The Queen Bee of Bridgeton (11 page)

"Your sister."
  Colbert gave me her patented "duh" look, which Sasha had also adopted.  I shrugged, not knowing what she was talking about.  "Has she told you anything? What is she up to?"  I shrugged again.  Colbert twisted her lips and eyed me skeptically. "Look, just tell her...it didn't mean anything.  Tell her...it's not like I'm in love with him or anything.  And tell her..." Colbert bit her bottom lip and shifted her eyes then said, "Just tell her I'm sorry." Then she scampered away.

Sorry for what?

"So tell me about dancing in Spain," Will said once we were in his car.

"Well, a few years ago Ms. Alexander told me about this festival that takes place every six years in Barcelona. It's extremely prestigious.  Dancers from all over the world come and take part and offer master classes and even give personal critiques of some of your work.  I worked for months on my audition pieces.  One of my numbers was an exact replica of Natalia
Karleskaya's
solo to a Shostakovich concerto.  They not only accepted me to the festival, but I received a personal note from Natalia saying she enjoyed my rendition of her solo and then she gave me some suggestions on how I could make it better.  Can you believe that?  Isn't that amazing?  That's like Michael Jordan writing you and telling you how you can improve that loop up shot thing that you do." 

Will laughed and said, "It's called a lay-up, and I'm surprised you know who Michael Jordan is."

"Of course I do, he's like the Baryshnikov of basketball.  Anyway, I was so excited I spent the next two months completely obsessed with the Spanish language.  I wanted to be able to speak at least a little before I got there.  By the end of the summer, I was fluent."  I continued talking non-stop about everything I'd done while I was in Europe; the dancers I met, the performances I saw, the museums I went to.  Before I knew it forty-five minutes had passed and we were sitting in front of the studio.  Will was so easy to talk to. I don't think I'd told anyone so many details of my trip to Spain. Not even Sasha.

"Well, thanks for the ride, Will." I hoped to just jump out of the car and wave goodbye, but it wasn't going to be so easy to get rid of him. "What are you doing?"  I asked when he opened his door.

"You didn't think I was going to leave you here by yourself this late at night, did you?" He smiled and instantly melted away my defenses. "Why don't you show me your audition piece?"

 Will came around and opened my door for me. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way to get rid of him. I had to give him points for persistence. He certainly wasn't one to give up easily. He seemed downright determined to see where I lived. Deep down I knew I was overreacting. Really all he wanted was to make sure I got home safely. He was being sweet and showing how much he cared about me.

I stepped out of the car and said, "Actually, I have three audition pieces. I'm supposed to showcase different styles and different technical strengths. But I'm not done with the choreography. How about I show you when I'm finished?" Will shrugged not picking up on my tone of dismissal. He stood on the sidewalk waiting for me to unlock the door to the studio. "I'm fine here, Will. I can get home on my own. It's not far."

"You're only
gonna
be a few minutes, right? I can wait." He jammed his hands in his pocket and rocked on his heels. I sighed and went to open the door.

After we entered the studio, I led him to Ms. Alexander's office and sat at her computer. I didn't need another copy of my application, but I printed one anyway. I had to do something to make the trip seem worthwhile.

"What are you auditioning for this time?" he asked as he walked around Ms. Alexander's office.

"It's a festival in Rome. If I play my cards right, I could also get accepted to their academic program and do my senior year of school there.  I've already started working on my Italian."  I cleared my throat and in my best Italian accent said, "
Scusi
,
dov'e
la toilette
?"  Will smiled as he looked at my wall of achievements. One side of Ms. Alexander's office was covered with awards, photographs, and performance programs she had kept to show off my accomplishments.  It was like a little shrine to me. 

"Look at all these awards you've got. Why don't you keep these at home?"

"This place is more my home than my home is. 
If that makes any sense."

"Yeah, it makes perfect sense, actually.  My home really isn't a home either."  That was an interesting piece of information.  Maybe that was why his eyes were sad. He didn't have a happy home life. I hoped he'd tell me more. 

"What do you mean?"  I asked.  Will
looked
at me. I could tell he mentally debated whether he wanted to share something or not.  He suddenly had this emotionally crushed expression on his face.

"Two years ago, both my parents were killed by a drunk driver on their way home from one of my basketball games."  My mouth flew open.  An ambush of tears gathered behind my eyes.

"The driver was 16.  He went to school with me.  He was leaving one party and was on his way to another."  Will
paused
for a moment.  I wasn't sure if he was going to continue or not as he just stared at the wall like he was looking through it.  "I had to leave everything and everyone I knew in Chicago and move in with my older sister, Julia, here in New Jersey," he continued after a few moments.   I didn't know what to say as Will touched some of the awards on the wall wistfully.  "What's worse is that she's an alcoholic, so every day I get to watch her slowly kill herself.  Alcohol took my parents and now it's taking my sister.  That's why I don't drink. 
Ever."

My heart ached for Will.   I wanted to say something to erase his pain, but I couldn't come up with anything.  I stood up from the computer and walked over to him.  I embraced him and held him for a long time.  Then we sat down on Ms. Alexander's couch. 

"It hurts so much sometimes to go out on the court and not see them in the crowd cheering for me."  Two tears streamed down his face.  Will
wiped
them away frantically with the inside of his sleeve.  "I can't believe I'm crying in front of you.  You must think I'm some kind of wimp," he sniffled, trying to regain his composure.

"Actually, I think you're pretty brave for telling me all this."  At that moment, he was the bravest person I knew.  He spilled his guts to me about something so devastatingly personal, and I was afraid to let him find out I lived in
Venton
Heights.  How shallow could I be?

"You're crying, too," he said, brushing a tear away from my face with his fingertips.

"Am I?  I didn't realize.  I just hate to see people in pain."

"I can tell. That's why I trust you so much.  I haven't told anyone here about my family. But there's something special about you.  I knew it the first time I saw you."

"You mean when you attacked me with a door?"

Will smiled.
"Yeah.
That day changed my life. I couldn't get you out of my head. You gave me something to think about besides my own misery. For so long I was afraid to talk to you in person, because I thought there was no way you could live up to what I had built you up to be in my mind."  Will stared at me with eyes more intense than a Wagner overture. I could tell he wanted to kiss me.

"Well, how am I doing?"  I asked.  "Am I living up to what you built me up to be in your mind?"

Will smiled that smile that melted away all my inhibitions, all my insecurities, all my doubts, hell, it melted my brain at that point as he said,
"
You're so much better than anything I could have imagined."  Then he pressed his soft sweet lips to mine and swept me up into a place I'd never been before.  I felt hot and lightheaded and giddy, kind of like how I feel after I nail the turn sequence from Swan Lake in front of a sold out audience, except there was an added sensation; some electric thrill pierced through me that I'd never felt from ballet.            

At first, the kiss tantalized my senses like a delicate caress, but then he dove deeper.  Our lips parted simultaneously and our tongues began a dance choreographed by pure passion. It didn't matter that I had never kissed anyone before and I had no idea what I was doing because he knew exactly what to do.  He knew exactly where to place his tongue so as to massage the tension out of mine.  He knew exactly how to place his gentle hand on the small of my back so as to make even my toes tingle.  And when he moved his lips away from my mouth and nuzzled my neck I could feel my back involuntarily arch and my breasts press against his muscular chest.

I lost myself in his kisses and his hands all over my body. But suddenly, he stopped.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked in a panic.

"Nothing's wrong. I just think we should stop now."

"Why? Oh God, am I a bad kisser?" How humiliating. I bet he could tell that I’d never kissed a guy before and thought I was horrible at it.

“No, God no.
You’re…you’re amazing.” Will stood and walked to the other side of the room as if he had to put distance between us. "It’s me. I’m the problem. I'm a human cancer, Sonya. I'm an awful person who ruins lives. I don't want to do that to you."

"Will, don't say that -"

"Why not?
It's true." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Do you know why I always bring you white flowers?" I shook my head. "Because they symbolize innocence, purity, and beauty and that's what you mean to me. I don't want to ruin that."

It took a full hour to convince Will to let me walk home by myself.  I felt kind of silly still hiding where I lived after he had revealed so much to me, but I'd made a promise to Sasha long before I met him.  I couldn't break that promise to her.  She worked so hard to create a certain image and reputation for herself at Bridgeton. Who was I to come along and shatter that?  Although I knew in my heart I could trust Will, it wouldn't have mattered to Sasha.  She would've just seen it as a betrayal of trust. 

"Will, please, I'll be fine.  I have a can of mace and I'll call you as soon as I get in the door. I walk home alone all the time."

He sighed, tiring of the debate we'd been having, and said, "If I don't hear from you in exactly 25 minutes, I'm calling the police and coming to look for you myself."

He gave me a long kiss then rested his forehead against mine.  He slowly let me out of his embrace then murmured, "I can't believe I'm letting you do this," while getting into his BMW.

I literally had to run and take several short cuts through people's backyards in order to make it from Ms. Alexander's studio to
Venton
Heights in 25 minutes.  But I made it with three minutes to spare.  When I entered the apartment, I noticed my mother had collapsed on the living room couch.  She must've been completely exhausted to be sleeping on that couch.  That couch grossed me out.  We found it on the side of the road after it had been rained on.  Although we cleaned it and dried it, it was still, well, crunchy for lack of a better word.