“Fine. I’ll do it. And you’ll be thanking me, because your hands will be all over this body you own.” She eyed me.
“Either way I win.” I winked at her. I turned toward the stove to layer in the first omelet. “Here’s your first question. How many quarters are in a game?”
“Really? That’s insulting. Four.”
“Ding, ding, for the ballerina.” I watched to make sure the edges on the omelet didn’t brown too much. “Second question. How many players are on the field during a play?”
She scrunched her nose. “Twenty-four?”
“Err. No. Twenty-two. But that’s okay. It
’s one to one.”
She folded her arms. “Next.”
I flipped the omelet over. “Okay, for your next question can you name four different offensive positions?”
“Easily. Quarterback, wide receiver, tight end,” she paused to smile. “And.” She blinked a few times. “And…”
“Err. That is incorrect. You could have said running back, kicker. I’d take lineman or center. But that’s okay. You were close.”
She scowled at me. And I felt one question away from watching her dance for me.
“For the final question. For my victory question.” I winked at her. “What is the play called a safety?”
“That is not a fair question. Who knows what that is?”
“Err, also incorrect. A safety is when the team who has the ball is tackled in their own end zone, resulting in two points for the other team.”
“Two points? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Look it up,” I instructed as I delivered her breakfast in front of her.
She started typing on her phone and whispered the definition for a safety score out loud. “I feel tricked. That was a trick question.”
“It was not. Now eat up and then put on the shoes. I want to see you dance.”
“Today?”
“I’m leaving today. So yes.”
I cut into my omelet and took a bite. Victory always tasted sweet.
24
Natalia
I stared at the satin laces dangling from the shelf, taunting me, begging me to wear them. Sam had schemed me into this and I wasn’t happy.
He was in the studio waiting for me to show him something a ballerina would do. My Goddess uniform was hanging where it always did. Didn’t he know I hadn’t been a ballerina for a long time?
I dug through my closet until I found one of my wrap shirts and a light pink wrap skirt. I quickly put them on and then began to pull the pointe shoes from the shelf. I was shaking and my fingers tingled. I didn’t know if I could go through with this.
I sat on the edge of the bed. What if it didn’t feel right? What if I injured my hamstring again? What if this was a setback? This could end all of the plans I had made to audition. With a new injury, I would ruin the chance I did have.
“Natalia, where are you?” Sam called from the room next to mine.
“Hold on,” I replied.