Leaps & Lies

Chapter Twenty-Five

R eturning to rehearsing with Alex is fine, ideal even.

Vivian’s injury—and subsequent inability to immediately jump back into trusting him—has put a damper on their burgeoning friendship. Rehearsal has been awkward, the time previously spent stretching and gossiping before and afterward is now filled with stilted silence and cordial—if not impersonal—nods. But it’s fine. Awkward but fine.

When he lifts and spins her, it’s always with a grip just shy of too tight, as if he’s learned that his clammy hands were the original culprit and is trying to make up for it by squeezing her in a death grip. But it’s fine. There are worse things than a partner with a firm grip.

What’s not fine is the way Julian stares at her from across Studio C. The way his tongue peeks out to lick the corner of his lips before he corrects their steps. The way his hungry gaze meets her desperate one in the mirror. It’s not fine at all.

It’s tense—in decadent ways that remind her of teeth set against skin and obscene kisses. But it’s also terribly distracting when Alex is standing at her shoulder, asking if she’s ready to run through the variations again.

There are barely two weeks left until opening night. It’s the worst time to be getting distracted. Not when there’s still choreography to perfect and tech week to survive.

Too bad that no one told Julian. Vivian should be rehearsing extra. She should be running and stretching and rehabbing her shoulder, even though it’s definitively healed by now. She should be prepping for tech and catching up with Scarlett and probably even trying to mend her friendship with Alex—if only to avoid visible tension onstage.

Instead, she’s mentally reliving all her time spent with Julian like a slideshow of indulgence. Dangerous teeth. Messy hair. Strewn bedsheets. Midnight breakfast. Fingers crooked inside of her while she slept. Bite marks and bruises everywhere .

The dangerous soaring in her stomach from the way he gazes at her. The way he touches her. The things he whispered to her when he woke her up early, already thrusting into her as she fought off a blanket of sleep. Or the way he greets her at the door with a mind-melting kiss when she comes over after rehearsal. The way he never seems to stop staring.

Being a studio-length away from Julian and not eye-fucking him violently feels impossible. But ignoring his commanding presence is even harder.

“That’s all for today,” he says, breaking the insane way Vivian had been staring at his hands. Those hands and fingers that on countless occasions have—

Nope. Nope. No.

They are at Ellapond. Where they both work. Where he is her instructor. Where everyone thinks she’s nineteen . Where coming clean about their— Does a string of hookups that feel like more count as a relationship?— relationship would mean admitting to lying at her audition.

All in all, Vivian’s fucked.

Tech week starts so smoothly that Vivian never could have expected it would take a turn for the worse. Monday and Tuesday are practically perfect. She nails her duets, and the group numbers go off without a hitch. Music is cued on time, lighting changes are appropriately dramatic, and everything is perfect. Too perfect.

By Wednesday, things begin to unravel. First, a piece of the set breaks, a wooden board painted to depict a tree snapping clear in half. Then Ms. Renee decides to skip right over the seventh number, leaving Vivian scrambling to change costumes in the wings. Alex seems inexplicably cranky and practically refuses to meet Vivian’s gaze after he’s late to meet her for a set of assisted turns.

If Wednesday is messy, Thursday is downright disastrous.

“I know why you landed principal, and if you don’t step down before opening night, everyone else will know too.”

Vivian’s in a mostly empty dressing room backstage, settling her frustrations by breaking in a new pair of pointe shoes. She’s already cut, sewn, glued, and taped them to her liking, and now she’s thwacking them against the concrete floor. Molding the shank and toe box until they reach the perfect midpoint of flexible but supportive.

Kelsey’s looming over where Vivian sits in a dusty corner, supplies strewn about.

“Because I deserved it?” Vivian asks, already sick of this conversation. Since the very moment Kelsey first got in her way, stretching and glaring obviously, she’s made it a point to stay out of the younger girl’s way.

Jealousy is nothing new to Vivian, despite historically being on the other end of it. Finding ballet in middle school means that she’s always been behind the curve. Always coveted the head start other dancers have on her. Between her relative inexperience and financially modest upbringing, she’s always had to work harder, do more with less. She tries her best not to let her jealousy bubble over into resentment, but it’s clear that Kelsey doesn’t share the same beliefs.

“Because you’re a fucking slut,” Kelsey bites out under her breath. She fusses with her bun, staring into one of the mirrors at a dressing table.

“Excuse me?” Vivian squawks. There’s no love lost between the two girls, but Vivian didn’t predict an escalation quite so dramatic.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Kelsey taunts. “I don’t know how you got to Mr. Julian so quickly, but that has to be why he cast you. God knows it wasn’t for your performance. I just don’t know how he got Ms. Renee on board.”

Something twisted and ugly churns in Vivian’s stomach, a physical manifestation of fear and insecurity. She knows that Julian didn’t cast her because they were sleeping together because when she auditioned back in August, they weren’t . But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t given her preferential treatment since the nature of their relationship changed . . .

And it also doesn’t mean they won’t both lose their jobs if Kelsey opens her big mouth. Kelsey telling Ms. Renee about their relationship would mean trouble for Julian if everyone thinks Vivian is a teenager or trouble for Vivian if they find out she isn’t. If Kelsey tells Ms. Renee—or anyone at all—they’re fucked .

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You really shouldn’t spread rumors,” Vivian bluffs, operating purely on instinct.

“Oh, that’s cute. You don’t believe me?” The younger girl scoffs before she says the three words that ruin everything. “I. Saw. You.”

Even spoken softly, Kelsey carefully enunciates so that Vivian can’t miss a word.

They’ve been careful, so careful, but no one is perfect. Liquid ice runs through Vivian’s body, an instant spike of fear.

“What do you want?” she asks, knowing that denial is no longer a feasible solution. She thought they’d been careful, but from the glint in Kelsey’s eyes, it’s clear that the other girl knows something.

“Cancel your audition with Renaissance.”

“Cancel what audition?” Vivian stares up at Kelsey, pointe shoe heavier than a brick where it’s forgotten in her lap.

“Don’t play dumb. If I’m auditioning, I’m sure he secured you one as well. Cancel it.” Kelsey finally turns a brown-eyed glare on Vivian, peering down at her over the nose she’s caked in too-yellow foundation.

It’s a shame to see such venom in a dancer so young. A shame that Kelsey is already so jaded and hateful.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kelsey. I don’t have any auditions scheduled.”

The delight that sparks in Kelsey’s expression is dangerous, the grin of a predator as it corners its prey.

“Oh, really?” She laughs, but it rings through the dressing room sound closer to the cackle from an evil witch. “Guess he saw through you sooner than expected.”

“Viv, do you mind if we run the woodland number again? Ms. Renee wants to try something different with the spotlight.” Alex appears in the doorway moments later, red hair askew as though he’s been ruffling it impatiently.

“Break a leg, Viv ,” Kelsey says, flitting around Alex and exiting the room, a smug expression cemented on her face.

Viv:

We need to talk.

Jules:

My place after tech?

Viv:

No. Let’s meet at the studio.

The irony of waiting for Julian in the parking lot of Ellapond—the first place they met—isn’t lost on Vivian. It seems fitting that she should ask him about Kelsey’s comments in the same place that he first accused her of trespassing. Something about coming full circle and the balance of right and wrong echoes in Vivian’s mind as her pulse races while she waits for Julian.