Forever Right Now

“We’re a week out,” she said. “You can’t just change the whole show.”

“We’re not changing the whole show,” Greg said. “We need one more act. A time filler, really.”

Oh, is that what I am? I wanted to say. Truthfully, between the menace that was my partner, and the cold shoulders from the rest of the troupe, the words I quit, were teetering from my lips. But I was trying to be professional and not quit something just because it wasn’t what I’d hoped. And I wasn’t about to leave them in a lurch so close to opening night.

“Darlene?” Greg asked. “Can you?”

“Umm,” I glanced at Anne-Marie who was glaring poison-tipped daggers at me. “Are you sure?”

“We’ll put it between Entendre and Autumn Leaves.”

“Okay, I guess I could do that.”

“This is ridiculous,” Anne-Marie said. “Who cares if we’re three minutes short?”

Greg pretended not to have heard her. “Take your positions for the finale of Entendre, and then Darlene—”

“Rehearsal is over,” Anne-Marie said. “I have somewhere else to be.”

She flounced to the wall to grab her stuff and headed out. The other dancers shuffled their feet until Greg dismissed them too.

“Right, time’s up. We’ll have the music cues set up for tomorrow’s rehearsal then,” Greg said stiffly, trying to hold on to his authority. “Will you be ready?” he asked me, and I saw the spark of nerves dancing behind his eyes.

“Sure, no problem,” I said. “I’ll just stay here for a little bit and put in some extra time.”

And try to turn my improv into a routine.

Greg eased a sigh. “Good. That’s fine then.”

He left and Paula sidled up to me. “Anne-Marie really wanted to be the only soloist.”

“I noticed.”

“Thank you for stepping up.”

I smiled. “Doesn’t suck to have a solo on a résumé.”

“Yeah, well, we need it. The show needs it. A spark. Having just watched the whole run-through.” She bit off her words with a sigh. “Anyway, thanks.”

“No problem.”

After everyone had gone, I stood in the center of the room, and stared at the girl in the wall of mirrors.

“Persistence,” I murmured.

I didn’t quit, and I got a solo out of it.

If I told Sawyer the truth.

What would I get out of that? I wondered. Recriminations or acceptance?

I hit ‘play’ on my music app and Marian Hill asked her question. But I couldn’t answer. I wasn’t down or up. I was in limbo, unable to move. My body suddenly stiffened by all the words I needed to say, and I began to see why I’d quit dancing when the drugs started; when I’d begun to lie to my family and friends about what I was doing and where I was going. Dancing was my honest self. My body speaking the truth of the music, and I couldn’t be that while stuffed with lies.

I was probably just as stiff and mechanical in the run-through as Anne-Marie.

I took the Muni home, showered, made dinner. Always doing something, never letting myself stop and think. While doing the dinner dishes, a text came in on my phone from Max.

Well?