Leaps & Lies

Chapter Three

I n the time it took Vivian to locate Maureen from administration, introduce herself, change out of her street clothes, twist her frizzy ponytail into an almost neat bun, and be ushered into Studio B for the YA (15–20) Company Class, Hat Guy had arrived. He stands at the front of the room talking to an intimidatingly beautiful blonde woman. They’re speaking quietly enough that Vivian can’t catch a single word from across the room, but her heart sinks into her stomach anyway.

The woman is wearing a long wrap skirt that could belong in a boardroom or next to a barre. Her white-blonde hair is smooth, and her posture is excellent. Despite the contrast of the woman’s elegance with Hat Guy’s casual attire, the blonde appears closer in age to Hat Guy than to Vivian. She’s radiating a commanding and addictive energy. This woman could order Vivian to practice beats until her feet go numb and Vivian would thank her for the honor. In contrast, Hat Guy looms like a specter coming to haunt Vivian for her lies. With the brilliance of the August sun no longer blinding her, Vivian does her best to covertly study Hat Guy from across the room. With curly brown hair that’s escaping from underneath his ball cap, a tall and lean frame, and thighs that fill out his jeans far too well, he’s even more handsome than Vivian’s initial assessment. It’s devastating.

Together, Hat Guy and Blonde Lady make a beautifully impressive pair, statuesque at the front of the room.

“Today’s class is being run by Ms. Renee. She also handles casting and choreography,” Maureen gushes as she leads Vivian toward the pair. “Since we’re a newer company, we wear several hats.”

Maureen fiddles with her necklaces, and Vivian nods absently in response. If Ms. Renee is willing to believe that Vivian is nineteen, she doesn’t care how many hats the other woman wears.

Studio B is littered with dancers along the perimeter in various states of stretching and dressing. Aside from the unfamiliar faces, it looks remarkably similar to every studio Vivian has seen on TV or online. Polished wood floor and sturdy barres lining two walls. The wall opposite the door is covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and a folded, thick mat lies next to a built-in audio/stereo system.

It’s far nicer than Brighton Harbor Dance back home, but it’s built with the same bones. Familiar, but nicer in all the best ways. The square windows along the top of one wall allow the natural afternoon sun to shine in. Sunlight bounces off the white walls, basking the studio in an ethereal glow. Despite the August heat, the studio has a comfortable temperature that hints at the presence of air conditioning. It’s a far cry from the tiny, humid basement ballet studio Vivian grew up in.

Vivian catches a few dancers throwing glances her way, but she doesn’t react as Maureen continues to drag her across the room to Blonde Lady—Ms. Renee—and Hat Guy.

How does he know Ms. Renee? Does he work here? Are they together?

Maureen stops them in front of the pair with a warm hand on Vivian’s shoulder.

“Renee, this is Vivian Ladoe. She’s here for your 2:30 class.”

Ms. Renee reaches a manicured hand out to Vivian and flashes a dazzling smile.

“Nice to meet you, Vivian. I watched your open audition, and I’m interested to see how you fare today.”

Despite the polite handshake and smile, the words land as a challenge.

It doesn’t matter. Vivian’s here for a soloist role and Ms. Renee’s dazzling, shark-like smile isn’t going to stop that. Vivian knows in her bones that she can handle anything this woman throws her way.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Ms. Renee. I’m confident that you’ll be happy with my performance.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed that neither Ms. Renee nor Maureen elects to introduce Hat Guy. In the bright fluorescents of Studio B, Vivian can finally inspect his face. It’s indeed just as attractive as the rest of him. A strong bone structure frames a pair of green eyes, brown hair curls out from beneath his hat, and he boasts a jawline sharp enough that Vivian could use it to shave. On second thought, the idea of his jaw anywhere near her legs sounds fatal. She couldn’t survive this man’s face so close to her skin.

With one last cursory glance at Hat Guy’s jawline, Vivian turns to Maureen.

“Thank you, Maureen. Is there any other information or paperwork you need from me?”

Vivian hates to ask. She’s holding her beating heart in her bare hands and praying Maureen won’t spear it by asking for her ID, but she needs to know. If everything is going to fall apart, let it happen now while she can still pretend this was all a comical accident.

Maureen smiles and her layered gold necklaces clink together. “Not right now. When Ms. Renee is done with you, we’ll see if there’s anything else I need.”

It’s clear that someone has carefully trained Maureen not to give anything away because she’s deliberate with her words.

We’ll see if there’s anything else I need. We’ll see if they cast you.

Maureen’s doubt only solidifies the confidence in Vivian’s gut.

“We’re starting in five so please warm yourselves up enough to begin at the barre!” Ms. Renee calls to the room before turning to Vivian. “Do you need a warm-up or can you get ready for barre?”

Vivian doesn’t bristle, but it’s a near miss. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“You can use any of the cubbies at the back of the room for your belongings. Pick one that isn’t labeled.”

Vivian nods at Ms. Renee and crosses the room to the tall shelves set against the wall next to the door. The room has emptied out some, the dancers from the earlier class gone and only about fifteen dancers remain. They’re in various states of stretching and putting on shoes, leaning on the barres and quietly chatting.

She’s hunting for an empty and unlabeled cubby when a bright voice chimes from her left. “There’s one left next to mine if you want it.”

A girl with shiny, dark chocolate-colored hair wrapped into a braided crown uses a water bottle to gesture at an empty cubby. “Some of the dancers get a little . . . possessive of their cubbies. Even when they aren’t here to use them.” The girl rolls her eyes, and Vivian immediately understands. There’s a reason for the stereotype about dancers and divas.

“I’m Scarlett. It’s been a while since we’ve had any newbies.”

“Vivian. Thanks for the cubby tip, but I’m not new.”

Scarlett raises a sculpted eyebrow, and Vivian immediately envies her flawless pale skin. She’s beautiful in that tall, willowy way every dancer dreams of being. Scarlett appears younger than Vivian, but she’s probably right around Vivian’s fake age of nineteen.

“I’m new to the city and Ellapond but not this ,” Vivian says, gesturing to the studio with a pointe shoe in hand.

“Well, good luck either way. Ms. Renee is no joke,” Scarlett answers.

Right on cue, Ms. Renee claps her hands and walks to the middle of the room.

“Just a quick announcement and then we’ll begin at the barre.”

When Vivian glances around the room, every dancer is gazing at Ms. Renee with rapt attention, devotees waiting for their gospel.

Vivian’s going to dazzle this woman who has every dancer in the room hypnotized. She’s going to dazzle Ms. Renee, and she’s not going to pay any attention to Hat Guy, who is inexplicably still loitering in the corner.

“As you are aware, we are casting for our winter performance. By the end of the week, we expect to have all principal and soloist roles filled.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Vivian can see Scarlett nodding. This must not be news to her.

“I am pleased to announce that Mr. Julian will be assisting with the production. Though he has been with us for only a few weeks as an artist-in-residence, he’s performed countless pas de deux. His experience with partnering will be invaluable to this production.”

When Ms. Renee gestures to Hat Guy—no, Mr. Julian— Vivian’s heart sinks. If he’s involved in casting, she has no hope of even making it into the corps de ballet.

“Please give him a warm welcome.”

The room fills with polite applause.

Vivian’s cheeks burn, and Mr. Julian nods.