“You might not be saying that when you meet some of the other dancers,” he says, and then chuckles. Noticing my alarmed expression he pats my arm. “Truly, they’re not that bad. It’s just very competitive. Some people will do whatever it takes to get ahead.”
Like leave the love of their life.
“Anyway, I have to go, but it was nice to meet you, Lucia Spontagio. Maybe I’ll see you around.” He waves, then wanders back down the hall, leaving me alone to face what apparently might be my disaster of a roommate.
Turning the lock, I hold my breath and open the door. I see only one bed and sigh with relief. He is right. Being in the same building as two hundred dancers will be close enough.
I glance back at my new friend, realizing I didn’t get his name. In an odd way, he reminds me of Pietro. They have the same dark mop of hair and the same penetrating eyes.
I throw my bags down on my bed and I wander around my room, examining everything. It’s much more modern than I was expecting. And smaller. My whole room, bathroom included, could fit into my closet back in Chicago.
I hope I’m not expected to practice in here.
I send my father a text and tuck that phone into my drawer. Next, I group text Ana, Bella, and Jacob.
Me: Arrived, so beautiful here, I miss you all xoxo
I set my phone down on the night table and peel off my clothes. After the long flight, I desperately need a shower. I’m about to try out my new shower when I realize I haven’t heard from Pietro. Grabbing my phone, I see a reply from Ana and Bella, both telling me to call them when I can. I smile and quickly type out a text for Pietro.
Me: I arrived safe and sound. Call me later? XO
I press SEND, and then remember the time difference. Hopefully it’s not some ridiculous hour like three
a.m. over there.
After my shower, I put on a fresh change of clothes. All I want to do is crawl into bed, but I know I’ll regret it if I do. The sooner I get used to the time difference, the better.
Running a brush through my thick hair, I tie it back in a bun, and then grab my purse. I have no idea where I’m going, but I’m determined to make the most of my time off. My first rehearsal is Monday morning at seven a.m. for a production of Swan Lake that is running for the entire summer.
Taking a deep breath, I check my messages again. My heart plummets. Nothing from Pietro. I tell myself it’s the time difference, that he hasn’t woken up yet, but in my heart I know it’s more than that. Something has changed. I’m not sure what, but I can feel things are different.
I can’t be angry. I left him for this. This was my choice.
This is my career. It’s what I’ve worked my whole life to achieve and I’m living a life most dancers are scared to even dream of. That needs to be my focus. Love and romance is too distracting.
With one last glance in the mirror I smile, thinking of how far I’ve come. I’m going into this with more confidence and self-belief than I’ve ever had in my life. I know a big part of that is Pietro’s faith in me.
I can do this. I will do this.
I’m just outside my room when I hear my phone ring. My heart leaps, hoping it’s him. Picking it up, I see that it’s Bell. A moment of disappointment is quickly replaced with excitement when I remember how much I already miss her voice.
“Luce, it’s me,” she says, her voice stricken.
“What is it?” I press, frowning. Something’s happened. I can hear it in her voice.
“It’s Pietro. He’s in the hospital. He’s pretty messed up.”
“What?” I gasp, reaching for the chair behind me. I sink into the seat, my heart pounding. “What happened? Is he okay?”
“I went to visit Ryan at work and I saw your dad there. I got worried and asked him what was wrong. He broke down, Luce. I’ve never seen your father cry before.” She pauses for a moment. “I’m so sorry, but I thought you’d want to know. I know how much you care for him.”
“He’s going to be okay, right?” I ask, wiping tears from my eyes. I can’t imagine losing Pietro. “He has to be.”
She hesitates. “I don’t know, Luce.”
Hanging up, I’m a mess. I try to call my father, but I get no answer. Frustrated, I call a cab. There’s no way I can be over here and not know what’s going on. I need to see him. I need to make sure he’s okay.
While I wait for the cab I jump on my phone and book the next available flight back to Chicago. For the privilege of being able to leave in two hours on a direct flight, I’m paying triple the cost of a ticket, but I don’t care. Thank God I have enough cash to cover my ticket.