The Storm Before the Calm (6 page)

His gaze locked with mine, and I quickly looked away, hoping I hadn’t been too obvious. I could feel the blush creeping into my cheeks. I took a sip of my water, trying to quell the rise of heat. Looking up, I saw the guy still staring at me. I dropped my gaze to the ground once more.

I could feel my pulse pounding, and it was difficult to swallow. I wanted to sink into the floor. People looking at me had always made me feel uncomfortable—unless I was dancing, that is—but somehow this guy, who was possibly one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen, looking at me sent me into a tailspin of self-consciousness that left me dizzy.

The students erupted into applause, a couple of people adding some whistles and whoops to the upsurge, pulling me out of my head.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you have a wonderful intro day!” Grace said, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

Chapter Six

I
WAITED
my turn as all the students rushed to the back of the room to read their placement for the day. When most of the group had cleared out, I checked the list, running my finger down the list of names until I saw mine. I was to begin in the contemporary class in the room across the hall. I smiled. I loved contemporary. It was one of my strengths and a good way to start out.

I walked to the room, wiping my palms on my shorts as I did. Just because I was excited didn’t mean I wasn’t still nervous as hell. Most of the dancers were already in the room, stretching and warming up. I took a spot near the back and did the same, looking around and taking it all in while I stretched out my hamstrings.

There were six girls and one other guy. It looked like most small classes I’d ever taken, predominantly female, most of them wearing tight shorts and sports bras, a couple with leg warmers. The other guy was sitting across the room and looked nice enough. Short brown hair, tall and slender. Two of the girls sat at the front talking together. They obviously knew each other from somewhere. Everyone else basically kept to themselves. I felt suddenly self-conscious when I realized I was the only person wearing shoes.

I walked quickly to the side of the room, peeled them off my feet, and dumped them next to my water bottle on the floor. I hoped no one had noticed. I knew shoes were a stupid thing to feel self-conscious about, but it was the first day. I wanted to make a good first impression. Most of these people were probably from New York. I didn’t want to be thought of as the country bumpkin who had no clue what he was doing, even if that’s exactly what I was. Well, maybe not the country bumpkin part, but I had no idea what I was doing.

I took my place once again at the back and resumed stretching. I was midway into a backbend when a girl walked up to me and stood in front of me expectantly.

“Hi,” I said hesitantly.

“Hey,” she said, grinning widely at me. “I’m Andy… well… Andrea. But everyone calls me Andy.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you too.” She plopped down next to me, sitting cross-legged while facing me. “Are you from here?”

I shook my head. “South Dakota. You?”

“New Jersey. But don’t tell anyone.”

She winked at me. I liked her immediately. She reminded me of Emily a little. Not so much in the way she looked. Andy was petite, with high cheekbones and very blonde hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. If her ears had been pointed, she would have looked like an elf.

“Is this your first time at Free Rein?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’m a little out of my element. How about you?”

“Yep, same here. Not the out of my element part, but my first time. Yeah. So far I love it.”

I chuckled. “We’ve barely started.”

“Yeah, but there’s like this energy, you know? Can’t you feel it? Like magic seeping up from the floor.”

“I guess.” I didn’t really know what she meant. There was a feeling to this studio that was poles apart from the one I’d been at my whole life, but I’d chalked that up to the familiar versus the unknown. The peeling pink paint that covered the faux-wood paneled walls back at my studio was comfortable. I knew every dip and divot in the linoleum floors. I knew where to kick the bottom drawer in the tiny kitchen so it would easily slide open. I’d spent more time in that space than I had in my own house over the past decade and a half.

The rooms here felt foreign to me. The people were strangers, and I was alone in this place. Oddly enough, I wasn’t as terrified as I thought I’d be. The familiarity of dance was holding me together, keeping me from flying apart with the fear of it all.

The instructor, Sophie Diaz, floated into the room a moment later, followed by the guy who had been staring at me earlier. The temperature of the room suddenly felt like it had climbed twenty degrees. I took a deep breath and willed my now-pounding heart to slow back down to a normal rhythm.

“Hello, everyone, my name is Sophie, and I’ll be going through the contemporary curriculum with you. This is Max. He’ll be my assistant for the remainder of the summer. To get started, Max is going to take us through a warm-up. Today’s a sample class, so we’ll do a short floor section and then a bit of choreo to introduce you to my style.”

She walked over to the stereo, plugged in her iPod, and turned up the music. Max took his place at the front of the room, his air of confidence palpable as he stood with his feet spread and began the side stretches. The movements were a bit out of order but so familiar to me. It was like a universal language, spoken by all dancers everywhere. My body knew the words, and I followed along with Max as he led the class.

I could feel my muscles stretch, and the well-known sting from the scars on my ribs was conspicuously absent. I realized it had been a few days since I’d had my last run-in with a razor. This was possibly the longest I’d gone without cutting, a realization that left me feeling lighter than I ever remembered.

Once the class was adequately warm, Sophie took us through a short piece of choreography. It was beautiful. With learning contemporary from an unknown instructor, there’s always a risk that it would be a little too out there for me. I like my contemporary simple and clean, and Sophie’s style was just that. I bent and flowed with the music, running through the steps over and over. The repetition was reassuring, and I never wanted to stop.

I was surprised when the hour was over. I’d have given anything to keep going, to learn the rest of the steps. It felt incomplete, like when you have to get out of the car halfway through listening to your favorite song on the radio. I walked over to where I’d left my water bottle, picked it up from the floor, and emptied the remainder down my throat, reminding myself that I was signing up for the class and I had the whole summer to savor Sophie’s steps.

“Wasn’t that great?” Andy asked, bounding up to me, wisps of hair falling, framing her face.

“It was awesome,” I agreed.

“I love Sophie’s style. Are you going to sign up for contemporary?”

“Definitely.”

“That’s great,” she said. “Maybe we could partner on one of the pieces. I was watching you. You’re really good.”

I blushed. “Thanks,” I said.

“Are you ready for ballroom next? If we get to choose partners, wanna be mine?”

I checked the paper I’d written my temporary schedule down on. Andy was right. Ballroom was next, something I’d never been overly interested in, but I was willing to try it. If I was going to take risks and broaden my horizons anywhere, it was here.

“Sure. Sounds good to me.” I was actually relieved. The thought of having to try to find someone who wanted to partner with me sounded intimidating.

“Great! Let’s go!”

She bounced out ahead of me. I picked up my things and followed her out of the room.

“Charlie?” I heard a voice behind me calling.

I turned, more than a little stunned to see it was Max.

“It’s Charlie, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, uneasy and a bit confused as to why he would want to talk to me.

“You did awesome,” he said.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out. I couldn’t seem to form the words.

“Are you going to sign up for Sophie’s class?”

I nodded.

He grinned at me—a grin that melted me from the inside out.

“Good. I’ll see you around, then.”

I nodded again. “Yeah. See you around.”

B
Y
THE
end of the day, I’d conquered contemporary, ballroom, tap, hip-hop, ballet, and acro. The fact that I hadn’t fallen on my face or had a panic attack in the middle of any of the classes was a triumph for me. Double triumph was that no one seemed to immediately hate me. I wasn’t feeling at home yet, but I was beginning to feel like this might be a place I could belong. For the summer at least.

I’d chosen my classes: contemp, ballet, acro, and tap. I loved jazz, but contemporary edged it out, and they were so similar that I wanted to have a more diverse schedule. The instructors had all been fantastic, and despite the fact that my feet felt like someone had spent eight hours smashing the soles of them with a sledgehammer, I was hopeful the summer would live up to my expectations.

For now, though, the thought of trying to walk to the subway and then make my way back to Ginny’s apartment was painful, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Hopefully she would have some ibuprofen and ice packs handy. I didn’t remember ever feeling that tired in my life. My whole body ached with a fatigue so strong I wanted to cry. I trudged my way up the street, thankful Addison had told me I was allowed to leave my things in the lockers. It saved me having to carry everything back and forth every day, and less to carry sounded like a godsend right about then.

I made my way down the steps to the subway platform and waited for the train, double-checking I was on the right side. When the train pulled up, I dodged the people exiting and found a spot near the door to sit. As the weight lifted off my feet, I felt the immediate rush of blood to my heels, followed by the deep throbbing as the ache settled in.

By the time I reached Ninety-Sixth Street, my eyelids were drooping and I was ready to crawl into bed that very moment. I gave an inward groan at the fact that I still had several blocks to walk. Going from dancing three hours every night to a full eight-hour day was going to be hell on my body, but it would be worth it.

Once I’d arrived home, I scarfed down the meal Aunt Ginny had left for me in the fridge, making a mental note to thank her and do some meal planning of my own. I didn’t want to be relying on her all summer to provide for me. She was busy enough with work, and I was more than capable of taking care of myself. I’d been in charge of meals at home for a long time. My mom wasn’t able to do it all, so I picked up the slack. It wasn’t that I felt like my mom had fallen short in taking care of me. I was old enough to pull my weight around the house, and honestly, I enjoyed helping out. It made me feel like I was less of a burden somehow.

I put my plate and cutlery into the dishwasher, made myself a sandwich to take for lunch the next day, and then got ready for bed.

I climbed onto the mattress and leaned my back against the wall as I dialed my mom’s cell phone number. It rang twice, and then I heard the echo of her voice over her speakerphone.

“Charlie! Good timing. You caught me in the car on my way to work. How was your first day?”

“It was good. It was kind of different, but I was able to try all the classes and choose my favorites.”

“That’s great! How are the teachers? The other students? Did you make any friends?”

“The teachers are fantastic. They’ve all done things that are so impressive. I don’t feel like I belong here, but I plan on getting everything I can out of the next few months anyway. I met a couple of people, but I wouldn’t say friends. Not yet anyway.”

“Was everyone there new?”

“No,” I said. “A few people have done the intensive before. There are junior teachers too who are closer to my age. They’re all new with the company.”

“Maybe they’ll offer you a spot!” my mom said excitedly.

“Maybe,” I said, keeping the doubt from my voice.

“I just got to work, so I should run, but keep me up to date on everything you’re doing.”

“I will, Mom. Have a good night at work.”

“I will, baby. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I put my phone down, and, after double-checking my alarm was set properly, I lay back, clicking the lamp off next to me. I was asleep moments after my head hit the pillow.

Chapter Seven

I
ARRIVED
at the studio a little before eight the following morning. It was getting easier to navigate where I was going, and I found myself double-checking things less frequently. I was able to keep my head up and look around rather than concentrating on the GPS on my phone as I walked down the busy streets.

Addison was already there when I arrived, filing her nails, her feet propped up on the desk.

“Good morning,” she greeted me, pulling her feet down and sitting up straighter.

“Morning,” I replied, smiling at her.

“I have your schedule for you,” she said, grabbing a file folder from the corner of her desk and leafing through the sheets of paper inside. She found the one she was looking for, pulled it out, and handed it to me. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking it from her and looking it over. I’d gotten all the classes I wanted, which made me very happy. I was starting out the day with acro, up on the top floor in the small studio. With the exception of the hour I’d spent the day before, I’d never taken a class that was solely acrobatics. It had always been incorporated into my contemporary classes, kind of a passing thought that added flair to group routines.

I grabbed my stuff from my locker, then headed up to the room to get warmed up before everyone else arrived.

The studio was empty when I got there, the lights still off. I found the switch on the wall, flicked it on, and walked inside. The temperature was cool, despite the warmth outside. I sat on the floor, pulling my feet in sole to sole, and pressed down on my knees. I could feel the pull in my hips as well as in my back. The bed at Ginny’s wasn’t the most comfortable I’d ever slept in, and that coupled with the intense physical day I’d had the day before meant I was more than a little stiff.