Page 49 of Old Acquaintances

“You love attention.”

“I know.” I twisted my fingers together. “I don’t know why but I feel all jittery, like I can’t catch my breath.” I tugged on my bodice and gasped, “This is too tight!”

He said, “Calm down.”

I spun around. “Undo the clasps.”

“Really?”

“Please, I just need some room to breathe before I lose it.”

“Okay, okay.” He came up behind me, breathing down on my neck.

“They’re hook-and-eyes. You have to-”

“I know how tounhookthings, Ella,” he muttered in my ear.

I shut my eyes at the suggestion. “Gross.”

Silently, Tucker undid the clasps, and I clutched the front of the costume to my chest. Someone announced five minutes until the curtain was back up. When the cold air hit my bare back, I didn’t feel any more relaxed or steady.

Noticing this, Tucker’s warm hand spread along my spine. I flinched. He told me to breathe.

I kept my eyes closed, breathing through my nose, hoping my eyeliner wasn’t smearing. Folding my tutu down, Tucker came up beside me and put his other hand on my right shoulder. He pulled me to his side, running his hand down the length of my back and neck. The tightness of his grip, the pressure of his hand, made me feel weighted. He breathed slowly beside me, and my pattern started to match.

His hand went low down my back, dipping into the inside of my costume. His fingers stretched along the side of my waist. I jolted and he said quickly, “Sorry. Sorry.”

“I think I’m okay now,” I whispered. I opened my eyes. “You can hook me back in.”

He nodded silently. When my costume was righted, I heard the two-minute warning and spun back to him. “You’re all covered in glitter.” I brushed his arms clean.

“At least it’s not one of your battle wounds.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why did you come back here?”

“I just wanted to see you before you went on.”

Without thinking, I muttered, “You always seem to be exactly where I need to you be.”

He blinked. “My mom says I have a sixth sense when it comes to you.”

I cleared my throat and stepped back. Jeffrey hurried down the stairs from his dressing room and yelled to me, “Ella, the orchestra’s about to start.”

“Who’s that?” Tucker asked.

“My partner.”

He clucked his teeth. “I’ll bet heloveshaving his hands all over you.”

“He’s gay, Tucker.”

“Sure.” He pinched his lips into a tight line. I held onto his elbow while I pulled the booties off of my pointe shoes. His eyeline shifted. “What’s with them?”

I twisted my head to see the group of pastel-dressed girls whispering to each other in a corner, watching us. Macy points and mutters something. “They think you’re my boyfriend.” I shrugged, as if that was the wildest assumption.

“Because of the flowers?”

I laughed lightly. “Among other things.”

---