Being Hartley

by Rushby, Allison

  We laugh and laugh at the thought of my poor father racing around Central Park not knowing what to do with a suddenly smelly baby as the movie continues playing on the TV in the background. And as I laugh, I feel the warmth of my mom beside me and know, despite our differences, that everything will be okay. We won't turn out like her and my grandmother. We won't even come close.

  -

  25 -

  I fall asleep at some point during the movie, and when I wake up, my mom is gone, the side of the bed she'd been on neatly tucked in, and I can see a sliver of light through the blackout curtains. I reach over to the bedside table for my cell and see that it's already eight thirty. There's also a text waiting for me from Rory.

  Checking in! TV thing now, signing with the team at 9, appearance at the pool 9:45. Practice with Noah 10:30. Live show at 2. Allie looking for trouble.

  This isn't exactly news—Allie is always looking for trouble. I think for a second before replying.

  Can't face pancakes again. Need to move. If you're busy, will take Allie to practice room for some fun at 10:30.

  Then I text Allie and let her know I'll meet her at her suite in half an hour.

  I throw some clothes on and bolt down the fruit plate Mom has ordered for me. She's left a note saying she's with Anna then has a meeting with Deb. When I'm done, I grab my cell and start down the hall to find Allie.

  When I knock on their suite door, it's Allie who opens up. I don't say anything, but tuck all my stuff under one arm and pull her in for a hug with the other. "Sorry for being an idiot," I say, when I pull back again. "It's just…" I sigh. "I don't know. I guess I'm going through some issues with my mom."

  "Hey," Allie says with a shrug. "Think of it as good timing. This is issue central. Coming in? I've just got to take my medication, and then we can go."

  I nod, and Allie holds the door open for me, then lets it close behind us. We start down the hallway, but then have to move into single file because of all the boxes. "What's all this…stuff?" I frown, looking around. "It looks like you're moving house."

  "Oh, it's Rory's," Allie says, not even glancing at it. "You know, gifts. People wanting her to endorse stuff. Let's see." She goes over to one side of the hallway, where the boxes are stacked halfway up to the ceiling. "We've got sneakers, stationery, makeup, clothes, more clothes, more makeup…oh! And candy. No one told me about that." She plucks the box out and tucks it under one arm. "Thank you very much."

  I stop in my tracks. "Are you serious? All this stuff has arrived just since we've been staying at the hotel?"

  "Of course." Allie turns back, giving me an odd look. "I bet if you go and look in Deb's suite, her hallway will look exactly the same. In fact, there'd probably be more. And better quality. Like racks of Valentino gowns or something."

  Huh. Maybe. I guess she's right. After all, I know this stuff exists. I know it happens. I've just never seen it in real life before. I follow Allie into the kitchen where she takes her medication. She grabs a towel and a water bottle, and we're ready to go. I hold the door open with my foot as she races around, trying to find her wallet and a bag. "You've got tunes?" she yells out at me.

  "Yes!" I yell back.

  "Great." She comes racing back out again. "We should have about forty-five minutes before Rory and Noah need the room, so let's go."

  * * *

  In the elevator, I start to wonder if I should tell Allie about Noah or not. The funny thing is, after what happened with Noah, I suddenly get what Rory was trying to tell me yesterday. It's sort of private. And I don't feel like broadcasting what went on between us, because the things Noah told me—I don't think he's told them to many people. But I also don't want Allie to find out herself, either. And with the interesting security contacts she seems to have up her sleeve, it's probably better that I tell her now.

  "Um, Allie," I say, trying to sound nonchalant. "What do you think of Noah?"

  "Noah?" she says, glancing over at me. "Noah's great. You know that. Why?"

  "What would you think about Noah…and me?"

  She jumps around on the spot now, her eyes wide. "What about Noah and you? What are you saying?" She grabs both my arms.

  "Calm down! I was just…asking what you'd think, that's all. It's not like anything's really happened."

  "Something's happened? What? What?! Wait. You're not keeping things from me as well, are you?" The elevator dings and, with the quickest glance ever, Allie reaches over and holds the doors open, but doesn't get out.

  "No, of course not. I'm telling you, aren't I?"

  Her eyes narrow. "I don't know. Are you?"

  "All right," I sigh. "I might have kissed him."

  Allie's jaw drops. "Hang on. This wasn't assault, was it? Did he kiss you back?"

  "Well, yes."

  "He didn't run away, repulsed? He didn't call security?"

  "No! Thanks for asking!" I pick her arm off me.

  Allie stands there in silence and shakes her head for a minute or so. "Wow. You and…Noah. That's weird."

  "Why?" I frown.

  "Because he could have anyone!" Allie says, looking impressed. "And he went for you!"

  * * *

  "Do you really know where you're going?" I ask Allie as we finally make our way out of the elevator and twist and turn our way through the corridors of the Bellagio.

  "Yep. I've been down here with Rory before on another trip. It's a meeting room, but they fit it out with mirrors and a portable floating floor."

  I throw her a look. "Are you serious?"

  "What can I say? It's a serious show. By the way, just so you know, Dad's got a meeting at ten thirty, but I think I'm supposed to check that Rory's cool with the practice session—that everything seems okay."

  I slow down slightly. "What do you mean?"

  "Rory's told you a bit about the new look of the show, right?"

  I nod.

  "Well, they've got this new choreographer for it, and they haven't really had a chance to work with him yet. But he's here in Las Vegas, so he's taking everyone through their paces while he's here."

  "Oh," I say. "And Rory's not okay with it?"

  "I think the routine he's come up with for them is kind of hammering things home for her. It's a bit…sexy. Even for the new-look SMD. Apparently, it's to go hand in hand with some new dance movie that'll be coming out in the fall."

  "Yikes."

  "Yeah, I think 'yikes' about covers it. Anyway, the room's just down here." Allie points to the end of the corridor. When we get down there, she pushes open the door. "After you, lover girl…" she says, letting me pass through and then walking straight into my back when I come to a halt immediately inside the door. "Ow," she says. "Hey, what's…" She finally spots the problem herself—the Mara-sized problem in the middle of the room.

  Mara crosses the floor and turns the music that's playing down low.

  "Sorry," I say quickly, with a wave of one hand. "We didn't think anyone would be here because of the signing thing."

  "Yes, well, that's just for the 'real' dancers," Mara replies, giving us a dirty look. "Sorry about that misunderstanding at the show yesterday." She glances at Allie as if butter wouldn't melt.

  Allie hesitates for only a millisecond. "Oh, that. Yes, it was awfully silly of me to think that you were pointing at me, wasn't it!" Allie guffaws. "I'm such a moron. Lucky it was you the misunderstanding was with…"

  There's a pause before Mara takes the bait. "And why's that?" She tries to sound bored, but fails.

  "Well, it would have been even more embarrassing if it was one of the 'real' dancers!" Allie puts on her most sincere expression.

  Allie: 1, Mara: 0.

  I try not to snort, but I'm sure a small noise must escape, because Mara whips around to face me. "Um, hey, I know that song," I say, changing the topic inelegantly.

  "Really," Mara says, obviously not believing me.

  "It would have been out, er…two years ago," I add, silently counting backward. "I loved t
hat song. What happened to her? I haven't heard anything new for ages."

  Mara stares at me, realizing I do know the artist, and for a split second, she almost looks impressed. Even, maybe, kind of…human. Like you could have a conversation with her or something.

  "You should check her out on YouTube," she says, eventually. "She does these amazing covers and…" She trails off. "Not that she has a lot of choice. She wasn't popular enough, so she got frozen out of the recording industry. Unlike some people, she understands the ups and downs of working in entertainment. Anyway, I've got to go."

  And with that, Mara picks up her towel and her few other bits and pieces and brushes past us, without a backward glance.

  When she's gone, I frown at Allie. "What was that supposed to mean?"

  Allie shakes her head at me. "Geez, what do you need? Subtitles or something? She meant that you have it easy, peasy, lemon squeezy because you're a Hartley."

  "Ha!" I laugh. It's not feeling like this lately.

  "Exactly," Allie replies, looking at the closed door that Mara departed from. "Still, better to be a Hartley than a deranged lunatic. Seriously, I worry when I stay in hotels with her. I always get the feeling I'll wake up in the middle of the night and she'll be standing over me with a knife in her hand. Or maybe a Hartley Oscar, stolen for the specific purpose of beating me to death."

  I shudder. "Anyway, she's gone now. Wanna dance?"

  Allie links arms with me and pulls me further into the room. "You bet."

  * * *

  Just before ten thirty, Rory and Noah arrive.

  "Having fun?" Rory takes in our sweaty, red faces as she breezes through the door. She gives me a sly wink, and I realize I'm not going to have to confess anything to her like I did to Allie—Noah's already told her what's been going on.

  "It looks like it," Noah says, following her into the room. "What're you guys up to?"

  Allie glances at me. "I'm not telling them, it's too tragic."

  I shrug. Hey, I'm used to embarrassing myself. "You know that guy on YouTube that does the 'Evolution of Dance' thing? The comedian?"

  "Oh, yeah!" Noah says. "He's hilarious. I love that guy!"

  "I might have, sort of, a little bit…okay, so I know the whole thing by heart now."

  Noah laughs. "The whole thing?"

  Okay, now I'm truly ashamed of myself. But I'm also secretly pleased Noah thinks this is funny in a good way. Still laughing, Noah starts toward me, but then stops as the door opens again, and everyone turns to survey the two people who enter—a super-cool guy dressed in baggy but expensive-looking gray sweat pants, a white T-shirt, and a gray felt fedora.

  And Sonja.

  Her eyes are on me in a second.

  Time to scram.

  "Hi, Sonja," I say, acknowledging the other guy with a nod of my head. "I guess we should be going," I say to Allie.

  "Of course not!" Sonja booms, all smile and teeth. Geez, but she reminds me of the Big Bad Wolf. "Why don't you stay and watch? I'm sure you'd be interested in seeing Matt's choreography. It's amazing."

  "I…" I glance at Allie, who seems pretty calm about all of this. Unlike me, she's not quite so scared of Big Bad Sonja.

  "I insist." Sonja takes a step closer to me.

  When Sonja insists, I don't think saying no is really an option.

  "Um, okay then," I gulp.

  * * *

  Sonja's right. Matt's choreography is amazing. However, unfortunately, Allie's also right—it's pushing the SMD boundaries. The old ones, anyway, because this is hot stuff. The coming months are obviously going to bring a whole new world for SMD, with a new time slot and rating to go with it. The routine they're learning today is about as far from old school SMD as you can get.

  Poor Rory looks really, really uncomfortable with the whole thing, and the session stops and starts as she seemingly tries to get a grip on her new role. After a while, Allie and I retreat to a corner of the room and try out a few of the more difficult moves ourselves, to keep ourselves occupied and out of the way and to see if we can even get them down.

  As the session wears on, Sonja gets increasingly frustrated at all the stopping and starting and begins to intervene. "Come on, Rory," she says, at one point. "I know you're tired, but we're all tired." She sighs a long sigh, before turning to the choreographer. "Let's take it from the top again and see if we can get something decent out of them this time."

  "Sonja…" Noah speaks up now.

  But Rory, interjects. "Let's just get it over and done with," she says, and Noah lets the subject drop.

  Another fifteen minutes or so passes, and Rory's energy really starts to flag. I'm starting to get worried about her when Sonja speaks over the music. "For goodness sake, go and get something to eat."

  Allie and I stop what we're doing. "Did you want me to go and get you something?" I say to Rory. "It wouldn't take long. I'll run."

  Everyone stares at me now.

  "Well, you look like you've got a bit of that Hartley get up and go I'm after," Sonja says to me, from across the room.

  "I, um…" I'm sorry I spoke now.

  "I've been watching you over there in that corner. Why don't you come over here for a minute?" She beckons me to her with a wave of her hand.

  Reluctantly, I start toward Sonja. As I pass by Rory and Noah, I give them both "save me" looks. Whatever Sonja wants, I have a feeling it can't be good.

  "Yes?" I say when I get to her.

  "Take a seat, Rory." Sonja pulls out a chair from beside the wall. "Thea's going to take your place for a moment."

  -

  26 -

  "You're not serious?" I say. I glance down at Rory, who's now sitting in the chair that Sonja's provided, then back up at Sonja again, who's smiling that scary smile at me.

  "Very much so! You danced so beautifully with Noah the other day, I thought it might be nice for you both to get together again. There's certainly chemistry there. It must be a Hartley thing. You're a good match."

  My heart is beating madly in my chest now, but the weird thing is, it's different this time. Different from the other day, when Noah had asked me to dance with him and it had been beating like crazy in anticipation. Now it's beating out a different tune in my body. One that's making my gut slightly queasy and also annoyed that I didn't listen to it earlier and bolt like it had told me to do. I check Rory's expression, but I don't care what it looks like, I already know what my answer is.

  "No," I say, shaking my head. "I don't think so."

  "It's okay, Thea." Rory looks up at me briefly. She seems generally over life. "I don't mind. Whatever she wants." She flips a hand at Sonja, who gives her a cool stare in return.

  "See?" Sonja's attention moves back to me. "There's no problem."

  But there is. And it's with me. Every single cell in my body feels confused. Here I am, standing in a dance studio, being asked to partner up with Noah Hoffman and dance some hot new choreography. And I want to say no. It's not really in my make-up to say no to dancing with Noah Hoffman. But I'm going to. Because it just doesn't feel right to say yes. Noah doesn't look too impressed with Sonja's suggestion, either. And I don't think it's anything to do with dancing with me again.

  "I'm not…comfortable with that." I'm not even sure where to look now, so I stare at a spot on the floor and mumble my words.

  "Are we going to keep going, or not?" the choreographer speaks up. He hasn't spoken much during this session, but when he has, I can see why he's Sonja's best buddy. He's almost as rude and obnoxious as she is.

  "Noah, Thea, please. It's fine," Rory says.

  My eyes meet hers then, and I see how truly worn out she looks. I also see that she knows why I'm protesting. But right now, she doesn't have the fight in her to take Sonja on. She only wants this problem to go away as soon as possible. "Just do it. For me. Both of you."

  So, I do.

  I dance with Noah Hoffman. For a third time. But, this time, even though the conditions are excellent—we have a bea
utiful semi-sprung floor, a wide wall of mirrors, a world-class choreographer, and SMD's producer instructing us—somehow it's not nearly the same. There's not the fun and the spontaneous laughter we had the first time, at the Bellagio fountain. There's not the connection we felt yesterday, during the audience participation segment of the live show as we fed off each other's energy. This time, it's plain hard work—the choreographer counting, us sweating, and a kind of nervousness about being watched.

  It's hard work, but Sonja's right about one thing—there's something there, between the two of us. And it's not the hot moves. We could be doing the chicken dance, and it would still be there. It's chemistry. I've only ever felt it with a few people I've danced with over the years, but with Noah, it's instantaneous, like flicking a switch. And it's the strongest I've ever felt it, by far. As we dance, I can feel Noah watching me, checking to see if I'm okay. But I can't meet his eye, because if I do, I don't think I'll be able to get through this. I've just got to do what needs to be done for Rory's sake and then get out.

  Allie and I had been working on several moves at the back of the room, as well as observing Rory and Noah, so it doesn't take me long to get up to speed. After our third run-through, I've actually got most of the routine down, to my surprise. As we keep going, Rory watches, her face blank.

  "Nice," Sonja says, seeming unimpressed, even though Noah and I have just worked our guts out for her. We stop now and take a breather. "But it needs a lot more work to be even close to the standard we're looking for on the new show."

  "A lot more," the choreographer seconds. As I contemplate his words, I get this weird feeling I'm being introduced to what my mom, Rory, Noah, and Asher have all been gabbing about. I start to imagine Rory's day-to-day—working long, hard hours with people she can't stand who only want the best out of her professionally and the worst for her personally.

  I check out Rory one more time. "Well. I think that might be enough," I say. "Rory looks a bit better now."