Dance of Shadows (25 page)

“Sometimes I wonder if Zep really likes me, or if I’m just some passing thing for him.”

TJ groaned in disbelief.

“He spends all his time with you, rehearsing for
The Firebird
. We never see you anymore,” Blaine said. “Honestly, I don’t know how you’re not on fire with happiness right now. If Zep just bumped into me in the hall, I would probably pee myself with excitement.”

Steffie rolled her eyes while the rest of them laughed. “Which is exactly why you’re going to be a virgin for the rest of your life.”

“Ha-ha,” he said sarcastically. “Seriously though”—Blaine lowered his voice—“if I had someone like Zep chasing me, I wouldn’t be taking him for granted. Do you know how hard it is to find someone who can reciprocate your feelings?”

The sincerity of his words startled her into silence.

“Unless, of course, you have the good looks that I have,” he said with a smirk.

Vanessa shook her head and laughed, then she caught a glimpse of Steffie’s watch. “It’s already nine?” she said. She slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her tray. “I have to go. I’m late for rehearsal.”

“But it’s Saturday,” Steffie said. “And we only just sat down.”

Vanessa gave her an apologetic look. Her friends didn’t understand how hard rehearsal was, or why each moment of extra practice with Zep was precious. “Save me a seat at dinner,” Vanessa said. “Okay?”

Steffie nodded, looking skeptical. “Don’t work too hard,” she said. “It’s supposed to be fun, remember?”

But her words were lost as Vanessa wove through the tables toward the door. Just before she stepped outside, she felt Justin’s eyes on her. His gaze was steady, penetrating, as if to say
be careful
.

“You have to focus,” Zep said later that night.

His voice reverberated through the basement rehearsal room. Night had fallen hours ago, and the bright overhead lights made everything seem all the more confused. Not that Vanessa had had a chance to go outside. She’d been alone in the studio with him since the afternoon rehearsal had ended.

“I can’t,” Vanessa murmured.

“You’re trying to remember your steps
and
my steps, and count your beat
and
my beat,” Zep said, leaning on the wall.
“But it’s impossible to dance like that.” Behind him, the white figures stenciled into the ash stayed frozen in place. Suddenly she realized how absurd it was that she was standing here, in front of a boy everyone else in school would die to be alone with, and instead of listening to him, she was waiting for the paint on the wall to peel off and start dancing. She really was losing her mind.

“Vanessa?” Zep said. “Are you okay?”

“I—I’m sorry,” she said. “My mind is just …” Her eyes settled on Zep, on the stubble that dotted his cheeks, on the metallic, rolling color of his eyes, which seemed to brighten as he rested his gaze on Vanessa. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”

“Good,” Zep said. “Shall we try again?”

Vanessa nodded, and he took her hand and pulled her in front of him once more. Standing behind her, his chest pressed against her back, he put a hand on her waist. “Now do what I do,” he said, and he began to move with her in the irregular, unsteady beat of Josef’s dance.

“Let go of your thoughts. Let go of what you can see. Don’t pay attention to me. Just feel the rhythm, and let your body move the way it wants to.”

Vanessa let out a laugh. How could she not pay attention to him, when his muscular body was pressing against hers, with nothing between them but their leotards?

Zep frowned. “What’s funny?”

Vanessa shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “You just make it sound so easy.”

“It will be easy,” he said gently, lifting her chin. “When you decide it is.”

What did he mean? No matter how many times Vanessa practiced the dance, she couldn’t finish it perfectly. Either she made it halfway through before stepping out of rhythm, or, on the rare occasion when she made it almost to the end, the room began to shift and spin.

“I know how you feel,” Zep said. “When I first practiced this dance with Josef, I thought it was frustrating, irregular, and useless. But after I mastered it, I understood.”

“Understood what?” Vanessa whispered.

“That it isn’t a dance. It’s a love affair, with rhythms and steps that are so complex, so painful, that it feels like you will never overcome them. But like love, once you master it, it will stay with you forever,” he said. “You will be the master of every dance.”

“The master?” Vanessa’s voice cracked.

“Don’t think about it.
Feel
it.” He ran his hand down her arm until it was extended outward into her starting pose. And then on his count, they began.

“Love.” He pressed his leg against hers until her toe slid across the floor. “You need me. You want me. You’ve always wanted me. But you can’t have me.”

Vanessa listened to his words, feeling them pulse through her veins. She arched her back in a painful plea.

“Fate is against us,” he whispered. “Still, you offer yourself to me. You seduce me.”

Her arms fluttered before her, and slowly, she arched her body into an arabesque, giving herself to him.

“I try to resist you, but I cannot.”

Vanessa felt herself grow weak as she leaned into him, letting his hands roam up her body as if they weren’t dancing at all, but merging into one. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of his sweat.

“But our love is violent. It cannot last. I cast you off.” Suddenly the rhythm changed, and Zep thrust her away. Spotting him, she spun across the floor.

“You don’t understand. You beg me. You ask me why I can’t love you.”

Vanessa threw herself down before him. For the first time, the dance seemed to make sense, and slowly, she lost herself to it. The steps were strange; there was no getting away from that. But with Zep guiding her, Vanessa began to feel it.

Her body jerked left, then right, in a tortured romance, the moves becoming natural, ingrained in her muscles until they were written to memory, and she didn’t notice when Zep fell away from her. Nor did she notice when she began to pick up the pace, dancing by herself.

As she moved across the wooden floor, she began to feel warm, then hot, sweat beading on her back until her leotard was matted to her skin. She realized it wasn’t just heat, it was desire. But desire for what? She spotted once, twice, the room spinning. The lights above were mesmerizing; the waxed floor unbelievably glossy, the mirror so sharp it seemed almost transparent. She kept dancing, her breaths long and deep, until her eyes rested on Zep.

He had stopped dancing entirely and was standing across
the room, gazing at her in awe. “You are beautiful,” he murmured. “So incredibly beautiful.”

All she could see of him was his dark, wavy hair, his swirling eyes, the contours of his neck as he watched her. She felt something open within her.

Something inside her started to boil, blossoming beneath her skin. Losing herself, she glided across the boards toward him. His hair was soft and thick beneath her fingers as she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled it toward her, pressing her mouth to his. Vanessa pulled him closer, her fingers tight around his body, until gently, he broke out of her grip.

She took a step back. “Why can’t you love me?” Vanessa said, repeating his words, her voice low and not her own.

Zep backed away, his eyes searching hers for understanding. He almost looked sad, as if he wanted to tell her something but couldn’t. “Love,” he said, just as he had when they were dancing. “You need me. You want me. You’ve always wanted me. But you can’t have me.” His shoulders collapsed, as if it pained him to say the words. “And I want you. But fate is against us.”

Vanessa could do nothing but stand there, her breath growing thin, her vision swirled and possessed, as all the color seemed to fade from the room. Until suddenly, the spell broke, and the scuffs in the polished wood floor materialized as everything returned to normal. Vanessa let out a gasp as something left her and her muscles finally relaxed. She stumbled back like a marionette with its strings cut.

“I—I don’t know what got into me.”

Zep’s face softened. “Great dancing can open you up and invite in all sorts of things … hidden, forbidden, dangerous consequences.”

“What do you mean?” Vanessa said.

He stepped closer. “You know that feeling you get when you dance, like the world we exist in is thinning and disappearing?”

It took a moment for Vanessa to process what Zep had said. “Do you feel it too?”

“No,” Zep said. “I’m not that talented. But
you
are.”

His gaze was so intent that she had to look away. “I don’t think that’s talent,” she said. “I always fall when that happens.”

“Remember what I said? That’s because you haven’t mastered it yet.”

“Mastered what?”

“The dance. What you can do. It’s magic.” His voice was so steady that Vanessa couldn’t tell if he was joking.

She let out a nervous laugh. “Magic. Right.”

Zep didn’t say anything. He strode toward her, and with a force Vanessa had never felt before, Zep took her by the waist and pulled her into a wet, violent kiss.

And even though it was exactly what she thought she’d wanted—for Zep to kiss her like this, to desire her, to choose her—he didn’t feel like the Zep who had stared at her over the velvety seats of the Lincoln Center ballet, the Zep who’d run through the night with her until they were breathless. This Zep felt different, like a stranger.

“I try to resist you but I can’t.” He touched his forehead to hers.

Vanessa closed her eyes, feeling his damp skin against hers and wishing she could believe he was hers.
But our love is violent
, his voice repeated in her mind.
It cannot last. I cast you off
.
You don’t understand. You beg me. You ask me why I can’t love you
.

“Why can’t you love me?” she asked, her lips grazing his.

She felt him stop breathing for a moment, and in his hesitation, she knew. She didn’t need to wait for him to speak, for his body had already betrayed him. She didn’t know why, but she knew she couldn’t have him.

She backed away, searching his eyes for an answer.

“Vanessa, wait,” he said, reaching for her, but she pulled back.

“Why?” she said. “I don’t understand.”

“Can’t we take it slowly?” he said gently. “This is new to me too.” He stepped toward her, but Vanessa turned away, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes. Without saying anything more, she grabbed her things and ran out the door, his voice lost as she burst into the hall and out into the comfort and anonymity of the night.

The light shone around Vanessa, casting her shadow across the room. Sweat trickled down her neck. Her leg trembled as she held it behind her for four, five, six counts. On the periphery, she could see Zep frozen in position, his eyes willing her to hold it longer, straighter. She forced herself to look away.

She had been practicing the same sequence for a week, and every time she had fumbled. She told her friends about the problem when they were hanging out in her dorm room, but they didn’t understand. “All dance is rooted in some kind of emotion,” Steffie had said. “If you can’t feel it, it’s probably because you haven’t experienced that emotion yet. You know?”

“Are you saying I lack life experience?”

Steffie shrugged. “I’m just saying that it’s hard to dance about love or grief if you haven’t gone through those things.”

“It’s more than that, though,” Vanessa had said. “It’s like an emotion that isn’t from this world.”

Steffie had raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Vanessa turned to Blaine and TJ, who were sitting on the bed doing algebra.

“Don’t ask me,” TJ said, looking up from her notebook. “I don’t even know why I’m here. I can barely keep up with barre work.”

Blaine told her she should take a break and get a long massage. Maybe indulge in some retail therapy.

“Why don’t you talk to Zep?” TJ said finally. “He’s your dance partner, right?”

Vanessa nodded. “I do. If it weren’t for his help, I probably wouldn’t have made it this far.” Though they never spoke of that tense night in the studio, the words remained between them, like a magnetic force pulling them together, pushing them apart.

Every day in rehearsal, their bodies spoke the words neither of them could bring themselves to say aloud. Strangely, it was helping; Vanessa started to feel each step deep within her body until they were as natural as falling in love, teetering with yearning, jumping back in anger. The dance felt so intimate that she went warm with shame every time she caught the eye of one of the princesses, reminding her that the entire cast was watching her conversation with Zep. Did they all know what had happened? Could they read it from his body like she could?

Every day Vanessa expected to hear Anna and the other princesses gossiping about the tension between Zep and Vanessa, but to her surprise, they didn’t seem to notice. In fact, no one did, with the exception of two people.

The first, to Vanessa’s dismay, was Justin. In the morning full-cast rehearsals, when Justin wasn’t working on the steps of the prince, he sat in the corner with his arms crossed, watching Vanessa and Zep.