Leaps & Lies

Chapter Seven

W hen they break for lunch, Alex is quick to seek out Scarlett, and consequently, Vivian. The girls are untying their skirts and slipping on pants and shoes—ratty, oversized sweatpants for Vivian and cropped leggings for Scarlett—when Alex finds them.

“Timmer, meet your new girl, Vivian,” Scarlett introduces. Vivian raises an eyebrow.

“’Cause you’ll be dancing together,” Scarlett clarifies quickly. “As partners.”

Vivian can’t help but laugh at the younger girl’s quick backtracking.

Alex is tall and lean with shaggy, disheveled strawberry-blond hair. Based on his baby face, lack of stubble, and slim build, Vivian would guess he’s around Scarlett’s age. His lips are curved into an easy smile when he bumps Scarlett with his empty water bottle. He beams at Vivian and thrusts a lanky hand forward.

“Alex Timmer. I answer to either.”

“Vivian Ladoe. I prefer Vivian.”

While they chat through mouthfuls of overpriced but crisp salads and iced coffee, Vivian learns that Alex and Scarlett have known each other for years, even before Ellapond. Being only a year apart in age, they first met at Relevé Dance Camp in primary school and have shared a studio and stage countless times since then.

They steal off each other’s plates as they talk, but there’s an underlying tension when they discuss Ellapond that hints at rivalry bubbling below the surface.

As partners go, Vivian decides that she could be in much worse hands than Alex’s—even if his grip does appear rather gangly.

“So, what do you make of Ellapond so far, Vivian?” Alex asks as he loudly slurps the last dredges of coffee from his cup.

“I’m so thankful to have been cast—”

Alex is quick to interrupt her carefully neutral response. “Sorry, I should’ve been more specific. What do you honestly think of Ellapond?”

He and Scarlett both lean in, as if suspecting Vivian will reveal some priceless gossip or impart the inspirational wisdom that landed her a principal role.

Vivian sips her iced coffee and clears her throat, stalling for an answer that will straddle the careful line between honesty and professionalism.

“Okay. Really?”

Alex and Scarlett nod so enthusiastically it’s almost comical.

“I am really thrilled and thankful to have been cast. I know how rare it is to walk in off the street and get cast as principal. It almost seems . . . too good to be true, ya know? When I woke up for rehearsal, I kept expecting Maureen to call and tell me there’d been some misunderstanding. That I only needed to show up for company-wide rehearsals because I’d been demoted to corps.”

Alex and Scarlett share a loaded stare that would have Vivian probing for answers if only she knew them for longer.

Alex shakes his empty cup, ice clinking loudly before leaning in and lowering his voice. “You should know what happened to our last principal.”

Scarlett swats at Alex with her plastic forks, tines bending slightly where she flicks his bicep. “Stop making it sound like a ghost story.” Scarlett turns to Vivian, eyeing her head-on. “It was weird but not ghost-story weird. Right before opening night—”

“I heard it was tech week,” Alex interrupts.

“Oh, were you there?” Scarlett retorts, tossing her dark braid over her shoulder before swatting him again with her fork.

“Stop hitting me! And no, I wasn’t there, but I heard from Kelsey—”

“Kelsey! Since when does she qualify as a reliable source of information?”

“Will you two stop bickering long enough to tell the story or what?” Vivian interrupts. “And should we be heading back soon? How strict are lunch breaks?”

“What time is it?” Scarlett asks, even as she’s grabbing Alex’s phone out of his hand to check the time.

“Shit! Ms. Renee is going to kill us if we bring her new star back late on the first day. Let’s go, and I’ll tell you the story on the way.”

The three dancers scramble to clean their lunch trash from the tiny round table before hurrying out the door toward Ellapond.

As they’re speed walking down the sidewalk, doing their best to hurry without sprinting, Scarlett says, “Basically, the last principal was injured right before opening night. Ms. Renee said she’d be out for a few weeks on medical, but then they recast the entire show last minute. They didn’t even use the swings they’d already cast. The principal never came back, and I heard a few months ago from Kate that she was in the hospital. I don’t know what happened, but Ms. Renee wouldn’t say much.”

Vivian shrugs wordlessly. Being cast as principal is a dream, one she keeps reveling in for fear that she’ll wake up to find out it’s all been a dream. No one talks about how a dancer’s entire career relies on the integrity of the delicate tissues that support their joints—and their spins, leaps, jumps, and lifts. Ellapond’s former principal dancer isn’t the first to lose out on her career because of an injury, and she certainly won’t be the last.

That’s why Vivian plans to do everything within her power to guarantee her story ends differently.