“I bet she hurt Cassie, too!” Gigi shouts.
Alec catches her flailing hands, holds them still. He looks deep into her eyes, trying to make her focus. “I don’t want to talk about Cassie, okay? Or any of this,” Alec says, ending that conversation.
Gigi takes a massive breath to calm herself. A light pink washes her cheeks. A deep discomfort. “I’m sorry,” she says, first in my direction and then again, even more desperately, to Alec. “I’m sorry. I’m getting upset. I just—I’m scared. I don’t like being here. But you’re right.” She is a pretty crier, of course. Tears fall down her cheeks in gorgeous patterns, her eyes go cloudy, and her lashes are dotted with dampness. Ethereal. Fairylike. She licks her full lips and Alec brings his hands to her face, uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears.
Seeing them like that reminds me of the way Jayhe looks at me, kisses me. I immediately want to call Jayhe, talk out what I’ve discovered. My father has been here all this time.
“Okay,” Alec says. “Okay. I know. What’s happened to you is terrible. Stuff like that has happened in the past. It’s happened a lot to other dancers,” he says. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise. We’ll both look out for you. June and I.” He looks at me like we really are a team, that we are all family. “And I’ll help you get to the bottom of it all after the performance. We need to focus.”
“You’re right,” she says finally, her breath still shaky, a tremor still visible through her sturdy frame. “Maybe I need to stop thinking about this, to stop letting it fester.” She leans into him again, and the shaking stops, at least for a moment. “What I need is a clean slate, a fresh start. A new focus.”
That sounds like the old Gigi, optimistic and happy and light. It pinches a little, to hear the sweetness return to her voice so quickly, to know that mine will never be that bright. That in the end, despite everything that’s happened, she’s still won. She’s still the girl who has it all—the prima role, the important boyfriend, the happiness seeping out of her pores as her skin glistens like gold. In the end, she’s lost nothing.
Maybe the brightness is what I need, a little light to guide me out of the darkness. Maybe I’m the one who’s cracked, who’s lost my way, in all of this. How could I do what I did? How could I not realize? Shame and regret rise up like bile in my throat, and I excuse myself to get ready for the preshow party.
“We’ll celebrate tonight!” I tell Gigi and Alec as I leave, like it really is the three of us against the world, like we’re really friends. But as I gather my things, I’m the one who’s shaking. Neither of them acknowledged what I said. They’ve drifted off in their own little world. Because deep down inside, I know. I don’t have friends. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll have something better soon. Family.
Long strands of lights glitter along the inside of the Koch Theater, where the company had its annual spring gala the opening night of the season in early May. But tonight is the conservatory’s turn. Tuxedoed waiters dole out champagne, sparkling cider, and tiny little appetizers that sit on golden trays like unopened gifts. Everyone is all dolled up in their black-tie finest, the ballerinas letting their hair down after months of having it pulled tight in buns. The whole grand event is like a release for all of us, the night before our Giselle performance. The ballerinas and their parents all talk loudly about the artistic directors that will be at opening night tomorrow, and how they’re all going to do their pirouettes better and improve their variations.
I focus on all the faces around me, looking for my mother. I scan for her dark, bobbed hair and one of the long pencil skirts she’s probably wearing. I’d left her a message about the spring gala and I know she got the official Giselle performance invitation in the mail. She never comes. Part of me wants her here. I am alone in the crowd with no one to talk to besides a waiter who won’t get the hint that I don’t care about how delicious the salmon croquettes are.
The crowd shifts around me, like I’m nothing more than one of the hors d’oeuvres tables, as I remain silent. I see a woman with short, dark hair, and I give the waiter my best imitation of an apologetic smile before running toward the woman. It’s my mother. And a tiny part of me is glad she showed up. Maybe she changed her mind about pulling me from the conservatory. Maybe she’ll entertain me staying.
“Mom,” I say, grabbing her arm.
The woman yanks her arm away and turns around. When she sees me, she frowns. And I know my mistake. Hye-Ji’s mother, not mine, glares back at me. She calls me a nuisance in Korean. That word I know, having grown up hearing it from my own mother. All the Korean mothers glare at me, including Sei-Jin’s mom. They are in one large clump.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Then I back up, banging into others. I take off again through the crowd. My heart races at a new pace. I dash away to the farthest corner, where no one can find me.
I am alone.
I am always the understudy.
I am the dancer who gets cast in the tiny roles.
I reach for my phone to send a text to Jayhe. He hasn’t responded all day, which shouldn’t surprise me. But it still hurts. That day, with his dad and his friends, I thought things had shifted. I thought we were real. Since then, though, we’re back to late-night chats and unanswered texts. I bet Sei-Jin has gotten to him. Told him about Gigi. Told him that I’m unstable, that I pushed her. He probably thinks I’m damaged and dangerous.
Maybe I am.
When I was with Jayhe, I was the sexy, special, dangerous ballerina. The sob in my throat threatens to explode. I put a hand there, trying to hold it in.
I snatch a flute of something sparkling—champagne or cider, I’m not sure—off a tray and down it. The bubbles go straight to my head, and my limbs feel looser immediately. I grab another flute, despite the waiter’s lifted eyebrows, a warning. This one I sip as I float around the gala, watching the other guests mix and mingle.
I gulp the champagne and snatch up another. Mr. Lucas stands in the corner, talking to some patrons, his pretty blond wife resting a well-manicured hand on his arm, quiet and polite and insipid. I think about what Alec said, and wonder if it might be true. I ponder the planes of his face—his sharp nose, the same long forehead, and wonder if I might have found my answer, if he was right there all along. But if it’s true, then how can he ignore me, standing right there? How can he not sense my pain and reach out? How could he have watched me all these years and said nothing? I take another sip of the champagne and start toward him, my stride determined. As I hover, just a few feet away, the wife, her bottle blond too brassy, her eyes shallow, cuts me down with a glare. “No shoptalk tonight, darling,” she says under her breath. “Mr. Lucas has bigger fish to fry.”
I want to be bold, to ignore her, to plow forward, but the bitch delicately steers Mr. Lucas away, toward another patron. That’s when I hear that familiar giggle.
Alec and Gigi are being stupid, twirling a little and laughing. She seems light as air, as if she took her earlier words to heart. As if she’s forgotten everything. I wish it were that easy for me. I wish I could forget. Let go. Or, of course, have the guts to finally take the other option. The one I try not to think about, but the one that keeps turning up in my thoughts: Get rid of Gigi.
As the bubbles slosh in my stomach, I realize I’m ravenous. I grab a canapé from a passing tray, then a second. The pit of my stomach still rumbles like the subway, so I head over to the buffet spread. Lots of salads, platters of meat and cheese, bruschetta and little pot stickers. I pile a plate high with food, sick to my stomach just looking at it. Which is good, right? I can’t afford to keep it down anyway.
I’m about to take a bite when I hear a snicker. “There she goes again.” Sei-Jin’s voice pierces my ears, my soul. “Drowning your sorrows in dumplings, E-Jun?” She points down the hall. “That’s the nearest bathroom,” she adds, laughing. “You know, for when you’re done.”
“Sei-Jin!” Jayhe silences her with a withering look, but he doesn’t come to my defense. I should have known he’d be here with Sei-Jin.
Furious, I take my plate and storm away, too exhausted to deal with her again. She wins. She can have him. He follows, his arm grazing mine as he tries to stop me, but I’m too angry to indulge him, too humiliated to give any of them the satisfaction. I walk out onto the terrace and sit at an empty table, picking at my plate. Jayhe follows and plunks down in the chair next to me. “I’ve missed you,” he says, whispering close to my ear.
I look up at him. “Oh, yeah? So why haven’t you responded to my texts?” I ask, despite myself. I can feel the heat burning my cheeks.
“She knows,” he says, his voice still low. “I shouldn’t be out here at all.”
I rise, the anger billowing around me. “Then forget about me. Leave me alone. Go back to Sei-Jin and your cozy little relationship,” I say, practically spitting as I start to walk away. But he pulls me back, grabbing my arm, his grip tight, his familiarity making my skin flame. “Oh, yeah,” I say, the hate changing my voice to something unrecognizable. “But I’d give you something she never will,” I say. “Too bad you can’t have it both ways.”
He’s so shocked he doesn’t stop me when I walk away this time. But Sei-Jin’s at the door of the terrace, watching us, a look of sheer terror on her face. “Don’t worry,” I say, the menace still tainting my voice. “I didn’t tell your secret. Not yet, anyway.”
Heading back into the party, I grab another flute of champagne, determined to drown all this out, at least for tonight. I’m sick of second place, of always being the understudy. I need to do something about it, once and for all.
40
Gigi
ALEC GIVES ME A GLASS of champagne, and we clink the glasses together. He kisses me.
“I have something for you,” he says. “It’ll make you feel better.”
I blush and try to put on a happy face, when really I feel like I’m falling down a giant hole and can’t stop. “What is it?” I try to sound excited. I should be excited. It’s a gift. He thought of me.
He pulls a necklace from his pocket. A tiny silver disk hangs from an antique chain. It catches the light. It’s beautiful. Even more beautiful than the little rose charm he gave me. The one that went missing months ago. The one I haven’t had the heart to tell him about.
“Alec,” I say, feeling all choked up, mostly from the sadness and having all these emotions I don’t know what to do with.
“It was my mom’s,” he says, turning me around. He lifts my curls and clasps the necklace on me and the cool metal is soothing against my neck. “My mother left this behind, and before that it was her grandmother’s necklace. I wanted you to have it.”
I press my fingers on it, feeling its enormous weight. “I don’t know what to say.” And I really don’t. I want to jump up into his arms and kiss him all over his face. But I can’t pull out that feeling inside me.
“Just wear it,” he says. “And smile.”
I kiss his cheek. My parents wave at me from across the room. I saw them earlier for brunch. They are brown dots in a sea of white. Aunt Leah’s hair is big and curly, but my mother’s is surprisingly pulled into a bun. “I want you to meet my parents,” I say, dragging him off.
He follows me as we move through the crowd, our hands clasped.
“Hey,” I say.
“That’s our girl,” my dad says, grabbing me first. I smell coffee and feel his beard rub against my cheek. His eyes are warm and brown, and he’s got on his one and only suit. Mama hugs me next and she smells like home—mango and incense. I’ve missed both of them, but loved living on my own. And their embraces make me feel like crying and pouring out everything that’s happened. But I swallow it down. It would just alarm them. Give them cause to pull me out of school. As if they didn’t already think they had enough reason.
“Hey, kid,” my aunt Leah says. “I’ve missed your face.” She holds my hand and squeezes it. “Can’t wait to see you in Giselle, Giselle!” She tries to make me laugh.
“I want you to meet someone.” I pull Alec to my side. “This is Alec.”
My dad sizes him up, and I see Alec swallow. Little beads of sweat collect on his brow, and he bites his lips, which I’ve never seen him do before. It’s kind of cute.
“Oh, is this the boy you kissed at the end of The Nutcracker?” Aunt Leah teases.
“Aunt Leah!” I say, feeling hot.
“Is that true?” my mother says, turning to Alec. He grins at her, and I know she’s probably going to love him as much as I do. “We were wondering about that.”
“It was the tiniest, most respectful kiss,” Alec teases.
“Well then . . .” She opens her arms and gives Alec a huge embrace.
When they part, my mama pulls me to the side while my dad speaks with Alec. “Why aren’t you wearing your monitor?” she asks. “And what’s wrong? I can see it all in your eyes.”
“Nothing, Mama. I’m fine. And so is my health. I’m not wearing my monitor because I’m not dancing right now,” I say. Her concern compiles with the stress I already feel.
She tsk-tsks. “I’m concerned, Gigi. I mean, I’m happy about all this and how well you’re doing, but I want you to not lose sight of what’s most important. Your health. This really worries me. And I feel like you’re hiding something,” she says, like she’s been burrowing in my mind, reading my thoughts.
“Aren’t you always worrying?” I ask, craning my neck to hear what my dad is saying to Alec. I give her a tiny kiss on the cheek and flash her an everything-is-all-right smile.
“Well, this is why I brought this!” She pulls out a thin wristband. It’s flat and resembles one of the bands you get at a theme park entrance, only it has a digital face. “It vibrates if you’re in a danger zone.”
I frown. “Mama!”
“Gigi, I need you to do this for me.” She takes my wrist, and I let her put it on. “My biggest nightmare is that you don’t take this whole thing seriously. That you push yourself too hard. I was holding my breath the whole time during The Nutcracker, and I know I’ll be doing the same for Giselle. Scared that it will be too much exertion.”
“I’m fine,” I say, trying to ease back to Alec and Dad and Aunt Leah.
“Just wear it for me. It’ll put my mind at ease.” She kisses my forehead and rubs my cheek. “You look beautiful. I can see the changes in you. A real ballerina.” Her face is warm with delight and approval.
I put it on my wrist. “Happy?”
She smiles. We return to the conversation. Nothing about that exchange made me feel any better. Mama takes hold of my dad’s hand.
“And what’s that beautiful necklace you’re wearing?” Aunt Leah asks.
I show off Alec’s family heirloom. My dad twirls me around a little and I catch Bette’s icy gaze on us. And the gaze of the woman standing next to her with her same cheekbones and upright posture. Mrs. Abney, her mother. Any momentary lift I experienced disappears.
I freeze and then quickly turn around. My hand goes to my neck and I feel a need to hide the necklace from sight. I try to continue to listen to my parents chat with Alec, but I feel the Abneys’ eyes burning into my back. Will saunters up and gives me and Alec a big hug. But Alec is too distracted by my dad to talk to Will, who looks a little hurt.
Will pulls me to the side. “Just wanted to check on you. After, you know, everything. The butterflies.” His words land soft, but I feel the tears welling up inside me. How will I tell my dad about them? What am I supposed to say? The truth? Will takes a glass of champagne from a waiter’s passing tray.
I mutter thanks. “I’m putting it all behind me.”
He touches my neck and the necklace Alec gave me. “You know he loves you, right?” He glances behind us at Alec.
I nod my head.
/> He doesn’t look at me anymore. “The way he loves you is the way I love him.” His admission makes me feel instantly sadder. I wonder if Alec knows. I open my mouth to respond, but I’m empty.
Will must see that on my face, because he touches the necklace one last time. “So pretty. Be careful.” Then he bolts without waiting around for a response.
Bette walks by my parents. My stomach twists with dread. I remember what Alec told me about her and her mama and all their issues. I hold my breath as she passes us by.
“Oh, Gigi, who’s that girl?” My mama points at Bette and reaches out for her. She touches her shoulder.
“Um, Mama, no!” I say too late.
“You were just lovely in The Nutcracker, young lady,” my mama says. “I didn’t get to tell you that after the show. I know it’s been months. But I thought you should know.”
“Why, thank you,” Bette answers politely, her big blue eyes looking doelike and sweet.
Alec shifts uncomfortably. I flatten my hand over the necklace. A long pause stretches between us all. Everyone says hi to her and I know I should’ve introduced her more quickly.
“Mama, Dad, Aunt Leah, this is Bette Abney,” I say at last.
“Gigi’s one of our best dancers,” Bette blurts, and they all soak up her praise. “So glad you could come all the way out here from California to see our performance. ”
Her compliment feels genuine, but she’s as fake as a plastic doll.
“We wouldn’t have missed it,” my dad boasts, pulling me into another embrace.
“You look like a ballerina from a music box,” my mama says, touching Bette’s arm.
“Doesn’t she?”
Bette squeezes my mama’s hand and acts as if they’ve known each other forever. My mama has just called her perfect.
“I’m so glad you’ve got friends out here, Gigi,” my mama says, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “It was one of my other worries. Now I don’t have to as much. Even though you know I will. But you’ve got both Alec and . . . what did you say your name was again, honey?” My mama turns to Bette.
Tiny Pretty Things Page 32
