by Tonya Plank
“Okay, so after the rag doll, the leader brings the follower back up, close to him, and then the follower does, let’s say, three spins out away from her leader. We’ll turn left and then the guy—I mean the leader—will follow her, catch up, and do a long lunge while holding her from behind around the waist. She can fall back into him and lift her right leg up, développé it up into the air. And then she’ll—I mean the follower…damn.” I had to keep reminding myself we had a same sex pair on the team. What was wrong with me?
“It’s okay, sir,” Kendra said with a loopy smile. “You don’t have to worry about political correctness with me and Jos. Just say guy and girl.”
Josie nodded. “But thanks anyway,” she added with a little laugh.
“You sure?” I said.
“Of course.” Kendra walked over to me and gave my arm a firm pat. “You’re a good guy, man.”
“Well, thank you, Ma’am. I try.” I’m sure my smile came off more crooked and cocky than I’d meant it to. It was my natural grin. In my periphery I could see Arabelle rolling her eyes.
“Okay, anyway, after she does her slow sultry leg lift, the guy turns her around in his arms, by the waist, and she turns to him. He lunges toward her and she lifts her leg up in back, in a pretty arabesque.”
“That’s a lot of leg lifting. What if not everyone has the same flexibility?” Arabelle said. “Or the same ability to hold the other person?”
She was met with a sea of stares. I’d choreographed something pretty and she wanted to change it. But damn if she wasn’t right. It wouldn’t look good if everyone’s leg was going up at a different angle.
“Fair enough. Let’s try it and see how it looks. I extended my hand toward her. At first she looked at it and frowned. Then she came toward me, took my hand. Her palm was a bit wet and there was a kind of vibration in her wrist, but no tremor. I wondered if this was how they began.
“Okay, let’s start with the spins. I’ll count.”
Everyone did the spins out, on beat. The guys all lunged, but since people were different heights, the spacing was a bit off. No biggie, I’d fix it. And the women lifted their legs at different rates of speed, so we’d have to choreograph that to the beats. But happily, once everyone had their leg in the air as far up as possible, it was clear that we had a flexible group. When I directed all the women to put their legs in the air at the same time and arch their backs over the guys’ supporting hands, all the legs were at nearly the same height in the air.
“Awesome!” I was a bit shocked, but happily so. There was often someone in the group who couldn’t do it exactly as the others did, but that wasn’t the case here. When I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t help but focus on my gorgeous partner. Her leg was still the longest. Of course. But that was okay. Everyone knew we were the pros, and therefore the focal point.
“Okay, now turn your partners around,” I said.
This got a little sloppy, understandably. A lot of the guys didn’t know how to rotate the woman by the waist. And they weren’t supposed to. They were supposed to lead it, then let the girl follow through on her own.
“Okay, we’ll have to work on this. Let’s just continue. Ladies, lift your right leg back now in arabesque.”
At first it was a mess. Everyone went at a different rate of speed and made a different shape.
So I directed the women to arch their backs and just raise their leg a bit off the floor, holding their arms back to look like they were flying. They all did so. This was gorgeous, with everyone raising at the same height now.
“You know what would look so awesomely cool right here?” Kendra piped.
“What?” I asked.
“If the guy, or the leader, you know, would take the woman over his head right here, and she could do that same move, with her arms spread out behind her like a bird but this time off the ground. I’ve seen it done and it’s awesome!”
“You’re so right. It is an awesome lift!” Judy squealed.
“The bird is beautiful,” I agreed.
“You’re not serious.” Arabelle put her foot back on the floor and came out of her position, backing away from me.
I nodded, indicating both that I was serious and that I understood what she was freaking out about. Yes, it was hard and dangerous. But yes, it was also gorgeous.
“That’s incredibly hard on the lifting student’s back. Especially…” Arabelle said, eyeing Kendra.
“Oh come on,” Kendra said. “We’ve already been through this before with the fish dives. I can totally do it!” she said pumping her fist in the air. “Come on, A! Don’t be a party pooper!”
“We could do it very quickly. And the follower wouldn’t have to go entirely overhead. If the leader just straightened his or her arms for a split second,” I said.
“A split second, A!” Kendra echoed me.
Arabelle took a deep breath. “First, I’m not being a party pooper, Kendra. I’m just making sure no one gets hurt. Second…” She seemed to forget what she was going to say. She threw her arms up at me.
What? I thought without saying anything.
“What’s the purpose then of putting it in for a split second? Just to show everyone can do a crazy trick. There’s no meaning in it then.”
I didn’t know exactly what she was saying. Yes, it was to show the leaders were strong, the women were flexible and we could do something challenging all in sync. Isn’t that what dance competitions were supposed to test? When I expressed as much, she stomped her foot and walked away, fuming.
“Ms. A, come on!” Kendra said, chuckling. “Don’t go anywhere. We need you!”
Arabelle circled the room, breathing deeply, before walking back to Kendra.
“Okay, you know, if you say I can’t do it, then how about all of us students just hold our partners with their leg on the ground, maybe one slightly lifted off, and you two do that crazy cool lift overhead. That way you can take your time and Jett can hold you up in the air and you can lift your back leg super high, maybe both legs? You can just do anything that is super cool and shows what awesome shapes you can make with your miraculous body, A. And that tells a good story set to this beautiful music!”
Not a bad idea at all. Kendra was a smart girl, a natural born choreographer. I nodded, raising my eyebrows at Arabelle. She glared and shook her head.
“That’s an excellent idea!” Samantha said.
“Totally,” Judy chimed.
“I third it. Or fourth, wherever we are,” Josie said.
I shot Arabelle my cocky, looks-like-you’re-outnumbered grin.
“And then, and then—” Kendra cracked me up. She was so on a roll. “And then Jett can slowly stand up with you above him like that! I’ve seen that and it’s awesome! And then he can go to one hand only! Holding you all the way up by only one hand!”
That was similar to the lift Arabelle did with Willem, and that I’d done with Belinda at the studio party. I could so do it. And she was so right. It would be an awesome lift. Arabelle’s gorgeously flexible body balancing up there on my one hand, me holding her up, showing my all strength.
Arabelle’s mouth fell completely open and she rolled her eyes then looked to the ceiling. What was wrong?
“What’s your objection, Arabelle?” I said, my voice now sounding beleaguered. It was such an awesome idea.
She harrumphed, and finally spoke after a few beats. “Dance is about art, about storytelling. You’re just stringing tricks together.”
Ugh. Back to that haughty ballet attitude. I’m such an artiste, you’re just a trickster. Yes, that’s exactly how it is; I’m a total phony. “Well, that’s how you win competitions, isn’t it?” I said.
She opened her mouth but I was a quick thinker and I knew what she wanted to hear. Before she could say anything, I added, “but you’re right, we will make it fit the story line. And here it does, because she is telling her lover not to be afraid in this part. So, that’s like me telling you to take a risk, stretch your ar
ms out and lift your legs up and trust me with your weight, your body, so that you look like you’re soaring. There’s no more perfect move to set those lyrics to, when you think about it.”
She thought it over for a few beats. And the more she thought the more she realized I was right about telling a story to the music. Each movement, each sequence, and each lift should tell a story. And this string of movements, or so-called tricks, would do just that. They went along perfectly with the music, with the passions both the music and lyrics evoked.
The class-is-over buzz sounded. We were done for the day. But, she brought her head down and looked me straight in the eye. I could read her thoughts now. She knew I was right. And she was going to give in. She was going to do it. She was going to let me lift her.
Chapter 16
Arabelle
“What exactly are you afraid of?” Dr. Marsh asked me. After Alessia had paid me for my first week of working with the team, I had a bit more money to go back to my shrink.
“Afraid?” I shook my head. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Are you sure about that?” She looked at me straight on, her dark eyes full of seriousness.
“Yes. I’m just really annoyed at him. He has no respect for artistry. He’s a…he’s a charlatan, a trickster. He only wants to wow the audience, without moving them, without bringing any meaning or emotion to the performance.”
“But you told me he thought the lift would be moving because the words were from one lover to the other not to be afraid to trust, to soar.”
“Yes, but … he made that up on the spot just to get me to do it. I swear, I could see his beady little eyes thinking, scheming.” His eyes were anything but beady though. His eyes were deep brown and full of wonder and depth. Eyes you could get lost in. Damn those eyes.
She smiled and pursed her lips.
“What?” I said.
“Are you afraid, Arabelle? I want you to think seriously about that over the next week. Because I think you are. That’s what I’m hearing. I want you to figure out what exactly you’re afraid of.”
“Please. I’ve done that same lift and many far more difficult ones a bazillion times. He thinks it’s such a hard lift; that one’s easy. Please.”
“You’ve done harder ones in prior showcases?”
“Yes, yes, yes. With…” I felt a sting in the back of my eyes.
She nodded, as if acknowledging my pain. But she didn’t look away to give me a little peace like others, like Lucia, might have done. I guess that’s why I was seeing her. She wouldn’t let me off easy. She continued to drill her eyes into mine. “And now you’re doing them with another man. Another partner. Is that what you’re afraid of? Not the lift itself.”
“No. No, no, no. We’re not doing the same ones. Maybe a variation or something similar but not as hard. It’s not the same. It’s totally different. It’s totally…he’s totally different. Nothing is the same. Nothing.” I caught my breath, then inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times.
“Arabelle, I didn’t ask you if this man was the same in any way. I know he’s not. There’s only one Willem. There’s only one of each of us. I just asked if the lifts were the same.”
I took a few more breaths. She wasn’t putting me on the defensive. I was getting way too worked up about a question she didn’t ask. “Yes. I mean no, the lifts are different. Different lifts.”
She nodded, and gave me a slight smile.
“And, are you scared this man might drop you; that you might fall?”
“No, not at all.” I shook my head adamantly.
“Because you trust him not to drop you.”
I let the words sink in, then laughed. Trust Jett? Never. “No way. I trust myself to protect myself from him.”
“You can do that? I mean if you’re high in the air?”
“Most definitely. I know how to fall properly to minimize injury.”
She listened, nodding. But she still wore that little smile. And I had to admit, the more I heard myself the more I realized how silly I sounded. If he was standing and I fell, I could get hurt. That just wasn’t going to happen. It just wasn’t. So I guess I was saying I trusted him if I was so sure I wasn’t scared of the lifts.
“How is the tremor? I don’t see it today.”
Sometimes I didn’t even notice when it was or wasn’t present. I looked down at my hand. “Yeah, it’s okay today. At least while I’m not thinking about it.” I laughed nervously, not wanting it to come back now that my mind was on it.
She nodded. “What about when you’re dancing? Have you noticed it during your team practice?”
I thought about it. Weirdly, not much. Except for the initial time with the rag doll. Unless I just hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t had any problems with connection. Granted, we’d spent more of our time talking about the routine—okay, fighting about the routine—than actually dancing. I shook my head. “It’s mainly when I’m practicing with Drew. Not teaching, and…not working with Jett.”
She nodded again. “Good.”
Yes, I guess it was. Of course my dancing with Drew was far more important to my dance career, so it would be best if the tremor didn’t happen with him. But I needed to take improvements as they came.
* * *
That evening, I got another call from Alessia asking me to come into her office first thing when I got to the studio the next day.
“What’s up?” I asked. She sounded a bit frantic, which was unlike her. She was usually calm and poised and confident.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I…I think it’s going to be okay.”
I think? Okay, that worried me.
* * *
Jett was already in her office when I got there. One glance at him through her little office window sent an electric zing up my spine. Stop it, I said to myself, wanting to slap the zing right off of my back. He flashed me a cocky grin as if he knew exactly what had just gone through my mind. Or body, rather. I took a breath, shook him off, and walked in.
“Hi Belle,” Alessia said, that same slightly beleaguered sound in her voice that I’d heard last night.
“Is everything okay?” I sat next to Jett.
“Hopefully. Yes, yes, it will be,” Alessia said after a deep breath.
“What happened?” Jett said. She apparently hadn’t said anything to him yet either.
“This guy named Landon Brantley just opened a new studio. This one in West Hollywood. He’s from New York. He had a huge, very successful studio there. In fact, I took lessons with him. That’s where I trained.” She took another deep breath. “He knows how to run a studio. He knows how to be a big success, and take over a lot of the little people. He did just that in New York.”
“You think he’s going to take business away?” My voice squeaked with nerves. I was just getting back on my feet financially with the team coaching. I didn’t want to have to worry about losing students to a competing studio.
“I know he’s taken Xenia and Piotr from another studio to dance there. You know they used to dance here before Sasha and Xenia broke up. Luna’s friend has talked her into going there. You know how much money she brought into the studio. Nikolai, an up and coming standard ballroom dancer, just signed on to teach there with his partner, Katusha. He’s taking Gloria, this studio’s other big spender. And Svetlana has told me he’s trying to get her and her partner to go. They’re Rising Star champions, you may know.”
“What is he giving them?” Jett asked.
Alessia shook her head. “Not sure. I would assume more money. And maybe job security. According to Svetlana, he’s trying to make this place look like a sinking ship.”
“Yes, but you’ve got the world champs, Sasha and Rory,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, but you know, now with this movie he’s making and this documentary he and Rory are doing, he hardly teaches anymore. Rory never taught since she returned to her law practice instead. And now that she’s pregnant, they won’t be dancing at Blackpool this year. No m
atter how much publicity they bring to the studio with his fame, it doesn’t really matter if they don’t teach regularly, do private lessons, take students to competitions, or bring in championship money.” I could really hear the worry in her voice now.
“Hopefully, Drew and I will win big at Blackpool. We’re established as a top couple since we placed third last year and the top couple isn’t competing. And we both teach.” But I heard my voice. It totally lacked conviction. I was having so many problems with Drew, with my tremor.
“What can we do to help?” Jett asked.
Arabelle looked back and forth between the two of us. She smiled weakly. “I’m not really sure. Other than work hard on the team. It would be awesome if you guys could do really well at that upcoming Vegas comp. I’ve heard Landon’s bringing a team too.”
I snickered. You’ve got to be kidding, I thought. Totally copying us.
“What kind of team?” Jett asked.
“I’m not completely sure but I think it’s a Latin formation. I think Piotr and Xenia are the leads. With them being world finalists in Latin, it makes sense that’s what the studio’s going to be known for.” She said this without looking at me. I was a Latin finalist too. But if my problems continued, I wouldn’t be anymore.
“That one’s in a month. So, we’ve got a lot of work to do to be ready in time.” But Jett didn’t sound the least bit worried. He sounded excited by a challenge. “We’d have to speed it up, maybe triple up the sessions, if it’s okay with the team. We’ve got a lot of really good students. And, I really think they’re up to the challenge.” Jett flashed those large white teeth at me and nodded, as if pleading with me to agree with him.
“What are you guys thinking for your dance style,” Alessia asked, a note of hopefulness now coating her words.
“Since we’re specialists in showdance, we’re doing cabaret with several different music rhythms and dance styles, fast to slow. And of course, lots of fancy theatrical lifts and all,” Jett answered immediately, his grin widening.
“That sounds excellent!” She nearly jumped in her seat.
