Author's Note: So sorry that this took too long! I have recently begun my tertiary education, thus I am a tad busy. You'll never guess who one of the alumni looks like! Okay, while you're guessing…
It must be fairly obvious by now that I'm a big fan of delayed gratification. The apple is sweetest at the top of the tree and so on and so forth…
I fear making everyone else vaguely uncomfortable/bored with the turtle-slow progress of Blake and Andie's relationship, but the end result will be so much more satisfying (and realistic, but to hell with that) if we waaaaaiiiiitttttt a little longer!
Ooooh, and I highly recommend you listening to The Beatles' 'If I Fell', or Googling the lyrics before you read this, so as to get yourselves in the mood...
Fingers crossed for this to be worth the wait…
Chapter 9: If I Fell
Blake
"I've figured out how I'm going to pop the question."
"What?"
Chase grins and shakes his head at my horrified expression. "I'm asking Andie to be my girlfriend, retiring the jersey!"
This announcement seems to call for some sort of approval or congratulations, but all I can come up with is a caustic: "Twelfth time's the charm."
He makes a big show of ignoring me and continues: "We're going to see Swan Lake, once I get my hands on some tickets. Très romantique for a first date, non?" I have nothing to comment on here, besides his appalling French accent, but he goes on, undaunted. "I bought this to seal the deal."
He withdraws a thin, rectangular, velvety box from his jacket and flips it open. A silver chain lies inside, with two entwined Cs at the end. I appraise it for a moment before looking up.
"Does Andie happen to transform into a cow at sunset?"
"What?"
"You seem to like the idea of branding her." The MSA warning bell blares in the distance, but I barely notice it… "That just yells 'Property of Chase Collins!'"
"Sophie thought it was cute."
"You're not with Sophie anymore," I point out, yanking my duffel bag out of the car trunk and slamming down the door.
"Yeah, but that wasn't because-"
"Besides," I add, seizing the opportunity to cut this conversation short, "she doesn't wear jewellery, except for the occasional ring or sweatband…"
"How observant of you," Chase drawls, snapping the box shut. "Swan Lake is still on, though. Thanks for the words of wisdom."
"Don't mention it." Seriously. I would rather he never mention anything to do with Andie ever again. I have heard and seen enough of them, holding hands in hallways, ogling each other across classrooms, passing notes during language tutorials (according to Madame Coquin, who sounds distinctly American when yelling), to be sick of it.
Even more so when I'm constantly reminded of my own hollow, brittle shell of a relationship, by friends and family, demanding to know if Edie, the Edie, the Edie Moss is really in Baltimore, and if I intend to do something about it, and if not, what the hell is my problem…
Days like these have me aching for a vacation. Preferably on a deserted island cut off from all communication with the rest of the world. I just need to find someone capable and crazy enough to take my place…
Andie
Lately I think that if Blake was kidnapped and replaced with a robot, I would never know the difference. He roams around MSA, overseeing its actors and dancers and singers, checking his watch for the dozens of meetings he has to be on time for, and all the while there is this total lack of joie de vivre (thanks for the pop quiz, Madame)…
What really bugs me is the thought that his slump might have something to do with Edie. If she can still make him feel this way, he must still care, right? But far be it from me to ask, to care, to be all up in his business basically…
"All right, class. We've experimented enough for the week. Today we return to that stiff, archaic, regimented art form we all know and love, ballet."
He throws a look my way, like he just expects me to be a smart ass about it. I want to be, I really, really want to be…but knowing what I know makes it hard not to worry about the guy. I hate worrying. I wish I could still see him as the two-dimensional dance teacher, the cardboard cut-out that stops existing once school is over. But this isn't some optical illusion. I can't unsee what I see when I look at him…
"We're going to practice partnering," he ploughs on, blinking a little at my good behavior, "also known as pas de deux. You all need work on your strength in this. All except…where's Jimmie?"
Jodie, this painfully nice blonde chick with 'bad feet', raises her hand.
"Jimmie's gone down with a cold, sir. It's nothing too serious but…"
But Blake would rather quarantine him in the janitor's closet than risk him spreading any germs in the classroom. To tell the truth, I'm kind of relieved. Jimmie tries to help, but usually just ends up making me look like even more of an amateur with his perfectly pointed toes and effortless extensions. I could use a day off…
"Well, we'll have to get by without him then. Andie, you're partnering with me."
So this is how it feels when Karma bitch slaps you. "What? I can't partner with you."
"Because…?" he sighs the question, like the answer makes no difference.
"Because I'll look like an idiot."
"You'll look like an idiot with or without me." Somebody has the balls to laugh at that, but whoever it was stops just as I turn around. "Consider this an opportunity."
I turn back, eyes narrowed to slits, and bow.
"Whatever you say, Your Majesty…"
Blake
Your Majesty…Your Highness…Prince Plié…you would think that such juvenile jibes lose their sting so long after high school. You would think wrong.
"Partnering," I utter through gritted teeth, "is first and foremost, about trust, commitment, eye contact." I illustrate the point; reaching out and tilting her face up. Her glare wanders for a moment, before focusing on mine.
"Without these you can't hope to form a successful partnership. Face the class please, Miss West."
She turns as if facing a firing squad, muscles taut, eyes diverted. I would scoff at her if I had the energy…
"The four major areas of technique in pas de deux are promenades, lifts, turns, and jumps. Mr. Alexander, what is a promenade?"
Moose blinks and scratches his head. "Uh…is that the move where she balances on one leg and you make her spin or turn or whatever?"
"Good enough. Miss West, would you care to help me demonstrate?"
"Not really, no."
I take hold of her hips regardless. "Before you even attempt this, remember to find your centre…"
Andie is technically inferior to every girl in class (not helped by the fact that she consistently forgets to buy pointe shoes), but she has strength and focus. Which is more than can be said for Moose, who seems to weigh less than every girl in class. He lets his partner slip so many times that I genuinely fear for her dancing career.
"Mr. Alexander, one more incident like that and I will dismiss you." The words are barely out before I start to wonder if I should have chosen them more carefully. Moose sags, all confidence evaporating. Andie rolls her head back to fix me with a glower so fierce my face heats up. God, is she actually making me feel bad? "Work on strengthening those feet," I murmur, stepping away. "I'll be right back…"
The gangly teenager sees me weaving through the other pairs, towards them, and starts to shrink behind his partner. It's like watching a baby giraffe hide behind a tree stump…
"All right," I exhale, unfolding my arms, "The lift is nowhere near as difficult as you think it is. Jodie, just remember to pull up. Moose, remember to support. One too many dancers have gone into early retirement because of weak or unprepared partners." Their eyes widen. "But you'll be fine…" Neither of them looks convinced. "Do you want to see a demonstration first?" They nod like bobbleheads. "All right. Class? Andie and I are going to demonstrate the swan lift."
"Oooh, like in 'Dirty Dancing'?"
"Never heard of it. Andie, are you ready?"
"As long as you are."
"Remember to-"
"Keep my shoulders square, my back straight, and my core strong."
"And to trust me."
"I trust you."
She gives me a pointed look, positioning herself. I mirror her, waiting for the run-up. Trust. Andie trusts me. That is a disproportionately pleasing thought…
She strides forward, her gaze never wavering from mine, her steps dedicated, and throws herself at me with as much grace as she can muster.
"Gha!" she yelps, as I take hold of her waist, bend at the knees and push up to raise her over my head. At that moment the class bursts into applause, Chase accompanying the noise with a terrible rendition of 'The Time of My Life'. I barely notice as I bring her back down to Earth…
"More Superman than Swan," she huffs, unwinding her arms from my neck, "but I tried."
It is a little heartbreaking that Andie refuses to see herself in ballet. She is… "Perfect. That was perfect," I elaborate, my eyes still trained on hers.
"Dude," Moose pipes up, snapping me out of what felt a lot like hypnosis. "You're gonna have to kick me out because I cannot do that."
Andie laughs and the sound is oddly heartening, a sudden crack of sunlight on an otherwise cloudy day.
"Kicking you out won't improve your dancing, Mr. Alexander. We'll have to be a little more creative than that…"
The bell blares for the end of the lesson and they all pack up and file out. All except Andie, who seems to hang back out of habit lately.
"What?"
She shakes her head. "Just…smile already! You've got plenty of reasons to! You're a good teacher and a good guy and a…good looker…if that's a word. So try to be happy again. Please?"
I want to tell her to mind her own business, to save her concern for someone who needs it, but the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth makes it hard to utter anything other than a stiff, "That'll be all for today, Miss West…"
I feel oddly unfocused on the way to my office, as if I just stepped off a Tilt-A-Whirl, and almost forget to stop for the secretary.
"Any calls while I was away, Ms. Nielson?"
She glances up at me from her workstation. "You're smiling."
I try and fail to suppress it. "You're not."
"My Neolithic fiancé would rather play poker with his friends than go to see Swan Lake with me. What's your excuse?"
"My students are amusing."
"Well, I'm glad you found something to smile about. How about these to keep it going…?" she reaches into a desk drawer and conjures, "Two free tickets to next week's showing."
"Those must've been hard to get your hands on."
"Yes. But he doesn't care. So neither do I." She speaks as if chewing broken glass and I grimace a little at her thinly-veiled agony. "Look, do you want them or not?"
"Not really, Abigail. You can only dance it for so long before it loses some of its magic. But…" I add, reaching out as she retracts them, "I know two people that would appreciate them a lot more…"
Andie
"Nobody puts Andie in a corner!"
"Haha, Chase. That never gets old. Ever."
"Aw, come on!" he grins, "That was like, every teenage girl's fantasy. You should be having a major squee fit."
"Johnny Castle never made me squee."
"He made me squee," Sophie remarks.
"Me, too," says Moose, making everyone laugh but me…
Look, I have nothing against Johnny Castle. He was a cool guy. But I would never let him lift me the way Blake did. Because I would never trust him the way that I trust Blake. I would never trust anyone the way that I trust Blake.
Don't get me wrong, I have faith in Chase and Moose and Sarah. It's just different with him. He's not a friend or a boyfriend or a guardian. There are no obligations, no games, no bullshit. I know that if I fell he would catch me…
"But seriously now, folks," Chase says, putting on his serious face. "I want to be the only guy that makes Andie squee."
My eyes go wide as I glance at Sophie. She raises her eyebrows before grabbing Moose by the hand.
"Let's go to the bathroom."
"Together?"
"No," she mutters. "Let's just go to our respective bathrooms together."
"But I don't need the bathroom."
"Well, I do."
"But-"
She drags him off without another word, leaving us to stare after them in the almost empty hallway…
"So it looks like we have two options here," Chase says, like there was never any break in the conversation. "We either: a) Date or b) Circle each other in a fun but ultimately futile dance of unresolved sexual tension. Your thoughts?"
I gawp at him for a minute, completely clueless. Sophie wants me to play the game or whatever, but that is easier said than done. Chase is the pro here. I am the rookie. How do I beat the odds? And how does the game end? Is it like 'Chicken'? Does he win if I give in first and ask for commitment? Do I lose? Should there be winners and losers in relationships? And how is it that I feel so sure about falling with Blake, but so unsure about even jumping with Chase?
"Well…" I murmur, trying for total cool. "We should probably have some sort of trial run."
"Also known as a 'first date'. How about next Friday night?"
"That should work."
"Then it's a deal," he grins broadly, stepping closer. "Shall we seal it with a kiss, Miss West?"
"That should work," I say, tilting my grinning face up to his…
"Ahem." We pull apart abruptly; faces flushed, and grimace at Blake. He stands with his hands in pockets, looking more awkward and aggravated than I have ever seen him. "Don't you have one more class today?"
"Yeah, we were on our way to it. Thanks," Chase adds, sounding less grateful than I have ever heard him. "Is that all, man?"
He narrows his eyes at his brother. "Well, I was going to give you something…"
"What was it?" I ask, trying to ward off the weird silence.
He glances at me, the storm clouds in his eyes clearing a little. "I uh…had some extra notes on the pas de deux that I forgot to give out. I thought you two could pass them on to your classmates. But you're…busy...at the moment, so…it can wait until tomorrow."
Blake walks off without another word. I stare after him until Chase reminds me that we still do have another class to get to…
A/N: Teeheehee! I have to laugh at myself, writing in ballet terminology like I know what the hell it means! I honestly have a vague idea, having watched 'Center Stage' (bet you caught the reference, hehe) and that hollow, heartless 'Step Up 2' rip off they tried to sell as a sequel…
Speaking of dance movies- R.I.P Patrick Swayze and Michael Jackson! I shall be watching both 'Dirty Dancing' and 'This Is It' over the course of the week...
Review?
