Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“And fun,” she added. “It should be fun.”
“Yes.” In theory. “And I’m sure next year you’ll be ready for the Classic, and you’ll be phenomenal because you will have honed your fundamentals. In slippers. Beginners compete all the time in slippers. Both Eva and I did until we were thirteen.”
“But Miss Quinn signed me up for the Classic this year.”
I somehow kept my face blank. “Did she?” After only five months? What the hell had she been thinking? Juniper would be going up against dancers with years of experience and training. “As one of the exhibition dancers?”
“No, in the beginner category.” Juniper rubbed her finger along the barre.
I glanced up at Anne in a plea for guidance, but she put her hands up, looking as stunned as I felt. “Okay, and how do you feel about that?” I asked Juniper.
“I don’t want to embarrass myself.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I thought that if I was already en pointe, I’d have a better shot at reaching top twenty.”
At getting hurt, maybe.
“I don’t want to pull out of the competition. What do I do?”
I reached for the lone strand of hair that had escaped her bun and tucked it back behind her ear. “I really think you should consider talking to your mom.”
Juniper stiffened. “She won’t understand. You know she hates ballet.”
“I know she loves you. And I bet she gives really good advice.”
She seemed to think it over, then shook her head. “I can’t. If I make the top twenty, it will show her that I’m good, that I could be as great as you are if she just lets me dance. And by then it will be the middle of August, and she’ll love you too. So, by the time you’re ready to go back to New York, maybe she’ll let me visit you and Aunt Anne.”
Anne took a deep breath and pressed her lips between her teeth.
“Eva, too, of course. It will all work out.”
“Juniper . . .” The further we got into this charade, the worse I felt about it.
“I won’t dance en pointe,” she rushed. “I’ll do whatever you say if we can just follow the plan.”
My heart clenched as I floundered and looked to Anne for the right answer, the right words.
“How about we give Aunt Allie a minute to think, and you help me put together some energy bars in the kitchen?” Anne offered. “They’re chocolate.”
Juniper glanced between us for a second, then at Hudson. “Okay.”
“Excellent.” Anne led her out of the studio, then closed the door behind them.
“I think we should tell Caroline,” I said to Hudson.
“I agree.” He walked across the studio in his socks.
My ribs threatened to squeeze the air out of my lungs. “It could mean Juniper wouldn’t see us again for eight more years.”
“This far into lying to her? Probably.” He lifted a hand, then dropped it, as if thinking twice about reaching for me, which was probably for the best considering the fact that I’d nearly screwed him in a shower the last time he’d touched me. And he wants hours. Days. Nights.
“And she’d pull her out of ballet.” The barre dug into my back as I leaned against it.
“Not sure that’s a bad thing after what I saw at that class.” He folded his arms.
“Not everyone teaches that way.” Shit, that was defensive. I looked over at the picture of Lina, and my chest tightened another degree.
“What are you thinking?”
“Lina loved to dance.” I studied her smile, the little lines that crinkled her eyes. “I mean, she really loved it. She’d been born a dancer, not told she was one. She woke up in the morning excited for class every day, and she spent more time in this studio than any of us. It was her oxygen, her food. She loved it in a way I never . . .” I shut my mouth so quickly my teeth clicked.
“You loved it too,” he whispered.
I dragged my gaze from the picture to meet his.
“I was there, Allie. You loved it too.” He cradled the side of my face, and I struggled not to lean into the warmth, not to lean on him. I scrambled for my defenses and came up empty. “You came alive on that stage in a way I’ve never seen. Maybe not the days your mom harped on you, but the day you danced that routine from Giselle instead of whatever she’d picked out for you . . . that was love up there, and passion, and excitement. I saw it in your eyes.”
“Variation,” I muttered, dismissing most of his words. “It’s called a variation.”
“Fine. Variation. Whatever it was, you loved it the same way she did. If you don’t anymore—”
“It’s not about me.” I stepped out of his hand. “Juniper’s just like Lina in so many ways that it’s uncanny, and if you’d cut Lina away from ballet, she wouldn’t have survived it. If Juniper feels that way—and considering all she’s done to get around Caroline, she probably does—then . . .” I sighed. “Lina should be here, but she’s not, and I owe it to her to help Juniper, but there’s no good solution in any of this.”