The Standout (26 page)

“What do you mean?”

Kyla explains, and I realize that everyone here is out for themselves. They are all glad Robin is gone. She’s one fewer person to compete with and that’s the nature of reality television. Maybe that’s the nature of life.

But I text Julie.
So sorry about everything! You’re right about Yuri and I’m a total disaster. Can I still stay with you?

She must have calmed down in the hours since we talked, because she texts back and tells me to come over after I’m done for the day. I tell her that I will, and then I text Robin with Julie’s address.
Come by at around 8:00. I have a feeling you’ll get all your answers.

One way or another, we will get to the bottom of this.

The doorman lets me in, alerts Julie, and I take the elevator to the fifteenth floor. My stomach is like a snow globe: shaken, upset and waiting to resettle back into reality. I have no idea what kind of Julie I will find on the other side of her door.

Her shiny face is the first thing I see when the elevator doors open. “Hey!” Her voice is perky, her smile is bright, and even her hair is in a swishing, energetic ponytail. So this evening she’s playing the part of happy best friend. I step onto the solid floor and she loops her arms through mine, guiding me to her apartment. “I bet you haven’t even heard!”

“Heard what?”

“They posted the summer repertory roles today!”

I can’t believe I’d forgotten. Weeks ago, Julie and I and every other girl at Ballet Institute East auditioned for a part with the summer repertory program that partners with New York City Ballet. Getting cast means opening a door for an internship with one of the best ballet companies in the world.

Julie’s happy demeanor must mean she got good news. “What part did you get?” I ask.

“I didn’t get anything.” As she speaks her shiny expression expands, like Pinocchio's nose when he’s telling a lie. “We both knew I wouldn’t. But you did, because you get everything you want, don’t you?”

“I. . . I wouldn’t say that.” We’re in her living room now, and I plop down on the plush, heather-colored armchair that I’ve always loved. “I mean, who even cares, right? It’s not the end all, be all.”

Julie is leaning against her couch’s armrest, unwilling to sit down. “You don’t have to pretend, Zelda. I know how much you wanted it and I know you’re already dying to call your mom and tell her.” She widens her eyes in insincere wonder. “Maybe you’ve finally done something that will make her happy.”

“So they posted a list? I’m surprised I didn’t hear about it from the other BIE girls at
The Standout
.”

I stare and she stares back. The smile hasn’t left her face but Julie’s eyes are cold and hard. “If you don’t believe me, ask Yuri. He got cast as Albrecht. He’ll tell you when he gets here.”

“What? Yuri is coming over?”

“I mentioned the idea of a threesome and he was all for it. He should be here soon.” She does a fake yawn and stretch movement. “Do you want anything to drink? I could really use something to take the edge off.”

She strolls toward her parent’s liquor cabinet and I get up and follow her. “Julie, I’m sorry about Yuri. I only meant to be friends with him, really. But you and I need to talk.”

She’s kneeled down, pulling out bottles, sorting through and rejecting each one. “I think I’m in the mood for vodka and we keep that in the freezer.” Julie meets my eyes as she stands up straight. “Yuri will like that. Vodka will make him feel at home.”

I follow her into the kitchen and speak to her back as she digs through the icebox. “Julie, I’m serious. I need to know what’s going on with you.”

She wrestles out the vodka bottle, which was sandwiched between a box of Boca Burgers and a bag of frozen peas. “I’m fine Zelda, really. I mean, why should I care that you stole my boyfriend, my modeling job, and now my repertory spot? I’ve only been working towards it for my entire life, but everything happens for a reason, right?” She tightly grasps the frosty bottle and refracted light shines through it. “Do you want ice in your drink?”

“I. . .um, no thank you.” I mean no thank you for the drink itself, but Julie assumes I just want it iceless, so she pours a healthy portion of straight-up vodka into a martini glass and hands it to me. I take a tentative sip, and warmth, both soothing and sickening, travels from my lips to my limbs.

Meanwhile, Julie fills her own glass with ice and a larger amount of vodka than she gave me. As she boldly drinks I marvel how she can take such a big swallow of this medicine-like stuff.

“Anyway,” she continues, waving her vodka around so that some of it sloshes down to the floor, “there’s always a solution, right? Maybe I’ll pull another Adrian.”

“Huh?”

Julie takes a contented sip before answering. “It was easy, convincing Adrian she didn’t want to be a model on
The Standout
.” She sets her glass down on the kitchen counter. “Crazy, really, how little you have to do to make someone feel scared.”

Oh yeah. Julie was only cast as the understudy, but she got the job after our Ballet Institute East classmate mysteriously dropped out. “You threatened Adrian?”

“I did what I had to do to get what I wanted.” Julie spins, faces the kitchen counter, and lifts one leg so her foot rests on top, as if she’s standing at a ballet barre. She raises her arm over her head and arches her back. Her head is upside down, peering at me. “I tried to do the same to you. I thought if I could get your designer out, I could get you out too.”

Her confession just slides out, graceful, effortless, and nearly beautiful. I don’t even know what to think. “But why, Julie?”

She straightens up, calmly lowering her leg like she can’t be bothered to rush her answer. “Because I wanted to beat you for once.”

I don’t always win. I don’t get everything I want, far from it, and everyone knows Julie is a better dancer than me. “You sabotaged Robin just to punish me?”

“I wouldn’t call it sabotage. I just tried to undermine her confidence, which was easy, because let’s face it, she’s a mess.”

Suddenly I realize I am squeezing my glass of vodka, harder and harder, with every word Julie says. I loosen my grip and it shatters to the kitchen floor, little shards of glass amidst a puddle of white alcohol.

Then a buzzer rings.

Julie steps over my mess and into the foyer, where she presses a button on her wall. “Yes?”

The doorman’s answer is full of static. “Yuri is here for you.”

“Send him up.” She marches back into the kitchen. I have grabbed some paper towels and am crouched down, attempting to clean up. “Don’t worry about that now, Zelda,” Julie barks. “Come on, we’re meeting Yuri at the elevator.”

I can barely orient myself around any of this. “Huh? Why?”

Julie taps her foot, too impatient to explain. “If you care about what happens to him, you’ll come with me.”

Blindly, I get up and follow her out to the elevator. I am silent, though my head is drowning in unasked questions. Meanwhile, Julie is on a diatribe. “Everything comes so easy to you and you just throw it away! I mean, seriously, Zelda! You’re thinking about college? How mediocre can you be? What are you going to do, study economics at some third tier school, like Penn State? I bet you’ll get date raped at your first campus party, drop out, and become a certified accountant. Then you’ll be fat and ordinary, while you waste away in some office building, when you could have had it all. And meanwhile, Yuri chose you, a virgin with no vision. God, it’s such a waste!”

All I can think is:
She hates me. My best friend hates me and she’s right. I didn’t have the vision to notice
.

The elevator doors open and before Yuri can get out, Julie grabs my hand and pulls me in.

“What is happening?” Yuri asks.

Julie presses the very top elevator button. “We’re going to the roof.” The doors close, the three of us are contained, and the air feels so thick I’m not sure I can breathe.

“I thought,” struggles Yuri, “I pick up Zelda to bring her home.”

“You really believed that?” Julie laughs. “I don’t care what you do later, but first we’re roofing.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Julie turns sunny again, pasting on a smile. “You guys have been holding back on me! I know how fun you think roofing is, and I feel so left out!” She drapes an arm around each of our shoulders. “I’ll finally get to see what all the fuss is about.”

The elevator dings and the doors open. Julie uses her key to gain access to the roof. She runs out first and Yuri and I follow with heavy steps.

“I know this isn’t hardcore enough for the two of you,” Julie cries, dancing around the flat surface atop her building. “Not enough of a challenge, right?”

“Is fine,” Yuri answers. “But I am not in mood.”

“Oh really?” Julie sticks her face in his. “How convenient. You always used to be in the mood to do stuff with me, Yuri.”

“I am sorry you had wrong idea,” he answers, but she just laughs.

“No,” he continues, “is not meant to be joke. Zelda and I go now.” He uses his eyes to motion to me, asking me to get back on that elevator, and I almost say yes before my phone vibrates with a text.

It’s from Robin.
We’re here. Where are you?

On the roof
, I text back.
Hurry
.

Then Julie cries out.

“Hey!” she calls. I am shocked at how quickly she managed to jump up onto the railing that surrounds the edges of the building. She is balanced and unmoving, her center of gravity deep. “Now what do you think? Is this dangerous enough for you?”

“Julie, get down!” I run toward her. “Please! I’m sorry about everything, okay? Just please, please get down.”

“No. This is too much fun.” The wind is whipping her hair and she raises one leg into an arabesque. Only the ball of her other foot, planted against the thin, round rail, keeps her from falling to her death.

Yuri doesn’t hesitate. He jumps onto the railing and holds out his arms. “Dance with me?” he asks.

I know Yuri is trying to be kind, thinking if she gives him her hands, he can ease her down. But Julie sneers. “I don’t need your pity!”

The wind billows her shirt and makes her hair fly. I cling to the fact that Yuri hasn’t had the large drink of vodka that Julie did. His hands are still outreached, hoping to grasp onto hers. “I know you are excellent dancer,” he yells over the wind. “This is what roofers do. We balance and we dance.”

“And you take selfies, right Zelda?” Julie glances at me. “Better yet, you should film this, okay?”

“Sure,” I shakily take my phone from my pocket. I turn on the video camera and point it at them. “And once we get some really great footage, you can come down.”

Julie looks skeptical, but she takes a tiny step in Yuri’s direction. Then she does another arabesque. “Can you do this, Yuri?”

He nods. “Sure,” and he models her movement while I film them.

“Julie,” I say, still pointing the camera at her. “What did you do to Robin?”

She keeps her eyes on Yuri. “It wasn’t just me. Nadia and Gabe were very easily convinced; they both believed that bringing Robin down would help them get ahead. So I told Nadia to access the internet on Robin’s tablet, and to distract her while Gabe dumped water on her dress. Oh, and I took Kyla’s scissors and put them with Robin’s stuff. I can’t believe something so stupid got her kicked out.”

“Did you push her on the treadmill?”

Julie raises her arms over her head and for a breathless moment I think she’s going to attempt a pirouette. But she just laughs. “Of course I didn’t push her. The bitch went crazy paranoid. She probably just tripped over her own clumsy feet.”

My eyes have been on Julie and too late I realize that Yuri is reaching for her. She pushes him away which causes them both to lose their balance and slip.

“Yuri, watch I out!” I yell, but it does no good.

Yuri’s feet fly from beneath him, but he catches the railing with one slick palm, leaving his body to hang over the vast expanse between sky and sidewalk. Meanwhile, Julie’s ankle becomes wedged between two rails, and that is the only thing that stops her before she falls forward, head first toward the ground.

They are both hanging between life and death, and if I take the time to try and save one of them, then the other will surely die.

I think fast. Yuri is the easier save. If I give him my hand, he will have the strength to pull himself up and then maybe he can rescue Julie. So I drop my phone and go to him first.

“Help me, Zelda!” Julie’s screams like a terrified, wounded animal, and it pierces right through me. “I’m your best friend! You have to help me!”

I climb onto the railing, not to the top bar but in the middle, and I pitch myself forward, arm outreached. Yuri’s face is bleached white and his lips are shaking at an extremely high velocity, but he manages to take my hand. I literally hold on for dear life, using every ounce of strength to both anchor him and to pull him forward. He’s strong but this feels impossible.

“Please pull harder,” he grunts. Heart pounding in my ears, I close my eyes and see him fall, landing on the ground in an unnatural, bloody mess; his beautiful body meant for dancing turned to wreckage. That image summons some extra reserve of power. I give him one last tug and I fall back, onto the floor of the roof. He mounts the railing like a gymnast on a vault, and then propels himself back onto safe, solid ground.

“Zelda!” Julie cries.

“Yuri, help her!” I yell, but he’s already rushing forward.

He climbs up onto the railing over where she hangs and he uses one hand to grab the ankle that isn’t caught while he uses his other hand to wedge out the ankle that is. He gets her unstuck, but Julie is screaming and writhing in terror. Her body is already propelled forward, but when Yuri tries to pull her up she slams herself back. I hear a sickening thump when her head hits the side of the building at an angle, and then her ankles slip from his grasp.

Seconds later there are screams. Automobiles screech. The world ends.

Horror hits me at full force. “She’s dead.”

Yuri looks over the railing and winces. “Yes.”