Page 40 of Pages of Amber

The tap of pointes against the flooring blended with the music score pouring from the speakers. Amber would never tire of the unique melody.

The level master, a burly man in his late forties who still reveled in his days as a teacher at the Pacific Northwest Ballet, tapped a wooden cane against the floor. “Start from the top, everyone. Keep up with the music.” The music began again and Amber moved with her danseur, Jesse. “Excellent form, Amber and Jesse. Perfect penché.”

The master’s voice brought matching smiles to their faces that they tried to contain as they finished the variation. She and Jesse had been partners from the start of their level. They were attuned to each other’s movements which meant while they were good dancers separately, they were a masterpiece together.

Evelyn and her partner rested beside Amber. She turned to Amber with bright eyes. “I didn’t step on any toes.” Her voice was a barely constrained whisper. “I’ve gotten so much better.”

Amber threw her a wink. “You’re doing amazing. I told you not to worry too much.”

“I can’t believe it.” Evelyn giggled. “We need to practice one-on-one more often.”

“I’m ready whenever you are. In fact, I’m thinking of getting an extra hour in after class. You want to join me?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

“Silence, girls!” The master’s voice cut Evelyn short of grabbing Amber in for a hug. He raised brows at them. “You can gossip when we’re done. Come on, one more time.”

Amber and Evelyn hid their grins and rejoined their partners. Amber caught Lexi’s eyes as they got into position and smiled at her friend.

“Lexi, lift that leg. Higher. Finish the turn.”

Lexi flushed, looking away as she spun in her partner’s arms. Amber refocused on her own steps. In tandem with the rest of the class, Jesse held onto her hand for a triple pirouette, his hands bracing her waist for the following lift. They finished smoothly, her hands in his as they balanced on their feet. A slap clap from their left startled Amber.

“Excellent! The flow, the turn, the rest. All excellent.” Their level master bobbed his head.

Smiles flashed onto faces all around at the praise. Amber joined in, her chest ballooning at his words. She had been dancing for years and while her confidence had slowly built up after years of practices and stage performances, it was always nice to hear the compliments. They soothed a part of her that was often left hurt and gaping. If only she could hear these words from the person she yearned from the most. At the close of practice, Evelyn waved her over to a spot in front of the wall length mirrors. Amber waved goodbye to the girls she had been speaking with. A few people still lingered in the class, also getting in additional practice for the audition. Evelyn had set up a small speaker for them when Amber joined her.

She looked up and met Lexi’s eyes reflected in the mirror behind her.

“Hey, Lexi.” She turned to her friend. “Evelyn and I are staying back to practice for a bit. Want to join us?”

She hesitated, her eyes flicking from Amber to Evelyn then back again. “For a little bit, sure.”

“Great.”

Evelyn groaned, catching Amber’s attention. She fiddled with her phone, a frown set on her face as she flicked a few buttons on the speaker.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s dead,” she bemoaned. “I forgot to charge it last time.”

“That’s okay. I have mine in my bag. Let me go get it.” Amber tightened her bun and turned to Lexi. “You need anything from the shelf?”

She nodded. “My bag.”

“I’ll just bring my bag and yours.”

“Wait–”

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

The sectioned shelf put into the back of the class for their bags was nearly empty. Amber picked her duffel bag and bent to pick Lexi’s. She dragged it out from where it was pushed to the back but her hands slipped on the strap. Lexi’s bag fell, landing with a quiet thump near Amber’s feet. She hurried to pick it up when she noticed the zip had opened up from the fall. Inside, she could see a pair of dark flats, leg warmers, an extra leotard and… Amber frowned, a small orange bottle with a white lid.

A pill bottle.

Was Lexi sick?

Her brows tightened in concern for her friend. Lexi didn’t look sick or pale. It could be a minor fever or a headache but why did she have a prescription bottle? She could see faintly scrawled handwriting over the white label wrapped around the bottle. Amber wondered, her hand hovering over the bag. She reached in.

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