Page 49 of Tension
“Again,” I demand, trying to mask the weariness in my voice as I cue the music for the next dance. Greyson starts the Paso Doble section, stomping into the opening pose with the kind of flare that would’ve thrilled judges back in our prime.
I mimic the steps beside him, pushing through the aching stiffness in my ankle. The music blares, and I manage to let it swallow me whole for just a moment. Until Greyson kills the music with a single flick of his wrist.
“Alright, what gives?” I blink, breathless, and glance over. Greyson stands beside the soundboard, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes narrowed with quiet suspicion. “You’ve been off all morning.”
“I’m fine.” I swipe sweat from my brows and lean on the barre, stretching one leg out behind me.
He scoffs. “Don’t lie to me, Vae. I can smell it when something’s festering. Is everything okay between you and Mateo?”
I freeze. My knee tenses in the stretch, heart skipping a beat as I slowly lower my leg. I don’t answer right away, which only makes the silence heavier.
“I haven’t seen him,” I finally admit. “He hasn’t come to class. No explanation. No word.”
Greyson studies me, maddeningly quiet for a moment. “It’s the holidays, Vae. Some people have lives, unlike us. Did something happen?”
Yes.
But I don’t answer. I don’t even nod. Instead, I turn my back and grab the choreography sheet, pretending to reread the notes I’ve already memorized.
He sighs. “You know, it’s not just about getting to Paris. That boy’s trying to move on. I don’t think he can afford to get burned again.”
My spine stiffens. “You think I don’t know that?” I whisper.
“I think you forget,” Greyson says gently, stepping closer, “that there’s a difference between being careful and being cold.”
“I’m not cold,” I snap, whirling to face him. “I’m—” I falter. “I’m trying to protect both of us… from a disaster we can’t afford.”
Greyson’s face softens. “Then make sure he knows that, because right now, it feels like he’s been left to figure that out on his own.”
My throat tightens as I nod. He turns back to the speaker, giving me a moment to gather myself, but my hands shake as I retie the knot on my hip scarf. Greyson’s right. Mateo didn’t just disappear, he shut down, and I know what that means for someone like him. For someone clawing their way back from addiction and loss.
I tell myself I’ve done the right thing by stepping back, but deep down, the guilt twists inside my gut like a knife. I haven’t just stayed away from him. I’ve abandoned him, and the worst part? I miss him so badly, I can’t even breathe.
The air is thick with sweat and music. Greyson and I have been at it for hours, fine-tuning the tempo on the Jive until my joints ache and my patience wears thin, but I need the pain, because it gives my guilt something to anchor itself to.
“Let’s try the breakaway again,” I murmur, repositioning Adam and Kari. My voice is tight. Clipped. Anything to keep myself from drifting back into thoughts of Mateo and where the hell he’s been. Greyson gives me a look, one that says he knows I’m pushing myself harder than usual, but he doesn’t stop me. He just queues the music and we count it in.
Eight… seven… six…
Laughter breaks across the studio, and I stiffen. Not just any laughter.His.
My head snaps toward the entrance, heart jerking inside my chest like it’s been plucked by a string. Mateo’s walking through the front doors, sunlight chasing his heels, arm slung casually around Yvonne’s shoulders. They’re both smiling and laughing. His head dips close to hers as she says something that makes him grin wider.
The sound is warm, effortless and free, and it cleaves me clean open.
I can’t move. I just stand there, frozen, the music still blaring behind me, watching him like a ghost haunting a place he no longer belongs in. He looks so alive. The bruised shadows that clung beneath his eyes for weeks are gone, and in their place is something brighter.
Relief surges through me first. He’s here, he’s smiling, and he’s okay. Then jealousy slides in behind it, unwelcome but impossible to ignore, because it’s not me who’s making him laugh. It’s her.
Yvonne catches my eye across the room, her expression unreadable for half a second, until it isn’t. Her smile widens, lips curling as she leans just a little closer into Mateo’s side. It’s a subtle dig, but she might as well have screamed it.I know you want him, and now he’s all mine.
My throat tightens, but I refuse to show it. I turn away, spine stiff and chin high, and clap my hands sharply to get the group’s attention. “Alright, everyone. That’s enough warm-up. Let’s run through the full routine.”
My voice rings out, professional and steady, and the dancers fall into place around me. I see Greyson shoot a quick glance in Mateo’s direction, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. The unspoken tension is its own presence in the room.
Mateo finally pulls away from Yvonne and starts stretching near the mirrors. Our eyes don’t meet. Good, that’s how it should be.
I turn toward the stereo and cue the track, letting the pulse of the Jive beat drown out the thoughts clawing at the inside of my skull. It’s better this way.
