Page 47 of Old Acquaintances

I went back to the audition and noted that Tucker returned to the window. During barre exercises, every time I returned to my right side, I watched him watching me through the glass. I tried to focus - I could dégagé and rond de jambe blindfolded - but my eyes kept flicking to the light smirk meeting me across a sea of flying feet. I tried to keep my face passive. I tried not to be affected by his presence. When we switched to the left side, I kept my eyes on my reflection, my attention drifting every so often to his chin resting on stacked fists, those smooth, golden cheeks pinching into a smile.

Before we started developpes, Macy whispered, “God, he’s so distracting.”

I bit back a smile. I actually found myself dancing a little better with Tucker watching. Typically, I would just begoing through the motions at barre, focusing on my technique, keeping my turnout engaged, but on that day I paid a little more attention to my posture and gracefulness, the connection between my arms and my head. I wanted to impress him.

The assistant director brushed past me during an attitude balance, adjusting my knee, and said, “Your epaulement is really lovely today, Ella.”

When we took a break for center, I collected my pointe shoes from the hallway. I hadn’t seen Tucker during the barre stretch or grand battements, so I walked into the lobby to find him, ribbons dragging on the ground. Right then, he walked through the elevator.

“Oh hey,” he said with a nod. “Perfect timing.” He held out a cold bottle of water.

I took it. “Where did this come from?”

“I went to the Rite Aid next door. I noticed you didn’t have any water.” He looked at my busy hands and said, “Open your mouth.” When I frowned, he shook an open bag of peanut butter M&M’s.

I leaned my head back and Tucker shook some onto my tongue. I laughed, straightening up so that I didn’t choke and commented, “You don’t like the peanut butter ones.”

“Yeah, but you do.” He squinted up his face. “The peanut butter tastes weird.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, itdoes. The reason it works in a Reese’s is because the peanut butter is smoother, and the chocolate is just better.” He tossed a few into his mouth and said, “These are just not good.”

“Then don’t eat them.” I made a play for the bag, but he snatched it back.

“I’m going to starve if I don’t eat something.”

“I’m halfway done.”

Tucker nodded his chin at a group of girls giggling andwalking behind us. He muttered, “Your competition?”

I snorted. “Um, no, they’re like thirteen.”

The other senior girls walked by right then and I whispered, “But they are.”

Tucker squinted his eyes. “That girl in the green, her standing leg doesn’t straighten and the other one, with the red hair, her turn out sucks.” He ruffled his hair. “Dance moms aremean. I got the whole rundown. I might have signed you up to carpool with Kennedy.”

He reached for the twisted strap of my leotard. “But they were like, ‘that Ella Moynes is the most beautiful dancer’.” His hand dragged down my shoulder. “I said, you should see her with her top off.”

“Eli!” I smacked his hand away and he cackled, tossing his head back.

The senior girls walked by again, whispering to each other. They paused at the desk, chatting with Benito who answered the phones, looking at us over their shoulders. I liked the whispering. I liked how Jessie French ran her eyes unabashedly over Tucker’s tall body, how Heaven kept pinging her eyes back and forth between us. My pointe shoes dangled in my hand. The other girls were barefoot or still in their ballet shoes. I heard the adagio music begin in the studio, meaning we all had shoes to change into and stretching to begin, but they remained in the lobby for one reason only - to spy on me and Tucker.

I liked that they thought he was my boyfriend.

My face burned before I did it. I moved the water bottle into the other hand and got up on my toes, gripping the center of Tucker’s shirt to pull him closer to me. His eyebrows flashed. I pressed my lips to his cheek.

“What was that for?” he whispered, still leaning into me.

I rocked back on my heels. “You’re just being nice to me.”

“I’m always nice to you,” he said, heavily. His eyes lingeredon my mouth.

I looked up from under my eyebrows, challenging.

He shrugged. “I’m inadvertently not nice to you. It’s never intentional.”

Macy peered over the wall and announced, “Guys, Barb is going over the combination.”

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