Blitz takes a step back when he sees me. “Livia? What are you doing here?”
I run up to him as the audience gasps and murmurs. My body moves, but my voice is definitely paralyzed.
He sets down the flowers. Cameras shift around us. I can hear the three women talking to each other in hushed tones. Even the announcer seems unsure of what to do.
I force air to come out, and then words. “I think you should dance with me right now,” I say.
Blitz looks around, toward the finalists, then out at the audience, and finally back to me.
And that’s when the music begins.
Thank you, Devon.
“Well, it looks like we have a surprise dance,” the announcer says. “Let me be the first to tell you that this is completely unplanned.” He turns to Blitz. “What is going on?”
“I think we’re just going to go with it,” Blitz says.
A woman in a glittery dress comes out and leads the three finalists off the stage. A girl in black comes to move the podium with its flowers out of the way.
The announcer steps off to one side, seeming unsure how to narrate what is happening.
“Did you pick this song?” Blitz asks.
“It’s a waltz,” I say. “It’s what we do best.”
He takes my hand. “I’m going to step on those toe shoes.”
This makes me laugh. “You are just a damn amateur.”
He pulls me in, grasping my hand. His smile is huge and genuine.
The position is familiar and calms me. We begin the steps, one-two-three, easy and simple. When he turns me out in the first spin, people clap. I don’t know what the audience thinks, how simple this must look compared to the big productions they saw earlier. But my eyes are on Blitz, and he’s looking at me. I have to make that be what matters.
Our steps get longer and more sweeping. We swing to the beat, and I feel my skirt flaring out. Then he turns me to face away from him, his hand on my thigh, and I remember this move and let him lift me onto his shoulder, just like that day in Studio 3.
I roll over his back and cartwheel out. The crowd cheers, and we come back around to each other. He lifts me up again, this time rolling me in front of him like he’s done so many times before, his hand on my thigh to sweep me into a downward position. I remember to keep my arms and hands pretty.
Another cheer.
We’re doing it. Unscripted. Us.
He lifts me back to standing and spins me in close, so our faces are right next to each other. We’re both breathing hard. We stay here a moment, hearing the shouts from the audience.
He curls me out from him and lets go of my hand. He takes a few steps back and then, he does it, a grand jeté, just like I taught him. I throw my head back and laugh. “Perfect!” I tell him.
He comes back to me and holds me by the waist. “Turn for me,” he says.
I spin the way we did before, then move away from him into a whirl, my arms starting low and spinning higher and higher as the world becomes a blur.
When I come out of it, Blitz is there, kneeling with one leg back. “Show me what you can do now,” he says.
I know what he means, and I relevé into en pointe and take tiny mincing steps toward him. He grasps me around the waist and turns me in a lazy circle. “You are incredible,” he says.
“You told Bennett you were in love with me,” I say.
“I did,” he says.
“You didn’t tell me about the extra episodes.”
His expression shifts. “No, I didn’t.”
I stop turning and sit on his bent knee. “You didn’t plan to do them, did you?”
He shakes his head no. “Is that why you’re here?”
I smile. “Somebody had to save Benjamin from Blitz Craven.”
The crowd erupts at that and I realize microphones are picking up our words. Somebody in the audience shouts, “Kiss her!” and that’s all the encouragement Blitz needs.
His lips land on mine, and I melt into him in our familiar way. My hands come to his hair, so lacquered and shiny that I almost laugh. But then his kiss gets deeper, more serious, and steals my breath.
The room erupts. The announcer shouts, “Who IS this girl?” over the noise.
Blitz turns me out. “This is Livia!” he says. “And she’s my choice for my partner.” He turns to me. “In dance.” He twirls me out in a circle and then back into him. “And in life.”
He kisses me again. And I don’t know anything else that happens because all I can see or feel is Blitz Craven.
We stay that way until the lights go down. A man shouts, “And we’re out.”
The room goes wild.
Audience members rush the stage. Whatever security is there can’t keep them back.
We’re surrounded. Cameras zip overhead, recording the scene even though we’re off the air. I have a feeling my face is going to be everywhere tomorrow. I wonder if Mindy will see it. If my parents will.
Blitz keeps his arm tight around me. “I’ve got you,” he says.
Eventually four burly security guards muscle through the crowd and lead us offstage and back into the hall. Juliet and Bennett are there, excited and happy.
“Was this your doing?” Blitz asks Bennett.
Bennett holds his hands in the air. “I just bought the jet fuel,” he says.
Juliet embraces me. “You looked beautiful up there. It was perfect.”
“Not too amateur?” I ask.
“It was just fine,” she assures me. “Let’s get out of here before the place is mobbed any worse than it is.”
The four of us hurry down the hall. But when we turn the corner, there they are.
The finalists.
All three.
Giselle lunges at Blitz. “What the hell was that? One more humiliation for the road?”
Christy is crying. “I thought you were going to pick me!” she says.
Mariah has her arms crossed. “I was told that you had chosen me. My dress was the one that matched the final dance set!”
Giselle and Christy turn to Mariah in disbelief.
“Really!” Mariah says. Then she spins and walks away.
Blitz seems like he wants to say something, but I think it’s best he doesn’t.
“I’m sure you will all have wonderful careers,” I say and pull on Blitz’s hand to move us away.
“I can’t believe you fell for a two-bit amateur ballerina!” Giselle says. “I always knew you were a loser!”
“Okay,” Bennett says. “That’s enough playground trash talk.” He waves at the security guards to move the girls away.
Soon we’re out of the building and into Bennett’s Mercedes.
Juliet, Blitz, and I squeeze into the back.
Juliet sighs. “This is about the craziest night I’ve had in a long time.”
Blitz holds on to my hand and kisses my fingers. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did,” I say.
“I didn’t deserve it.”
“Of course you did.” I press his hand to my cheek. “I saw a prince who needed to be rescued.”
The lights of the studio flash by as we make our escape. Behind us, we leave everything to be sorted by the staff. The crowd, the show, Blitz’s old life.
Now it will simply be us.