By the time I get home, I’m determined to escape. I’ll take any risk, do anything.
But Mom and Dad don’t go to bed at their normal time. They’ve had a good evening together, and they dawdle on everything, insisting Andy and I watch a classic movie with them until Andy falls asleep.
It’s almost midnight before I even get a chance to text Blitz, and that’s only because I hole up in the bathroom.
Where are you now? I ask him.
Hannah has us all in her hotel suite, reviewing social media activity and having a strategy team react.
Are other people Tweeting for you now?
Hell yeah. Hannah says she’d rather have Donald Trump handle my Twitter account than me.
I don’t want to pull him away. It’s obviously an important night. I hear footsteps in the hall and quickly flush the toilet. While I run water to pretend to wash my hands, I text him one more time before I have to stop until my parents are asleep.
I’m so happy it has gone well. Can’t wait to see it with you in person.
He doesn’t respond right away. I picture him in a room with a dozen people, trying to find moments to look at his phone. It’s okay. I know this is bigger than me. It will always be bigger than any girl, especially a shy homeschooled girl who hasn’t gone anywhere near a television studio.
I tuck the phone in my bra and hurry to my room, afraid that someone might notice the bulge. I can’t imagine anything more devastating than losing this phone right now.
I finally go to sleep in the wee hours. I’m going up to the academy tomorrow whether Mom likes it or not. I won’t go another day without Blitz. I’m not sure I have many left.
When I make it to the academy the next afternoon, everyone is talking about Blitz.
Moms have their phones out, playing the video. Danika runs around, pushing dancers into their classes.
I know Blitz isn’t here yet, because I asked him. He is coming early before the hip-hop group, though, and we’ll dance together before class.
I’m wearing pink today, a ribbon woven into my elaborate braids. If I owned makeup, I’d sure as heck be wearing it. But this is how Blitz knows me. I can’t change anything. I’m not going to compete with those sexy dancers on his show by trying to beat them at their own game. I have to stay the same, no matter how much panic I feel that he’s slipping away.
“You doing okay, Livia?” Suze asks me as I approach the desk.
“Sure,” I say. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She steals a glance over at Danika before she says, “You know about Blitz, right?”
My stomach falls. He didn’t tell me anything had changed. “He said he’d be here for hip-hop.”
At this point, Danika comes forward and takes my arm. “Let’s go for a little walk, Livia.”
“He’s on his way,” I tell Suze. “Can you let him know where I am?” I know it’s desperate, but I want to establish that he comes for me. That we’re more than just a couple people who flirt in dance class. That I really do know more than she does about Blitz.
Danika leads me to her office. “Sit down, Livia,” she says, dropping into her oversized chair behind her desk. Her blue hair is electric against the dark brown leather. Her voice is kind, but it puts me on guard. I feel like she’s going to warn me off Blitz now. She has no idea how far things have already gone. No one does.
I sit in a cushioned chair opposite her, warm with my secret. I’m old hat at forbidden romance. There is nothing she can do to change how I feel or what I want.
“Livia, Blitz is not coming up here today.”
I sit up in the chair. “Yes, he is. I just spoke to him.”
“Within the past fifteen minutes?” Her voice is still kind, like she’s having to give me a talking-to but doesn’t want to come off as an authoritarian.
Still, I rebel. “Before I walked over here.”
“I just asked him not to come. He’s going back to LA tonight, and I felt a protracted good-bye could do more harm than good.”
My whole body freezes. Tonight? Already? Why hadn’t he told me?
“We just shot the video two days ago!” I exclaim.
“And he’s all over the media already. He’s getting bookings on morning shows, late-night shows, press in every direction. I’m calling a meeting with all the girls’ parents this evening to discuss how to maintain their privacy during this.”
I sit back. “You think they’ll be in danger?” I picture photographers stalking Gwen and Gabriella and my panic rises.
“Mostly an annoyance,” she says, waving her hand to dismiss the idea. “But I want to make sure they are using common sense and that even if some of them want to talk about their experience with Blitz to the media, they don’t compromise the privacy of any of the other girls.”
“Gwen won’t,” I say, then realize I’m giving myself away. “Probably only Daisy’s mother would be interested.”
“I agree,” Danika says. She looks at me pointedly. “So what is your situation with Blitz?”
I don’t know what to tell her. It isn’t really any of her business, is it? “Why is that important?” I ask.
She runs her fingers across the back shaved part of her hair. “I’m responsible for you when you’re here. Your parents were very insistent that we watch over you or else your ability to attend dance here would end.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” I say. “He’s leaving tonight and I won’t see him again.”
I’m proud to have said that with strength and confidence, rather than falling apart like I want to do on the inside. I’m desperate to check my phone, realizing I might have texts there that explain everything Danika is saying. The phone is totally silenced, so I wouldn’t have heard them on the way.
He might even want to try and get together before he goes.
“You two seemed very close during the filming,” Danika says. “Are you okay?”
Her concern chips away at my bravado. “I just need to check my messages so I can see what’s going on.”
“You can do that,” Danika says. “I just worry about you. I know you can’t speak to your parents about this … relationship you’ve gotten mixed up in. I feel very responsible.”
“Nothing has happened,” I say, hoping she can’t hear the tears in my voice. “It was just some harmless flirting.”
“It doesn’t look harmless based on your expression right now.”
I want to be alone to look at the messages. “I’m a big girl,” I say. “No matter what you or the other instructors or my parents think.”
“I know that,” Danika says. “I’ve encountered parents like yours before. It’s just gone on a lot longer than it should. You’re well over eighteen, right?”
“Nineteen,” I say. “I graduated but I’m homeschooled. I’m taking my SAT soon.”
“Will you go away to college?”
I look away, staring at framed portraits of Danika’s daughter Juliet dancing.
“I take that as a no,” Danika says. She stands up and comes around the desk to perch on the corner. “Livia, would you like some help? We can get someone to advise you on college applications, how to get financial aid and on-campus housing. You seem like a smart girl. I bet you can go anywhere you want to go.”
“I like it here,” I say.
What I can’t say is that if I go away, I don’t get to see Gabriella. And this is Blitz’s hometown. Even if he returns to LA, he has to visit his family. Thanksgiving is next week, and then Christmas. That’s two chances to see him. I’ll do anything.
“You can go to UTSA right here in town and still stay on campus. If you want to stick with your Catholic heritage, there is St. Mary’s.”
I know about these places. They seem like pipe dreams. “Dad thinks I should do online college.”
Danika leans in, her blue hair bright on the tips from the lights overhead. “I know Blitz seems like an easy out. Like he can rescue you. But he’s leaving tonight for LA. He’s going on a talk show tour. And if the groundwork he’s laid here at the academy and around the city works out, he’ll be back on his show. There will be no place for a young, impressionable dancer who has very little experience in the world.”
Her words are gentle, but they still cut through me. “We’re different,” I say. “He’s a different person with me.”
“I believe you,” she says. “He’s been good here. The best he has to offer. But when he’s back in that world, he’ll be back in that role.”
I can’t take any more. “I’m going to go now,” I tell her. “I’ll be here for Betsy’s class tomorrow.”
She stands up, but as I get up to go, she stops me. “There is something else.”
What now?
“I spoke to Betsy. You’ve completed your two years in ballet and you’ve done a heck of a lot of extra dancing the past few weeks.” She turns to the back corner of her office. “She expects you are about to earn these.”
She passes me a small pink bag from one of the dance supply stores that the instructors use. I’ve seen the logo a dozen times.
I accept the bag, my hand shaking. Too many reversals again. My life has been so complicated since Blitz arrived. I know what I’ll see inside, but I still take in a breath when I see them.
Toe shoes, perfect and gleaming in pink satin.
“We based these on your ballet slippers, but we can exchange them for a better size,” she says. “Bring them when you do your assessment and Betsy will check to make sure they are a good fit for you, and we’ll go from there. This was mainly a gesture from me to let you know that I have absolute confidence in you.”
I press the shoes to my chest. “Thank you,” I say. My eyes smart. “When will she do my assessment?”
“The week after Thanksgiving. Do lots of stretching and strengthening at home to make sure you don’t lose any ground over the holiday.”
“I will.” I place the shoes back in the bag.
As I head out of the academy, my feelings are a jumble. I pull out the phone and start walking down the street. There are a pile of texts from Blitz.
Hey, Danika has asked me not to come today.
I want to see you. Can we meet at the park?
Let me know if you can get away.
I’m flying to LA tonight. I really want to see you.
Please text me as soon as you get these.
I don’t know what to say exactly. I’m about to write him to come to the park when I hear Andy’s excited “Livia!”
I look up and see him running ahead of Mom. I guess they are going to the park for recess today.
I shove the phone in my string bag. I don’t think she’s seen. My heart hammers ninety to nothing.
Andy crashes into me with a hug. “Race you to the swings!”
I let him go without running. I need to face Mom first.
Her face is drawn with concern. “What are you doing at the park? You’re supposed to be at dance.”
“There wasn’t any studio space available today,” I say. “Everyone is practicing for the recital.” I hold up the bag. “But guess what! I get to be assessed for my toe shoes right after Thanksgiving! Danika gave me a pair!”
“Really?” My mom sits on the bench and holds out her arms for the bag.
I pass it to her and sit down.
She pulls out the perfect pink shoes. “They are beautiful, Livia.” She hugs me with one arm. “I am so proud you’ve stuck with this. Will you get to dance in them at the recital?”
“I don’t think so. It will be too new. But the spring one for sure.”
“We were going to get you a pair for Christmas, but now we can spend the money on something else,” she says. “You’ll have to let us know what you need. A new leotard, maybe?”
My freedom, I think, but I don’t say it. “Might need to save it. Sounds like college tuition is coming,” I say. “I know Dad talked about online classes, but there is St. Mary’s. It’s Catholic.”
She carefully places the shoes back in the bag. “Livia, you know your father. He won’t allow it.”
“I’m a legal adult,” I say. “If I get accepted and get financial aid, I can go without his permission.”
She bites her lip. “Do not speak that way, Livia. We have taken care of you all these years, despite your terrible wicked actions. You tore this family apart. We had to move.”
“It wasn’t my secret,” I say.
“But you exposed it.” Her voice is hard.
I stand up. I have to get away. “I’m going home,” I tell her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a shiny red car coming up the street. Oh no no no. It can’t be Blitz.
I’m so torn. If I wave him down, I can just get in his car, and be gone. Never come back. Would he do that? Would he take me, no matter what the consequences? If I called the police myself, told them I had left home and was not in danger, would that prevent any trouble when my father found out?
I take the bag from my stony-faced mother and hurry along the sidewalk.
I’m halfway down the block, then the red car turns the wrong direction, away from the park, and I see it’s some other sports car, not a Ferrari.
I slow down, realizing how rash I was being. Not thinking. Not planning. Not being smart.
My time with Blitz is done. I have to face it. When Mom can’t see me, I pull out the phone and text one quick line. Then I turn it off for good.
I’ve had a wonderful dance with you, Blitz. Enjoy your limelight again. I hope you find the perfect partner on your show.