Dancing for the Lord: The Academy (21 page)

“Because I’m the one who always made sure we had everything we needed,” she replied immediately.  “And he’s probably going crazy trying to decide how many of the things I threw in that bag were necessary and how many of them just lived there all the time.” 

“Right.”  Nick raised an eyebrow.  “How many of them just lived there?”

“Have you seen my dance bag?” she replied.

“I haven’t gone through it.”  Any other time, all he would’ve had to do was look in it.  Normally, when she was in his room, the bag was tossed into a corner, just as his
ended up there when he was in hers.  Generally, one was on top of the other—the one on the bottom depending on whose room they were in.  On this particular day, however, Danni didn’t have hers with her.

It was odd how
strange
he considered that, Nick thought. 

“I carry more junk than is absolutely necessary—but all of it comes in handy every once in awhile.” She grinned.  “I bet he forgets the camera.”

“Camera?”

“Oh, yeah.  It’s a ritual, see:  we always take pictures backstage right before the performance.  Our parents jump up and get them later; but we want our own before we end up all mussed and everything.”

“Ah.”  Nick nodded, pretending to understand.  Nearly every dancer he knew had some sort of pre-performance ritual; the pictures were one that Danni and Michael had shared.  “So, are you going to get pictures of us tonight?”

“Of course!”  She grinned.  “I’ll send them to Michael and guilt him for not having backstage pictures to send back to me.”

“Well of course.”  He shook his head.  “What would
The Nutcracker
be without a good case of guilt?”

“He won’t feel that guilty,” Danni informed him.

That warning was more important than he’d initially thought, he realized suddenly, several seconds later.  He’d thought it was an absent comment—and maybe it had been—but it was more than that, too.  Danni would never do anything that might hurt Michael—not even sending him on a guilt trip over forgetting a silly ritual.  If she
had been worried, even for a moment, that it would really bother him, she wouldn’t have done it.

Just like she would never do anything that would really bother him.

Nick’s arm tightened around her shoulders, and he drew her a little bit closer to him. 
Lord, I really struck gold with this one,
he prayed silently. 
Just…help me keep her, okay?  Let me be good enough for her.  I know I wasn’t good enough for Kat…but I think Danni might like me, at least a little.

Somehow, Nicholas made it to the performance that night.  He and Danni both know that he hadn’t been able to do nearly enough damage control on his shoulder; but she also understood the pride that wouldn’t allow him to step down.

He didn’t have an understudy, either.  If he stepped down, whoever stepped into his place was going to have little idea of what they were doing, and absolutely no time to practice.  There was no one else who had gone over the steps with Danni—no one save Josh and Logan who had even danced with her once, and both of them had integral roles in the ballet. 

They would get him through this evening—one way or the other.

Danni waited in the wings throughout the entire first act of the ballet.  She knew full well that there wasn’t room to clutter up the space back there, and she did her best to keep herself out of the way; but as she made herself inconspicuous and stayed where she could keep Nick in sight the entire time.

He went through the steps of the dance almost unconsciously, performing with the ease of someone who had been over that routine over and over again, until they no longer had to think about the movements.  If nothing else, the morning’s practice had done that much for him, giving him the ability to tune out everything going on around him and simply dance.

He wasn’t dancing for the Lord tonight.  He knew it—could feel it in the leaden nature of every step, the faint slowing with every twirl.  When he gave it all over and danced for God, he felt as though he was light as air, with more energy than he knew what to do with.

Tonight, he was dancing just to get by.

His only saving grace was that Danni was there.  Between scenes, whenever he was off-stage, she found a moment to squeeze his shoulder gently, or even just to look into his eyes for a moment.  He used her for his spot with every turn, his eyes always coming back to her. 

At the worst of it—as he whisked Allie as Clara through yet another swift swoop, feeling his shoulder shake with the effort—he looked up and met her steady, understanding gaze.  Her lips were moving; and though he couldn’t make out the words, Nick knew that she was praying for him.

It surprised him just how much of a relief that was.  Danni was praying—that meant that the hand of God was resting on him.

And that hand was there.  He could feel God’s presence surrounding him, stronger arms than his holding Allie up when he was sure that he would fail.  A gentle hand kept his in the air as he waited for her, stilled the trembling so that it wouldn’t be obvious even in the front row of the audience.

Danni saw it—he knew she did.  She saw it, and prayed all the harder for him because of it—but she didn’t say a word.  No one else, looking at her, would have realized that she was the least bit worried about anything.

Allie had to have felt his shaking.  He was almost sure that she did—but she didn’t offer even as much as a reassuring squeeze of her fingers.  She didn’t care enough about him to reassure him. 

Nick barely noticed.  Danni cared.  Danni was praying. 

At last, the first act was over.  There was a flurry of movement backstage as the techs went to change the backgrounds, to make sure that the next set of props were in place for the next dance. 

Danni was at his side the second he stepped into the wings, spiriting him away.  Behind him, they both heard Allie say, “Nicholas—“

They ignored her, pretending that they didn’t hear above the rush of noise.  “Come on,” Danni told him.  “You can hide out in my dressing room for a little while.”

Nick took her up on the offer in spite of the fact that he knew full well that anyone who seriously wanted to find him would know exactly where to look.  If he wasn’t in his own dressing room, he would have to be in Danni’s.

“Get some ice on that shoulder.”  She bullied him into easing down on the floor, bracing his back and shoulder against the wall.

“I don’t exactly have an ice pack in here.” Nick knew full well that his face was dead white and didn’t care.  At least it was just Danni back here—and Danni would understand.  She wouldn’t dream of giving him a hard time about any of it.  She was just here, giving him a few minutes’ peace before he had to take to the stage again. 

“You—“ she began.

“If I go out there, I’m going to have to admit to Androv that I’m not holding up well.”  He pointed this out grimly, as though he expected Danni to have missed it. 

“You don’t have to go out there.” She unzipped her dance bag and pulled an ice pack out of the cooler she had sewn into it a long time before.  “Here.  Keep this on it, and don’t argue with me anymore.”

He laughed halfheartedly.  “You weren’t kidding when you said that bag holds everything, huh?”

Danni shrugged, but he could tell that she was pleased with herself.  “Just in case,” she said lightly.  “I wasn’t sure you would need it, but if you had and it hadn’t been there….”

He just nodded, doing his best not to think too hard about how much it would have killed him to
not
be able to get to the ice. 

There was nothing but silence between them for several minutes.  Nick was doing his best to get his shoulder to relax; but all his efforts seemed to be doing was adding to the pain.

“I don’t think I can do it, Danni.”  He leaned back against the wall, letting the bag of ice fall away.  It wasn’t doing him any good anyway.  Mostly, it was just making the pain that much worse—and that much harder to bear.  “I’m not going to make our pas de deux.“ 

“Sure you are,” she said, so fiercely that he actually opened his eyes to look at her. 

“I know it’s going to be hard for you.”  He grimaced, clearly believing that she was angry with him, that her sharp words were in response to his admission of guilt.  “Maybe Androv—“ 

“You’re not listening,” Danni said simply.  “We’re partners.  We’ll take care of each other out there.” 

“There’s no way.”  He wasn’t even moving his shoulder, she noticed sympathetically—wasn’t moving much at all unless he absolutely had to.  “I might make
a lift or two if the ice will just start working, but if I try to run the full routine out there—“ He grimaced and forced himself to put the ice back in place.  No matter how much it hurt now, it was going to help later…he hoped.

“Then we won’t do it.  Listen.”  Hurriedly, Danni reached for a pencil and sketched out a few lines of choreography, grateful that Carolyn had taught her how to write out her ideas a long time ago.  “We’ll just make a few changes.  Here…and here….”  Within a matter of moments, she had outlined the entire pas de deux, removing a lift here, changing it there so that it was his left arm bearing all of her weight.  “We can do this.”  They had to do this.  She knew that it probably would have been better for Nick if he just bowed out, but she wasn’t about to give Katarina the pleasure.  The other girl was
not
going to win—not like this.

Nicholas stared at her as though he had never seen her before.  “Are you sure this will work?” he demanded, his eyes roving over the page as he struggled to absorb it all. 

“Positive.” She shrugged lightly.  “It’s not perfect, but it’ll keep your shoulder from having to bear any more weight tonight.”  She frowned suddenly.  “Except…don’t you have to carry Clara back to the sleigh?  Maybe….”  There wasn’t much she could do about that one, she realized bitterly. Allie was still refusing to admit that Nicholas might actually have a problem with his shoulder; and as hard as she had been on him earlier that day, there was no way he was going to be able to convince her of the need to shift the routine now.

“I can manage that much.  She’s mostly resting on the left anyway.” Though as snotty as Allie had been earlier, it wouldn’t surprise him if she reversed the movement. 
No—she was the stickler for detail.  If she suddenly reversed the movement now, everyone would know that she was trying to set him off-balance.

And in his fairer moments, Nick had to admit that she probably wasn’t trying to hurt him. The truth was, if he went to Allie right now and seriously told her that he was hurting, she would be as understanding as anyone else out there.  She might be annoyed enough to suggest that he just bow out and let someone else have the role for the night, but she wouldn’t go out of her way to hurt him more, either.

He studied Danni’s new choreography again—thankfully, he, too, had been through a few lessons in basic choreography and knew how to write it down—and considered it.  It might just work. 

The certainty washed over him all at once, a gentle reassurance straight from the Lord.  He could do this.  It would be enough.  “Danni, you’re a life-saver!”  He bounded to his feet and hugged her tightly, the ice pack falling away.  “I was dreading going out there and telling Androv that I couldn’t dance, but with this….”  He stopped suddenly, despair breaking in again.  “It’s going to get us in a lot of trouble, isn’t it?  Fooling around with Androv’s choreography.  He’ll never agree, and there’s not even time to practice it….”

“Just make sure you remember your cues,” she informed him.  “And keep in mind that this is more a recital than anything else.  It’s our families out there, not some reviewer.” 

“Right.”  The reviewer would be tomorrow night—and Nicholas already planned to make sure that Allie couldn’t find him all morning.  He sighed.  “Can
you
do this?”  It was a serious question.  The moves she’d sketched out for herself were a little bit more
strenuous than the original, pulling the attention of the audience to her instead of keeping it torn between the two of them.  For him, it was nothing shy of a blessing.  For Danni…. 

“No problem.”  She pulled him back, hugging him again, then let him go.  “Now, get that shoulder iced so that you can do what you need to do out there.” 

He obeyed, resting his head against the wall again as he settled the ice pack back on his shoulder.  “You going to tell Androv?” she wanted to know. 

She raised an eyebrow.  “Are you kidding me?  Far better to ask forgiveness than permission, in this case.” 

Nicholas nodded.  “I agree,” he said firmly.  “What he doesn’t know about beforehand, he can’t use as a reason to pull me and leave you without a partner.”  He eyed her.  “You do realize that this is going way beyond the call of duty, right?  I mean, you could dance it with somebody else.  At this point, Androv would toss on a costume and get out there with you.”

“I’m not dancing with anyone but you tonight.”  She brushed a hand lightly over his hair, a gesture that was intended to be soothing.  “Besides, who else knows to cue me a third of the way through the dance when I lose track, huh?”

Nicholas laughed, and if the sound came out a little husky, they both pretended not to notice.  “I owe you, Danni,” he said seriously.  She didn’t really need his cue; he knew that.  No, she was doing this just for him, with a gentleness and compassion that he certainly didn’t deserve.