Dark Turns (13 page)

N
ia stood at the side of her bed and considered the man sleeping in it. His defined chest rose and fell with long breaths. He was out. She’d have to wake him. Though Peter could sleep in on a Sunday, she didn’t have that luxury. And she didn’t want to make a habit of sneaking out in the mornings.

She’d invited him to dinner last night in the teacher’s quad. After spending the day with Dimitri, she hadn’t burned with desire to see another man. But she’d wanted Peter to know that her “friend” hadn’t stayed the night.

She’d already showered and dressed, hoping the sound would stir him before she needed to leave. She’d made coffee too, but the smell of French roast had no impact on the
tea drinker sprawled atop her mattress. The long hand of her clock flirted with the ten. She had to walk to the dance building now or she’d be late.

She leaned over him. The presence of another individual, inches from his face, had no visible impact. Her lips grazed his forehead. Peter moaned and reached for her. She slipped from his grasp.

“I’m sorry. I have to go to class.”

“It’s Sunday,” he whined.

“I know.”

He opened one eye and frowned. “You’re dressed.”

“Class is in ten minutes. I made coffee. I’m sorry. I don’t have tea.”

He rolled over onto his side. His legs flopped off the bed. “I gotta pee,” he mumbled.

She kissed the top of his head. “I gotta go.”

He scratched the stubble on the side of his face. “Leave the cash on the dresser?”

“I’m sorry. But I can’t be late. It’s still the first week of classes.”

Peter stood like a lazy giant, hunched posture hiding his height. “I’ll walk out with you. Let me just hit the bathroom first.”

“You don’t have to rush.”

“It’s better I leave before the students start buzzing around the hallways.”

Peter lumbered to the bathroom. She admired the muscle definition in his apple-shaped, bare bottom. The toilet flushed. The faucet ran.

He returned and fished his boxer shorts from the twisted sheets at the edge of her bed. Nia poured him coffee as he jostled back into wrinkled jeans and a crumpled shirt. The worn outfit again advertised his night as clearly as a hickey.

He smoothed his shirt. “Ready for ballet.”

“You mean ready to roll back into your own bed.”

“No. I’m up now.” He tilted his head toward his armpit. “But I need to shower.”

She handed him the coffee cup, relishing the routine of the gesture.
Good morning. Here’s your coffee. I’m heading to work now
. It was nice to wake up with a man.

Peter’s nose wrinkled as he sipped. She’d have to buy some tea.

“Okay. So let me walk-of-shame it on out of here, then.” He scratched his head where the hair lay matted in the wrong direction. “Want to grab some dinner tonight?”

The force of her smile fought against her cheeks. To think a couple days ago she’d thought he would reject her. Now he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Where were you thinking?” She sipped her coffee, hiding her grin behind the ceramic mug.

“I’ll cook at my place. I’ll sneak you in.” He guzzled the remainder of the drink like taking medicine and set the cup on the counter. “My RA is totally clueless.”

“I wouldn’t say totally.”

His eyes sparkled. She took the expression as a green light to offer a taste of the coming night. She kissed him. The coffee masked the odor of stale breath.

He pinched her butt. “Let me walk out with you. Then I’ll leave you to your day.”

They slipped from the door. Nia suppressed a self-satisfied grin as they swept past Aubrey’s room. There weren’t rules against RAs having sex with another consenting adult. The handbook advised discretion.

*

Nia entered the studio to stares and suppressed giggles. Aubrey stood in the center of Alexei’s gossip circle. Her presence in the group surprised Nia. The T twins had always seemed to resent Aubrey’s talent, and June hadn’t said a word to the girl since the semester’s start. Alexei clearly didn’t like her. He’d been all too eager to share stories that painted her as loose.

It didn’t take Nia long to figure out how Aubrey had ingratiated herself into the group. The girl covered her mouth and whispered loudly. “Listen. I bet she’s hoarse.”

Alexei waved as though he tried to grab Nia’s attention across a crowded street. “Hi, Ms. Washington. How was your weekend?”

The group snickered. What had Aubrey told them? Why would she be hoarse?

Ms. V cleared her throat. She admonished the group with a laser-beam look. “Ms. Washington. May I have a word?”

Overenunciated consonants broadcasted Ms. V’s annoyance. Nia felt guilty. Of what, she wasn’t sure.

She followed her boss into the office. Ms. V shut the door and took a seat behind a metal desk. Her expression multiplied the smoker’s lines around her mouth.

“Unfortunately, I must bring a rather uncomfortable matter to your attention.”

This was not a good start to a conversation. Nia scanned her mental database of Aubrey encounters and imagined how her actions could be mischaracterized. Had Aubrey mentioned the club? How could she without admitting that she’d been in an adult-only casino?

“I understand that you have been having a male visitor.”

The statement felt like an assault. “V-visitor?”

Ms. V held up her hand. “While there isn’t a rule against fraternization, we do expect teachers to be examples of
proper behavior and etiquette. Carrying on in a way that can be heard by the students is, at best, unbecoming conduct. At worst, it’s detrimental to the well-being and safety of our students.”

Fear hollowed out her insides. It sounded as though Ms. V were gearing up to fire her. Nia thought of the pain in her heel. She still didn’t have health insurance.

She struggled to keep her tone and volume steady. “I don’t know what was said to you, but I have not behaved in any inappropriate way. I have kept—”

Ms. V again held up her hand. The way she did it dismissed rather than surrendered. “I don’t need to know the details, Ms. Washington. But you should know that our students observe their teachers. We cannot broadcast our private lives. Moreover, your behavior is interrupting the sleep of our students.”

So Aubrey was the victim? Nia burned with the temptation to spill all of Aubrey’s recent transgressions: sneaking into a club, drinking, performing suggestively on top of a bar, flirting with men twice her age, and more. But Ms. V would never believe her. The girl was the dance program’s mascot.

Nia swallowed her anger. “I am very sorry and embarrassed that anything I said while in the privacy of my home was overheard. Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. Now that I am aware, I will make certain my boyfriend and I do not stay at my place.”

Ms. V settled into her chair. “That’s probably for the best. Off campus is preferable for certain kinds of activities.”

“Of course. I’ll also make sure to apologize to my neighbors.” As she said the words she thought about how she could have it out with Aubrey without getting drawn into petty bickering.

“I’m sure that would be appreciated,” Ms. V said.

Nia kept her head high as she exited the room. The students watched her, undoubtedly looking for signs that she had been scolded, or worse. She walked straight to where Aubrey stood, beside Joseph. The pair must have made up.

“Aubrey.”

The girl batted her cartoonish eyes. “Yes?”

The other students watched the exchange. Good. She wanted witnesses to this confrontation.

“I’ve been made aware that I kept you up last night. I apologize for that. I was with my boyfriend, Peter.”

“Oh, he’s your boyfriend?” Aubrey tilted her head and glared. Her arms folded over her chest.

“We didn’t realize that our conversation could be heard through the thin walls,” Nia continued. “We will be more discrete in the future.”

“I understand that we all need to have a little fun.”

“Within reason.” Nia raised her voice. “As neighbors, we have to respect each other. I’ll keep it down. I’ll also make sure any business that I overhear or see is kept between us. I’m sure that you wouldn’t want any of your friends hearing excruciating details of what you do in your free time.”

Nia cast Joseph a pointed look. Alexei chuckled. This time, Nia wasn’t the butt of the joke.

N
ia took the students through the usual stretch regimen of pliés, arabesques, and grand battements without suffering pointed stares or whispers. She then, per Ms. V’s instruction, spent another ten minutes reviewing fouetté turns, correcting hip position and toe points as the students attempted multiple twirls. Ms. V was giving her more responsibility, prepping her for when she would take over corps practices for the fall show.

Lydia and Aubrey had the turns down, so much so that they could perform several sets without stopping. June could do two sets but frequently spun away from where she started. The T twins had trouble with one.

Surprisingly, Alexei and Joseph proved very capable with the male version of the turn. Unlike a woman, a man only rose onto the pad of his foot and kept his leg extended through the rotation. Both boys boasted strong thighs and abs that easily supported the weight of their raised leg.

After class, Ms. V called attention to the lesson schedule. They had decided to start with the most promising students rather than the struggling ones. Ms. V had explained that, after hours of correcting basics like keeping toes pointed, arches flexed, knees turned out, and backs straight, Aubrey and Lydia would seem beyond reproach. Without corrections, the best couldn’t get better. Even principal dancers had choreographers to criticize their forms.

As the students slipped on their street shoes, Nia overheard Alexei tell June something about the police. “I got Detective Ed somebody. How about you?”

“They didn’t get to me yet. But I hear they’re interviewing everyone except freshmen,” June said. “What’d he ask?”

“He wanted to know if student cell numbers were listed anywhere publicly.”

“Like on a bathroom wall?”

“Or a Facebook wall,” Alexei said. “Of course, I told them no. People don’t just give out their cell. That’s private.”

“But Lauren’s number wouldn’t be difficult to find. She probably gave it out to friends or study groups . . .”

“You just want Theo to be innocent.”

“Well, it’s true. When they get to me, that’s what I’m going to say.”

Alexei and June continued debating out the door. Everyone filed behind them except for Aubrey and Lydia. Ms. V took Aubrey onto the stage to rehearse. For once, the teacher’s favoritism worked in Nia’s favor. She would get an hour with Lydia.

Nia started the music. Drums crept into the room like a far-off war cry. Battle had chosen a fusion of eighteenth-century classical and modern alternative by an Icelandic “postrock” band. Guitar strings, scraped by a violin bow, screeched into the room, followed by the male singer’s haunting falsetto.

Lydia bounced on her toes. “I love this band.”

“This is the music for the soloist in the fall performance,” Nia continued. “Ms. V and I are teaching the routine to both you and Aubrey, as you each demonstrate superior technique. Only one of you will get it. The other will be the understudy and also learn a pas de deux to perform with either Alexei or Joseph.”

Lydia’s big brown eyes grew serious. Her pixie chin lowered. “I want this solo.”

Nia admired the ferocity in her look. She wanted a competitor for Aubrey and she had gotten a good one. “And I want you to win it.”

They listened to the song twice before Nia demonstrated the first movement. She watched Lydia absorb the dark melody that exploded into a triumphant march during the refrain, only to be drawn back into the depths during each verse until it finally wrested free in a joyous coda.

Lydia took direction like a professional. Nia never needed to give the same correction twice. If she told the girl to raise her leg higher or keep her hip down, the leg stayed up and the hip lowered each time the step repeated. The petite prima also memorized choreography at first sight, often imitating Nia’s demonstrations before she had completely finished.

Still, there was work to be done. Lydia had an impressive arabesque, but not the jaw-dropping full split that Aubrey flashed with such ease. Nia was certain she could get Lydia
there. The girl could perform a split in multiple directions, and a standing split utilized the same muscles and ligaments. Lydia also lacked the power of Aubrey’s leaps, but Nia couldn’t fix that as easily. Innate Achilles strength determined jumping power as much as training. Lydia was already well trained.

What Lydia lacked technically, she compensated for with something that couldn’t be taught: she internalized the music. The girl breathed the rhythm until her rib cage rose and fell in time with the song. She never needed Nia to clap the tempo for pointe work. She danced as if the music compelled her legs to rise, her toes to point. She heard the beat, no matter how intense, dissonant, or distracting the melody. And she translated every step, even the new ones, into seemingly effortless expressions.

By the end of practice, Nia knew Lydia could beat Aubrey. The only question was, could Nia instruct as well as Ms. V did?

The other individual sessions were a letdown. She’d pulled Talia, June, Joseph, and Marta. Ms. V took the two Russians, Tati and Alexei, as well as Kimberly and Suzanne.

The dancers in her group weren’t poor. On the contrary, most were solid for a preprofessional program. But the corps steps bored Nia. They didn’t challenge and so were less interesting to demonstrate and more of a pain to instruct. The students felt they knew the quick toe sweeps and little jumps. As a result, they got lazy. Toes weren’t pointed to the extreme. Knees slipped into the forward position.

Pas de deux practice with Joseph was the exception. His movements were polished. His jumps showed real power. He’d even proven adept at the lifts, which Nia had demonstrated by playing the role of his partner. Unfortunately,
there was a downside to his talent. He didn’t appreciate direction. Joseph felt he knew the “man’s role,” and he clearly didn’t want his female partner telling him where to put his hands.

By the time Marta entered the room, Nia was relieved to bid Joseph good-bye for the day. His overconfidence would lead to mistakes. She didn’t want to be propped above his head when he made one.

Nia welcomed Marta into the studio, holding her tongue about Theo, for the moment. First and foremost, she had a job to do. She couldn’t have Marta running away before her lesson started.

The practice went well. Marta’s weight loss had helped her regain her center of gravity. Now she moved fluidly. Her posture remained erect. She had a beautiful straight line when she pliéd. Her flexibility surprised Nia. Marta could almost pull her foot to her head.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” Nia meant the compliment, though she said it to put Marta at ease. Now was her chance to bring up the police.

Marta completed a pretty arabesque followed by a deep bend to one knee.

“The you-know-what gives you this hormone that stretches your ligaments,” Marta said. “I guess it helped in one way.”

“The way you look now, you could land the other pas de deux part.”

“Yeah, right.” Though the words were clearly intended to be sarcastic, Marta couldn’t cover the hopeful rise in tone that turned her statement into a question.
Right? Do you really think so?

“I mean it.”

Marta pulled her leg to her side. “Suzie always gets the partner dances. Ms. V thinks she and Alexei look good together. Aubrey usually dances with Joseph and does the solo.”

“Well, whoever dances the solo won’t get the pas de deux this time.”

“But we have Lydia now.”

Nia crossed the room to the computer. She turned off the band that had screamed from the speakers for most of the day. It was a credit to the musicians that she could listen to the singer’s wail on repeat for five hours without tearing her hair out.

“Well, I still think you have a chance. Your movement shows a lot of emotion.”

Marta shrugged, demonstrating the nonchalance that teenagers strived so hard to perfect. The teen picked up her street shoes and then tucked into the corner and pulled off the slippers plastered to her feet. Her body language didn’t invite conversation. But Nia didn’t have a better time to talk to her.

She cleared her throat. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me. You got contraceptives when you went to that place, right?”

Marta froze like a lizard trying to camouflage itself against the background. Her fingers hovered above her shoe, still grasping the laces. She didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“You could potentially tell the . . . people that you went into the city to check out birth control options and saw Theo waiting for the bus.”

Marta’s legs retreated toward her chest. “My parents would be really upset if they knew I was even sexually active.”

“But if Theo’s innocent, you wouldn’t want—”

“Shouldn’t you both be done by now?” Aubrey’s head ducked into the room. She looked like a disembodied doll.

Marta jumped into standing position. Her right shoe remained untied. “I’m good. Let’s go.” She ran from the room.

Marta’s speed showed Nia what she needed to know. The girl’s fear of her parents would prevent her from admitting going anywhere near an abortion clinic. Nia couldn’t appeal to Marta’s desire to do the right thing, and she couldn’t let a teen’s cowardice put an innocent boy in prison.

Nia headed home. The detective’s card was on her dresser.

*

The phone rang, a shrill siren that reminded Nia of her first day on campus six days ago. Detective Kelly hadn’t wanted to hear her theory that Lauren had been strangled. Would he want to hear her share another student’s alibi for Theo? Wasn’t that hearsay?

She had to try. Peter’s description of his favorite student replayed in her head. The boy was a promising, sensitive poetry student and she, like everyone else on campus, had convicted him just because he’d dumped, and possibly cheated on, his girlfriend. Infidelity was not in the same realm as murder. She’d been wrong to assume the worst.

The gruff, Massachusetts accent picked up on the fourth ring after a pause, as though his work line had forwarded to a cell phone. “Detective Kelly, Connecticut State Police.”

“Hi. It’s Antonia Washington. We met on Monday.”

“Yes. I remember.”

Cheering overwhelmed the speaker. A woman screamed for someone named Mikey to “go, go, go.” People clapped.

“Excuse me.” Kelly seemed to shout. “Little league game. Just give me a moment.”

Nia heard the sound of shuffling and walking. The cheering died down, though she could still hear yelling in the background.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“How can I help you?”

“You’d said to call if I thought of anything or learned anything.”

“And . . .”

Marta’s face filled her vision. Nia winced away the image. The girl would have to understand. An innocent teenager’s freedom was on the line. “A student recently told me that she saw Theo in Claremont on Saturday.”

“Did you give her my number?”

“She’s afraid to talk to you.”

“She can bring her parents.”

“No.” The word came out too quickly. Nia fumbled for an explanation that wouldn’t require too many details. “She is pretty unwilling to come forward.”

The background noise intensified. It sounded enthusiastic. The home team must have gotten a hit.

“Why don’t you come on in tomorrow and we’ll talk? I’m at the state police barracks in Claremont. Bus drops off at the station.”