Mrs. Jasper a nonchalant gaze, barely acknowledging his tardiness. “We were meeting with Hilda,” he said, and handed her a note.
Mrs. Jasper skimmed it, gave him a stern nod, and turned back to the board. Justin peered around the room, searching for a seat, until his cool blue eyes rested on Vanessa.
Quickly, she lowered her gaze. Everything about Justin bothered her, from his windblown hair to the cocky way he strutted into the room, like he was better than everyone else. He had none of Zep’s mysterious charm. As if he knew she was thinking about him, he sat down directly behind her, the Fratelli twins on either side of him like bodyguards.
Vanessa shifted in her seat.
“Nice notebook,” he said over her shoulder.
Vanessa turned, only to find herself so close to Justin that she breathed the scent of his skin, which smelled fresh, like the sun rising over the ocean. Vanessa felt herself blush and looked away, trying to ignore the sliver of skin peeking from the collar of his shirt. She didn’t like it, she reminded herself. She didn’t like him.
“At least I have a notebook,” she said, and she turned to a blank page as Justin stretched his legs beneath her chair. She scowled and scooted her chair forward. “Why are you even here? Aren’t you a senior?”
“In maturity, yes. In grade, no.”
“What do you mean? You’re supposed to be in the same year as my sister.”
“I took a leave of absence. Kind of like she did.”
At that, Vanessa turned back to him. “She didn’t take a leave of absence. She ran away—”
“I know, I know. I’m kidding.”
Vanessa looked at him with scorn. “That’s my missing sister you’re making jokes about, not some random girl.”
The smile on Justin’s face faded. “I’m sorry.”
Vanessa faced the board. Justin leaned forward and said, “Please accept my apology.”
She focused on the board, ignoring him.
