Disclaimer: I own nothing
Chapter 12
February 8th
Katrina pulled her jacket tighter around herself- the bitter wind was starting to bite that morning and her fingers were going numb in their mittens. She was sitting on the steps of the dance studios re-reading a text. It had arrived whilst she was on the bus, her loud ring-tone prompting the pensioner next to her to give her a truly disapproving look. It had been so crowded on the bus that morning that she couldn't even reach her handbag to pries her phone out of it so she'd had to wait. The text was from Tommy, debunking all the myths that men never called you when they said they would.
Hey Kat,
it's Tommy here's my number
Have a good day.
It made her feel all funny inside when she read it and she kept grinning to herself like a complete idiot. It wasn't exactly the most romantic of messages, no kiss, no declaration of undying love… maybe she was getting ahead of herself? She flipped the phone shut and went reluctantly in to work.
Katrina walked into the soloist's dressing room and was at once struck by the uncharacteristic silence. Everyone was getting dressed very diligently and quietly, looking no one else in the eye. Rounding the corner of the lockers Katrina froze. The "WHORE" was emblazoned on Lauren's locker- in blood red lipstick. Lauren herself was nowhere to be seen but her bag was sitting on the bench, some of the stuff spilling onto the floor. Katrina picked up what had spilt and placed it back inside. She caught Sonja's eye- the redhead shook her head and placed a finger to her lips.
Five minutes later, just as Katrina was putting her hair up into a bun, the door flew open, banging off its hinges and making her jump-spilling bobby pins everywhere. Lauren stalked in, her eyes red-rimmed and cheeks blotchy with crying. She glared accusingly around the room before snatching up her bag and stalking out.
What in the name of God is going on? Katrina wondered. She dragged Sonja into the loos with her so they could finally talk.
"What happened?" she asked, avidly.
"Well you saw her locker didn't you?" Katrina nodded. "Lauren went crazy, literally, I've never seen anything like it. You know she got snow white?"
"Really? Not surprising though, she's an amazing dancer…" Katrina kicked herself for not checking the cast list properly.
"Well now she's claiming she's being bullied- just can't handle people knowing she screwed her way to the top." Scorn laced Sonja's voice.
"Oh I don't know Soni, I think she worked hard to get where she is."
Sonja jumped down from the counter where she'd been sitting, "believe what you want- you shouldn't be so trusting Katy." She headed for the door, leaving Katrina alone and feeling vaguely guilty, both for arguing back to Sonja and for not sticking up for Lauren. Doormat alert, her conscience warned her and for once she had the good sense to listen, squaring her shoulder and going into class with head held high.
Her inner serenity didn't last long. Madame B had her practicing balances for her deer's solo. Up on tiptoe with the other foot behind her head, Katrina's knees began to shake and the older lady pursed her lips. "Again" she ordered and Katrina restarted the sequence, transitioning through the agonizingly slow pattern of movement. Inner peace was the key to this- an empty mind made the balancing easier just like yoga. Unfortunately Madame B's baleful stare was making unwanted thoughts whizz around her mind like a swarm of hornets. She stumbled and tripped into the next pose. "I've seen enough." Declared the ballet mistress, throwing her hands up in despair, "go and practice on your own!"
Grateful not to have been hit with a slipper, Katrina scuttled for the door where she went slap into Lauren coming in the opposite direction. The blond girl glared at her before pushing past into the studio almost slamming the door on Katrina's fingers. Christ no wonder everyone hates her thought Katrina, heading to an empty studio for some more practice. Settling her self in, she fished the CD for her solo out of her handbag. Digging deeper she found her phone, flipping it open and reading Tommy's message again. Tentatively she began to text back.
Hi Tommy,
Thanks for the text
How about that coffee?
She read it and shook her head- coming on too strong. Starting from scratch, she wrote-
Hey Tommy
Liking your new flat?
The area's not great but
the neighbors are fantastic
K
This sounded better, so with a quick prayer she hit send.
Katrina stuck on the music and got up to practice but before the first bar had run though her phone chirped, sending her scuttling back to check it.
The flat's great but I don't
know about the neighbors
Decaf?
She blushed to the roots of her hair clutching the phone to her chest- immensely flattered that he'd messaged back so quickly.
Not wanting to come off needy she set her phone to one side and put the music back to the beginning.
It was hard to focus when all she could think about was what to say back. Should she remind him that he said he would buy her a drink? Should she ask how his day was? Should she play it cool and not say anything at all? The music ended and she realized that she was standing on the wrong leg, facing the wrong way. Concentrate! Katrina chided herself, looking hurriedly at the windows to make sure no one was watching.
Ok try again. The music started and she raised herself up on tiptoe leaning and reaching and tipping to the left but before she could complete the next step, inspiration struck. Abandoning the dance she leapt back to her phone-texting at lightning speed.
Well maybe you should show
me how it's done?
Stopping to reread it she grinned to herself, perfect. She wouldn't send it yet. The music was almost over and Katrina was feeling foolish- like a little girl with her first crush. Putting the phone firmly back in her bag and burying it under a pair of tights she applied herself to practicing with renewed zeal until lunchtime.
"Katy!" someone was running up behind her as Katrina exited the studios for lunch hour. She turned, nearly sliding backwards off the icy steps. "Woah there" Sonja caught her hand just in time.
"Thanks." Said Katrina, stepping safely away from the stairs.
"You dropped your phone by the way." Sonja's eyes were sparkling mischievously. She held it out but as Katrina reached for it she whipped it away. "Who is Tommy?" she asked, phone behind her back.
"Give it Sonja!" Cried Katrina, trying to reach around her friend but Sonja laughed and danced out of reach.
"Who is he?" she asked again.
Katrina briefly buried her face in her hands; she'd never hear the end of this one. "Do you remember the guy who showed me where to go when I got lost on Saturday?"
"Yeah? The hot one with the muscles?" Sonja was now so curious that she didn't notice Katrina's fingers inching toward the phone until she whipped it out of her grasp and scampered down the steps. Sonja gave a squawk of temper and set of after her in hot pursuit.
"Tell me tell me tell me!" she cried as they raced down the icy street. Katrina, having the longer legs pulled away from her but, as they slowed down Sonja caught her arm. She was strong for someone so small.
"Alright alright." Conceded Katrina. "So Tommy, who is gorgeous by the way, is now my next door neighbor!"
"He's stalking you?" asked Sonja.
"That's what I thought at first but actually it's just the world's hugest coincidence, way weird right?"
"Weird good though."
"Weird amazing. Except that I'm gonna have to wear full makeup when I'm at home just in case he knocks on the door."
Sonja laughed, breath solidifying like a cloud in the freezing air, the temperature had fallen again and flakes of snow where lazily drifting down.
"I feel like we should be doing the nutcracker again with this snow." sighed Katrina, snow always reminded of the rare Christmases at home.
"I'd probably get cast as a rat." Replied Sonja, somewhat dourly. She'd been cast as an evil queen for the forthcoming production. Privately, Katrina thought it was just the part for her, not that Sonja was complaining, next to Snow White it was one of the best roles. The group had done well in general; Mark was a prince opposite Lauren, Vlad was a satyr and totally psyched at the possibility of furry trousers. Danni on the other hand had only managed the most basic of background roles and had reportedly been caught crying the bathrooms between classes.
They were almost at the café when Sonja spoke again. "So are you and Tommy… you know…"
"you know- what?"
"you know… doing it… and by it I mean sex."
"uh thanks for that clarification… no, I don't think he fancies me."
Sonja raised her blue eyes to heaven. "Oh Katy, is he gay?"
"not that I could tell…?"
"Then he fancies you." Sonja said with finality, opening the door of the café and darting into the warmth.
"How can you know that, you haven't seen this guy up close, I bet he has women coming out of his ears- groupies."
"Groupies?" asked Sonja as the slid into the booth, she snuggled up close to Vlad. "Do you mean like he's someone?"
"Everybody's someone Soni." Replied Katrina, pretending to peruse the menu, she didn't want the rest of the group interrogating her too- especially as she hadn't sent that text yet. Nothing was on a firm footing.
"But… do you mean he's like famous? A fighter?" asked Sonja loudly as though she'd just heard Katrina's thoughts and as deliberately sending her up.
"Well I don't know about famous, but he's a fighter yes." By now the whole table was hanging on her words, Danni's fork was suspended half way to her lips.
"What's all this?" asked Mark, amusement sparking in his cat-like eyes.
"The world's most gorgeous man has moved into Katrina's apartment block." Gushed Sonja, Vlad frowned at her.
"Okay, second most gorgeous." Mark pretended to pout. "Alright, alright, third best then- but still a knockout. And that's funny because he's a fighter and has groupies!"
"I never said he actually had groupies, I was just speculating!" interjected Katrina, feeling her ears go red.
"Never mind, I'm sure he does." Chuckled Mark, "even I have groupies- have to keep passing them off to friends."
The table burst into laughter- earning them a few looks from builders and auto shop workers massed at the bar.
Katrina's good mood carried her for the rest of the day, not even much dented when she sent her text after lunch and didn't hear back. She floated back to the studios and got on with stretching and warming up her muscles of the evening class- technique and conditioning with Daniel Kline and Madame B. This was the one everyone dreaded. Madame B pushed the dancers to and past their limits in an effort to impress Daniel and the dancers in turn wrung every drop of energy from their already tired bodies in an effort to shine. Katrina had taken to saying a quick prayer before each of these classes- asking God to protect her from making a fool of herself; as though God had anything to do with her petty concerns.
Today however, her hands strayed from their rosary beads and into her handbag to check her phone. It was as though God really was watching over her, she had one new message.
How do you feel about
Irish coffee- tonight.
Dirty thoughts about Irish cream cropped up in Katrina's mind, she could practically see his crooked smile on the other side of the line. How was she supposed to concentrate in class now? Her rosary winked accusingly at her in the dressing room lights. Muttering a Hail Mary as she pulled her hair into a bun, Katrina left the dressing room. This class was going to be the longest of her life.
Much later, after broken toes, after tantrums that shook the studio windows, after Madame B walking out and much impassioned Latin argument, class was over.
Katrina slouched at the back of the bus on the way home, legs crossed on the seat, head resting against the window. She'd pushed herself hard and was already starting to feel her muscles cramp in the tight space. The bus was almost empty, only a few elderly women sat in the rows ahead. She stretched, clicking her knees loudly, flexing her back. Everything ached but in a good way, the ache of hard work, all the same a coffee would do her good.
Pushing open the door to her apartment she bustled inside, dumping her dance bag on the floor and heading into the shower. Soothing her aching muscles under the hot water, she wondered what she should wear to see Tommy. The man slightly unnerved her with his magnetic good looks and intense gaze. Her eyes were always drawn to him wherever he stood, whenever he moved with that strange grace for a man so large and strong.
She dithered over what to wear before realizing she was being silly, this wasn't a date. She firmly put back the pretty pink lip-gloss she was about to put on and reached for a cardigan to put on over her blue strappy top. Putting her thick, dark hair up into a ponytail and putting blusher onto her pale cheeks. She stopped in front of the mirror again; pulling out the pony tail she piled her hair up on top of her head. Satisfied, Katrina made to go. Not a date she reminded herself, just coffee with a hot guy…
Really hot guy…
Reaching Tommy's she knocked softly for a second all was quiet, maybe he wasn't home. Then the door opened and there he was, Tommy had obviously just got in from work he was still in tracksuit and t-shirt.
"Hello." he said, voice gruff, moving aside so that his bulk didn't block the door.
"Hi" Katrina slipped by him into the flat. It was a typical bachelor's pad, no decoration other than two framed photographs on the mantelpiece. Tommy hovered behind her as Katrina looked about; he hadn't been lying about those two boxes being all he was moving in with, all the shelves that in Katrina's flat were stuffed with photos, mementos and farewell cards, were bare.
"Coming?" Tommy led her into the kitchen where the kettle was boiling, a bottle of whiskey stood, mostly empty beside two mugs. Katrina settled on a stool at the table, Tommy busied himself at the kettle. The silence between them stretched, oddly comfortable for two people who were virtual strangers. Tommy flexed his shoulders, straining against his slightly too small t-shirt, Katrina's stomach flipped over.
Tommy pushed a mug of coffee at her across the counter. "Here"
"Thanks" she took a sip and nearly choked- "Tommy! This is err…" she coughed, "strong." The corners of his mouth twitched.
"Too much whiskey?" he asked.
She giggled, alcohol warming her chest and burning down her throat right down to her toes. "I dunno, I kinda like it." she took another tentative sip and nodded in agreement.
"Just what the doctor ordered" said Tommy, raising his own mug in a toast.
They settled on the couch facing each other, Katrina sitting Indian style with a cushion on her lap.
"So, how was your day?" she asked, not sure of the etiquette for non-date conversation.
"Was alright." Tommy nodded thinking for a moment. "Been in the gym today, been sparring for the first time in a while…" he took a swig of coffee. Katrina could see the bruises forming along his knuckles.
"That's exciting, so you actually fight for a living?" she asked in wonderment, "Don't you ever worry about getting hurt?" She felt stupid of asking but Tommy didn't seem to mind, in fact he laughed, somewhat bitterly.
"Already been hurt, dislocated my shoulder last time I was in the cage. Been recovering ever since." He patted the offending limb fondly. "I guess it don't bother me any more." Katrina nodded to show she understood, taking another gulp of Tommy's lethal coffee. She felt her throat burn as it went down but that was nothing to the burn must have felt as his shoulder popped out of the socket. She suppressed wince at the thought.
Alcohol working in her blood she told him about her day, auditions, class, the gossip at the studios, being chased down the street by Sonja. Somewhere along the way Tommy admitted that he'd never been to the ballet.
"No surprises there." She laughed.
"Well you never know, I could be a real sensitive guy" he flashed her one of his rare, crooked smiles.
"Sure, and I might secretly be into weightlifting" Katrina countered, she got a laugh with that one.
"Do you want to go somewhere?" Tommy asked suddenly, Katrina realized that his mug was empty.
"Where?"
"I dunno, out for a walk?" Tommy's knee was bouncing now.
"It's snowing! And minus a million degrees out there!"
"You can borrow a jacket." Not going to take no for an answer Tommy was already up and moving.
"Okay, wait." Katrina drained her coffee.
"You okay to walk after that?" he asked concerned as she swayed a little on standing.
"I'll be alright, its not like they can charge us with SUI."
"What?" Tommy looked stumped,
"Strolling under the influence."
"Oh-" the crooked smile was back- Katrina felt it was a bit of an achievement to pries it out of him.
Tommy lent her a big black fleece that reached almost to her knees like a dress when she zipped it up. Donning a black skull cap and jacket he made to leave, holding the door open for her.
"You look like a burglar." Katrina noted as Tommy locked up.
"And you look like a twelve year old," he countered, "are all ballerinas this short?"
"I'm not that short. I'm tall enough for the New York and Paris companies- grew an inch in my final year at school and that saved me, I'd have been too small otherwise."
"So you can be too short? What happens then?" asked Tommy out of curiosity.
"I dunno, it's harder to find a job I guess, there are rules about how you have too look."
"Sounds a bit of a shit job. If you've got a talent that's what matters." He said bluntly, ushering her down the stairs.
"No worse than getting beat up for a living though." He nodded in agreement. The cold them like a slap in the face as they stepped out of the front doors and Tommy steered her across the street and off into the night.
Looking back the next morning, Katrina couldn't be sure of exactly what they talked about. The events were slightly blurred in her hangover-fogged brain. The pair had wandered down town through the quiet streets. All the normal sounds of the city slightly muted by the fresh fallen snow and lowering clouds. After the initial shock, the whiskey and the bulk of the man beside her kept Katrina warm. She had vague recollections of strolling through a silent park, laughing about something, she did most of the talking but about what she couldn't remember.
One thing however did stick out in her mind, as she lay tangled in her sheets the next morning throat dry and eyes itchy. She'd asked him about his family, tired of talking about herself. For a moment Tommy's eyes were almost black in the hash orange glow of the streetlamps. He was a silent a long time, the only sound being the tramp of their footsteps on the fresh snow.
"My father and brother live here in the 'Burgh… my mom's dead, long time ago."
"I'm sorry to hear it." Katrina said, giving him space to continue.
"This wasn't such a great place to grow up…" Tommy looked away from her, out into the gloom. "Mom and I left the old man behind, then she got cancer." He sighed, plowing on. "After she died I joined the Corps, barely waited for the funeral." She looked up at him and he caught the sympathy in her expression. "I don't want pity." He said shortly, " There ain't nothin' will change what happened but me n' Bren are on good terms now." Katrina took that to be the brother, Tommy's eyes softened slightly as he mentioned him.
"And your dad?" she asked tentatively.
"Not worth talking about." Tommy hunched his shoulders against the cold.
They didn't speak much on the way back, the dark of the night was broken only by the streetlamps and their dull reflection off the snow, a diffuse, soft glow of light.
Katrina knew that Tommy hadn't told her the whole story about his family, she didn't blame him, they were almost strangers after all. She hadn't told him everything either. She remembered Casey chiding her about keeping secrets in school "secrets don't make friends Katy" was what she'd always said.
Glancing at Tommy next to her, his eyes staring far ahead into the darkness, looking across at her every now and when he thought she wouldn't notice, she wanted to know him, wanted him to know her even, secrets and all. What was the best way around this man's armor? Katrina knew the walls around Tommy's heart were as strong as Fort Knox, she knew men like that. He's just your neighbor her inner voice reminded her, emotional healing is off the cards.
Tommy walked her to her door and waited as she slipped off the fleece and handed it to him.
"Thanks for the coffee, I'll sleep well tonight."
"Me too, it was nice to see you..." Katrina could swear he was blushing. As if an inner voice brought her down to earth.
"See you soon?" she asked, feeling a fool.
He nodded wordlessly, his gaze never leaving hers, then he reached down and squeezed her hand briefly, his warm hand dwarfed hers totally enclosing it. This close Katrina could feel the heat coming off him like a furnace. Before her heart had time to skip a beat Tommy turned and headed off towards the stairs. Katrina tingled where he'd touched her a glow in her chest burning like she'd swallowed a whole vat of whiskey.
A/N Sorry for the wait guys! I've been away (excuses excuses!) anyway I hope you can forgive me xx
