The Game Series (58 page)

My hand hovers over the studio door uncertainly. One phone call from Bianca is all it’s taken to drag me down here, yet I don’t even know why I’m here. It’s not a class day, and I can’t think of anything she could say in person she couldn’t tell me over the phone.

I curl my fingers around the handle and pull it open. The faint sounds of the piano drift back me, and I realize Friday’s are one of the days she teaches her younger class. Now I’m even more confused why I’m here. Still, I walk down the hall and peek through the door.

Two rows of little girls dressed in baby pink, lilac or pale blue leotards face the front, all doing
demi-plies
perfectly in time with the music. My lips curve into a smile. They all look adorable.

Bianca notices me standing here and says something to the girls. They all nod, never breaking their dancing. She walks toward me, tall and regal, and joins me in the hall.

“I’m glad you came down,” she says.

“I’m a little confused why you needed me here.”

“It’s simple.” Bianca smiles. “A friend runs a ballet studio on the other side of the city for teens, and she’s putting on a production at the end of August of Swan Lake. The group of children she was using for the animals are no longer able to be a part of it, and as the show is a sell-out, she refuses to cancel it. She contacted me last night and asked if my girls would like to take the place of the animals. It means a lot of hard work for them, but I know they can do it.”

“And where do I come into this?” I look from the tiny dancers to Bianca.

“I can’t keep my eyes on every single girl as they learn the steps. Their time to learn their parts is limited, so I need help.”

“You… You want me to help?”

“I can’t think of anyone better for it.” She touches my arm. “I’m not asking this as a favor, Abbi, I’m hiring you to help me. I’ll pay you, and who knows, if everything works well, I may have need of an assistant permanently.”

I swallow, pressing my fingers to the window. “I don’t know if I can do it. I mean, I don’t know if I’m ready to do something like that.”

“I called Dr. Hausen this morning,” Bianca admits quietly. “I asked her for her opinion, and she believes it’ll be good for you. She and I both agree that having a job will focus your mind on something other than the way you’ve been feeling lately-”

“Huh. You noticed.”

“And there’s no better job for you than doing this – the very thing you love. I adore letting myself go and dancing, but my favorite part of everything is watching the delight on one of these girls’ faces when they finally get that step they’ve been stuck on for ages. And,” she taps my shoulder, making me look at her. “There’s nothing better than seeing someone find herself and start to live again.”

“I guess you’re right. It would be good for me, and ballet does make me feel alive. Really alive.”

“Having an incredibly handsome partner with a British accent goes a long way, too.” Bianca winks at me playfully. I blush. “I knew it!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie, my lips twitching. “Blake and I are friends. Very good friends.”

“Abbi, honey, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. There’s no friendship in that look.” She pats my shoulder, leaning into the door, ready to open it. “But as much as I’d love to go all gossip girl on you and grill you, that’s not my business. I also have a class to teach, and perhaps an assistant to introduce?”

I drop my small smile, take a deep breath in, and gaze at the girls. They’re still dancing, all in perfect sync. It wouldn’t be hard to teach them. I know Swan Lake’s dances like I know mine and Blake’s
pas de deux.
Besides, if Dr. Hausen thinks it’s a good idea… Maybe it’s time to step outside of my comfort zone again.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

Bianca beams and opens the door. She claps her hands three times, and the girls all stop, moving into first position. I hover by the door, my stomach rolling as nerves kick in. I clasp my hands in front of my stomach to hide their gentle shake.

“Girls, I have someone to introduce to you.” Bianca gestures to me. “This is Abbi, and she’s my new assistant. She’ll be helping me in your classes for the next few months.”

I walk toward Bianca slowly, feeling twelve pairs of inquisitive eyes on me. “Hi, everyone.” I wave slightly.

“You’re all wondering why I have an assistant. Right?” Bianca looks out at the nodding heads. “Well, at the end of the summer, instead of doing our usual production here for your parents you’ll be a part of a larger one on stage. A friend of mine is putting on Swan Lake, and she needs some animals. I told her I have twelve little animals in my lower class that would be perfect for her.”

Gasps and squeals radiate through the group in front of us, and I can’t help but smile at the looks on their little faces. They’re completely shocked but wearing the biggest smiles known to man, and the excitement shining from their wide eyes is testament to how much they want to do this.

“It’s going to mean a lot of hard work from you, girls, and perhaps some Saturday sessions, too. That’s why I have Abbi; she’s kindly agreed to help me teach you your dances. She’s one of the best dancers in my higher group, so in ten years’ time when she’s jetting around the world as a famous ballerina, I expect you all to brag about how she taught you to dance in your first on-stage ballet.” Bianca winks at me again. “Now, I’m going to be
really
naughty, so sssh. I’m going to get a glass of water and leave you with Abbi to get to know each other for ten minutes.”

All the girls immediately crowd around me, excitedly bouncing. I get the feeling their excitement is more from the news they’ll be doing their first dance in a real theatre, but I feel wanted nonetheless. And it feels kind of… nice.

“You really gotta stop throwing me these curveballs,” I mutter as Bianca passes me.

“I have no idea what you mean.” She leaves the studio, followed by her uncle, and I’m suddenly alone with twelve very chatty seven and eight year olds.

“How about we all sit down?” I suggest, looking out at a sea of faces. “Then we can all chat easier. Okay?”

Choruses of “yeah” and “okay” come to me, and I sit cross-legged on the studio floor. They all copy me, sitting with their backs perfectly straight.

“How about we introduce ourselves first? Our name, age, and a little something about us. I’ll start.” I shift slightly. “I’m Abbi, I’m eighteen, and I’m training with Bianca to get into Juilliard.”

As we travel around the group, I learn names I’ve already forgotten and the strangest facts about them. Kids really don’t a brain-to-mouth filter, and I have to stifle my giggles more than once.

“Okay, now that I know you all, do you have any questions for me?”

Rosie, a small girl with brown hair puts her hand up. “Have you ever danced Swan Lake?”

I nod. “Lots. It’s my favorite ballet.”

“How many characters have you been?”

“Quite a few. I was Odette when I was sixteen for our Christmas production.”

“I thought everyone danced the Nutcracker at Christmas?” Bailey, a blonde girl, pipes up.

“Sometimes, sometimes not,” I answer. “I did that when I was a bit older than you.”

“I bet you played Clara.”

I don’t know who said that, but I gasp in pretend shock. “How did you know?”

“You look like a Clara,” the same voice says matter-of-factly.

“Have you ever been on a really big theatre stage?” Another voice.

“Yep. Lots of times.”

“What’s it like?” Another.

I smile, remembering the feeling of being free on the stage in the darkness, save for one spotlight on you. “It’s the best thing ever. It’s really fun, and not nearly as scary as you think it’ll be. You’ll see.”

“What if we’re too scared to try?” A small voice asks me. I look in the direction of it, and it belongs to a red-haired girl hiding behind her hand whose name I don’t remember.

“I don’t believe any of you are too scared to try. I bet you’d all be awesome a stage.”

“But there’s so many people.”

“It’s dark,” I counter. “You can’t see them, and you forget all about them when you dance. I promise. And, don’t tell Bianca I said this…” I gesture for them all to lean in, and they do. “But if you’re really, really,
really
scared, just imagine all of the audience in their underwear with bunny rabbit ears on their head.”

All the girls burst into laughter, giggling uncontrollably. I grin at them all, knowing I’ve made the right decision to help Bianca with them.

If twelve happy, excited faces can’t brighten my day three times a week, then there’s no way I should be out of St. Morris’.

~

The house is eerily quiet with Mom and Dad away on a business trip. It’s the first they’ve taken since I came home, and the freedom is wonderful. There’s no worried eyes glancing at me if I’m still in my pajamas at midday or intent stare on me whenever I go near the cutlery draw.

If I stood a chance at not burning my toast, I’d really enjoy buttering it.

I’m a little scared. The knowledge of what I could do is tormenting me. The weight of my pain from the last few days – although peppered with everything that’s good – is slowly getting too much to bear. Now I’m alone, it feels heavier than ever. So I do what I should do and pick up the phone to call Dr. Hausen before Blake arrives to practice.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Dr. Hausen answers.

“I’m home alone this weekend and I’m scared,” I blurt out.

“What-”

“I’m scared I won’t be strong enough to fight the urges if I have a bad night. The last time I was home alone was the night that was almost my last. What do I do if I feel like that again? Maddie isn’t here this time.”

“Abbi… Abbi,” she says softly. “I need you to breathe for me. Like we practiced before. Slowly.”

She’s right. I need to calm down. I need to breathe. I close my eyes with the phone still against my ear and breathe slowly to Dr. Hausen’s counting. It takes a few minutes, but eventually my breathing goes back to normal.

“Good. That’s good. How are you now?”

“I’m okay. It was just… A moment.”

“We’re all allowed a moment every now and then, Abbi. They make it better – they allow you to let it all out.”

I nod, like I’m reassuring myself. “Right. Moments are okay. I know that.”

“You do know that, and that’s why I’m certain you’ll be fine this weekend. You know how to stop the panic attacks and you know how to battle the urges. The only difference is that this time, you must do it for yourself, and not your parents. That’s all.”

“For myself,” I mutter. “Okay. Myself.” I sigh heavily.

“I’m on call this weekend. If you need me, you know where I am. You can call or you could even come to St. Morris’ if you need the company.”

I promised myself the day I left I’d never go back unless it was for our sessions, but it sounds almost appealing right now. I can’t deny I’m tempted, but I draw on that inner strength everyone is so certain I have and politely refuse.

“Blake will be here tonight to practice, and I can always go and see Bianca in the studio if I need to. I think I’m just panicking for no reason. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince.

“You know where I am if you need anything.” The line clicks off, and I put my cell down.

Deathly silence wraps around me, allowing whispers to nudge at my mind. Allowing twitches to take my fingers. Allowing my teeth to bite down on the inside of my cheek.

I grab the remote and turn on the television to drown it out. Despite what I said to Dr. Hausen only a moment ago, I’m not sure I will be okay. My eyes flick to the clock above the fireplace to see how much longer I have to be alone. Blake should be here any second, so I sit on my hands and blow out my cheeks. But the whispers are still there.

They’re always there.

In the back of my mind, they start off almost completely silently, getting louder and louder every minute you ignore them until they’re screaming at you. Until their shouts and yells take over everything else, until the urges they support are the only thing you can focus on.

I focus on the Gilmore Girls, listening to their voices instead of the anxiety building in my body. Goddammit, where is Blake? I rock forward slightly and push my whole body weight into my hands to stop myself pulling them from under me. My eyes travel to the window where I can see the sun starting to illuminate the low-lying clouds as it begins its descent.

Descent. Rib to hip. Knee to Ankle. Ankle to toe.

I screw my eyes shut, shaking my head.

Descent. Eyes to feet. Fist to cheek. Cheek to floor.

And I can feel it pulling me under. A memory of my own creation, born of my own anxiety. I can feel the tug in my mind and the shake of my body as faint music replaces the television and Pearce’s hands replace mine.

“Pearce,” I’d begged him. “Please, let’s just go. You know Owen won’t ever give you what he owes you, not when you still owe his brother money.”