Dance of Shadows (24 page)

Inside her room, a giddy smile spread across Vanessa’s face. It was real. Zep was real. They were real. She hadn’t been sure for so long. Ever since they started rehearsing the dance—that strange, arrhythmic dance that she couldn’t get right—that was when Zep had started pulling away from her. Now she wanted to burst with the news, to yell it out the window and tell all her friends and the girls in the lunchroom that it was true. Zep was her boyfriend. But it was too late to do that, and TJ was asleep, her legs tangled in the sheets. A mess of her brown curls spilled out over the pillowcase beside her history book. Her reading light was still on above her desk. Vanessa flipped it off.

On her own bed was a note written on a scrap of notebook paper:

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WE MISS YOU.
xoxo TJ (and Steffie and Blaine)
P.S. Wake me up when you get back so we can chat
.

Vanessa smiled when she read it and was about to tiptoe over to TJ’s bed when she saw her cell phone vibrating on her desk, where she’d left it before rehearsal. Picking it up, she saw she had one voice mail.

“Hi, honey, it’s Mom.” Her mother’s voice, lyric but shrill, made Vanessa cringe, and she held the phone a little farther from her ear.

“And Dad,” her father chimed in.

“I hope you’re off with friends, enjoying yourself. Just wanted to let you know that we bought tickets for the opening night of
The Firebird
,” her mother said.

“And they weren’t cheap!” her father added, joking.

Vanessa could practically see her mother’s eyes roll as she shooed her father away. “Anyway, we just wanted to make sure everything was going well. We can’t wait to see you dance
The Firebird
. We’re just so proud of you, Vanessa.” She hesitated on her name as if she were about to say something else.
Margaret
.

Her father shouted something in the background. It sounded like “I love you,” but it was drowned out by her mother’s voice, telling her to take care of herself and eat right. Vanessa let out a breath, half relieved she had missed the call. Just
as she deleted the message, there was a soft knock on the door.

Zep?
Vanessa mouthed, staring at the shadow of two feet beneath the door. Quickly, she scooped her dirty clothes beneath her comforter, ruffled her hair, and ran to the door, but when she opened it, she pulled back with a start.

“Vanessa?”

The smile faded from her face as she took in Justin’s sandy hair, his pressed shirt collar, and his muddy sneakers. He ran a hand down his hair, as if to comb it.

“Justin? What are you doing here?”

He swallowed, looking nervous. “I just wanted to see if you’re all right.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Vanessa said, scrutinizing him. In the dim light of the hallway, she realized what was different about him. He looked cleaner, crisper, as if he had been shampooed, starched, and ironed.

“I don’t know. You just seem stressed out recently. In rehearsal. Especially the afternoon sessions. If it’s Josef, you shouldn’t worry about him. He yells at everyone.”

“How would you know that?” Vanessa said quickly.

Justin lowered his eyes, and suddenly Vanessa felt guilty. “People talk,” he said with a shrug. “And the girls—they’re just jealous,” he said quickly, though Vanessa knew he was lying. “No one believes them. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“You did?” Vanessa said, narrowing her eyes. Had Justin actually come to her room late at night to see if she was okay?
It seemed out of character. She glanced over his shoulder and down the hall. It was empty.

“What are you looking at?” he said.

“You left your henchmen behind.”

Justin gave her a quizzical look. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The Fratelli twins. They were with you tonight, weren’t they?”

A wave of panic passed over Justin’s face, but he quickly shook it off. “We’re friends,” he said carefully. “Nicholas and Nicola are with me a lot.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Vanessa said, lowering her voice. “I saw you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Tonight. You were all running down Broadway.” Vanessa paused. “Were you following me?”

Justin looked away, fidgeting. “Yes,” he finally admitted, meeting her eye.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does,” Vanessa said. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were there tonight? And why bring the twins, who have barely ever said two words to me?” She watched him run a hand through his hair again. “What do you want from me?”

“Zeppelin Gray follows you. And you don’t think that’s creepy.”

“Zep is just looking out for me—” Vanessa began to say, when Justin cut her off.

“So am I.”

But Vanessa held up a hand to silence him. “Wait, how did you know that Zep follows me? And why would I need protecting from him?”

“You don’t know what he’s really like,” Justin said.

Vanessa put a hand on her hip. “Oh, and you do?”

“I have some ideas. I’ve known him much longer than you have.”

“I thought you dropped out for three years.”

“I did,” Justin said. “But I saw enough freshman year to know what he was about, and I really don’t think you should be hanging out with him.”

Vanessa leaned on the door frame. “Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous of me and Zep?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Justin insisted.

“Right,” Vanessa said. “So you just decided to follow me all evening, then come to my room late at night and knock on my door to make nasty comments about Zep? I mean, do you really expect me to believe—”

“I know.”

“It all makes sense now,” Vanessa said, almost to herself, realizing that maybe Zep was right. “Why I always bump into you, why you’re constantly rude to me—”

“Can you just get over your ego for one minute and listen to me?” Justin said, a little too loudly.

Vanessa went quiet.

“I know you want to think that everyone at NYBA wants to date you, but it’s not true.”

Enraged, Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, but Justin held up a finger and continued.

“Remember in the library when I told you that all the previous lead ballerinas in
The Firebird
had disappeared? It doesn’t stop there. NYBA has a history of girls going insane before they vanish. Girls start to lose their minds, then they disappear. Girls like Elly, your sister.”

“Elly didn’t disappear. She dropped out. Same with my sister,” Vanessa said.

“That’s how it always starts.”

“How do you know?” Vanessa said. “Why couldn’t they have just dropped out?”

“Because that’s not what happens here.”

A shudder ran up Vanessa’s arms as she thought of the newspaper articles, of the girls who’d disappeared and were never found. Their faces were seared into her head now, no matter how much she wanted to forget them.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Justin said, studying her. “It’s about something … sinister.”

“Sinister?” Vanessa said in disbelief. It was a word she reserved for sorcerers and serial killers. “But the police said they were runaways,” she began, trying to convince him as much as herself.

“Yes, but what do
you
say?” Justin said. “Your sister disappeared. Did that make sense to you? If she turned up dead in the river, would you accept that?”

His words made her stomach tighten. “My sister isn’t dead,” she said. “And don’t you ever try to convince me that she is.” She took a step back into the safety of her room.

Realizing that he had crossed a line, Justin’s face softened. “Exactly my point.”

Vanessa was about to close the door in his face, but he held it open. “What now?” she asked.

“What about Elly?” Justin persisted. “She didn’t seem like the type to disappear either. Isn’t that a little strange?”

“Elly wrote us an e-mail telling us she was fine.”

“What did it say?”

“That she was at home and didn’t want us to contact her.” But Vanessa knew the e-mail hadn’t sounded like Elly. For a moment, she considered telling Justin about the strange note wrapped around the block of rosin, but she thought better of it. No, Elly was the only person who could give her answers. She had to talk to her.

“You think it out of character,” Justin said, reading her thoughts.

“What I think is none of your business,” she said.

She got ready to shut the door, when Justin spoke. “What if it was?”

Slowly, she looked up and met his gaze, challenging him. “If you want to know what I think, ask me, instead of prowling around at night, trying to squeeze your way into other people’s secrets.” She took a step back into her room. “And if you want so badly to compete with Zep, you should spend less time doing research and more time dancing.”

“I told you before that I wasn’t trying to be a better dancer,” Justin said calmly. “I have personal reasons for wanting to be here. And Zep—well, I already told you how I feel about him.
If you don’t want to listen to me, then fine. You can work it out for yourself.”

She glared at his smug face, wishing she could crumple it like a piece of paper. “What exactly does Zep have to do with this?” she asked.

“Nothing yet. But he has the lead role in the production. And you’re—”

“The Firebird,” Vanessa said impatiently. “I know what you’re thinking. That I’m going to disappear and a few weeks later my picture is going to show up in the newspaper as another missing girl.”

Justin went quiet. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

“Well, I’m fine,” Vanessa said. “And I can take care of myself. Good night.”

She closed the door, a sigh of relief passing through her when the knob clicked shut. Vanessa waited until she heard the sound of Justin’s footsteps disappearing down the hall and then crawled into bed.

Just before she pulled up the covers, TJ sat up. “What was that?” she whispered, her voice groggy from sleep.

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” Vanessa said, but TJ rubbed her eyes. Her frizzy hair stood on end.

“No, I’m awake,” she said, and turned on her bedside light. “I heard a boy’s voice.”

“Justin,” Vanessa said, sitting up, and after glancing at the door to make sure no one was listening, she told TJ about the exchange.

“Justin thinks something happened to Elly too?” TJ said, now fully awake. “What does he know? Maybe he has information that we don’t?”

“Information from whom?” Vanessa said, shaking her head. “I think it was all hot air. He wouldn’t say anything specific, only that he had suspicions.”

“I knew it,” TJ said, pushing a wisp of hair from her face. “I mean, I don’t know exactly what, but if Justin thinks something strange is going on, and so do you, then it’s possible, right?” She stood up and began pacing around the room. “Maybe I’ll write her another e-mail. Or Facebook message. No—a letter,” TJ muttered to herself. “I’ll send it to her parents’ house. That way if she doesn’t get it, at least they will.” And then, as if remembering that Vanessa was there, she turned. “Wait, where were you?”

“With Zep,” Vanessa said quietly, watching TJ’s face light up. And unable to resist the urge, she spilled everything. The voices, Zep, and the kiss. They talked for another hour about love and boys, about Zep and how he always seemed to show up at the strangest moments, about Justin sneaking around following them both, and Elly, her absence still as strong as the day she disappeared. Just like Vanessa’s sister.

Margaret?
Vanessa thought, settling under the covers.
What happened to you?

“What if he’s right?” Vanessa said over breakfast the following Saturday.

It had been over a week since Justin had shown up at her dorm room, yet his words still haunted her, despite the fact that she had been working on the final dance with Zep almost every evening.

They met after dinner and walked hand in hand through Lincoln Center Plaza to the basement practice room, laughing and dancing until their bodies were damp with sweat. And every evening he walked her back to her room and kissed her in the dim hallway, leaving her with a dizzying smile before slipping back into the shadows like an apparition. She still didn’t know what he did in his spare time, and he rarely picked up his cell phone or responded to her texts. No, he was clearly the one in control.

Maybe that was why Vanessa couldn’t get Justin’s warning out of her head. Like the final dance of the Firebird, Zep was elusive, undefined, even though he was her boyfriend.

“If a guy called you ‘his girl,’ does that mean that you’re his girlfriend?” Vanessa asked. The dining hall was bustling with the sound of dishes and silverware, students talking, eating, rushing away to class.

TJ’s eyes brightened. “Is this hypothetical guy Zep?” Her hair was frizzy and unkempt, in stark comparison to Blaine, who was impeccably dressed in a dark jeans and a tight polo, his hair slick with gel.

“Maybe,” Vanessa murmured, picking at her oatmeal.

“I don’t know,” Steffie said, playing with one of her earrings. “It’s kind of vague.”

“Typical New York guy,” TJ said, shaking her head. “They never want to commit.”

Vanessa looked at Blaine, but he only bit his lip. “If he meant you were his girlfriend, he could have just said that,” he said. “You know?”

Vanessa nodded, deflated. “What if all those girls didn’t just drop out because of stress?” she said. “I mean, it’s always girls that disappear. And most of the time it’s the lead ballerina. We’re supposed to be the best, the ones who can handle all the pressure. It really doesn’t make sense that so many of us can’t take it.”

“What exactly do you think is happening?” Steffie said. “That someone is killing or kidnapping all the lead ballerinas? Or forcing them to go drop out? Why would anyone do that?”

Vanessa pressed her spoon to her lips, thinking. “I don’t know.”

“I think Justin just likes you,” TJ said. “And he’s looking for an excuse to talk to you.”

“Which is probably why he hates Zep,” Blaine added with a grin.

Vanessa collapsed back in her chair, unsure of what she thought. She didn’t know why she was clinging to Justin’s words. Maybe it was because he seemed to know something about Margaret’s disappearance, and in order to believe him she had to at least consider his doubts about Zep. Or maybe she still didn’t understand why Zep had chosen her over Anna.