Aly to make cookies.
Of course, I wasn’t entirely sure it was a good idea anymore. I couldn’t get Katherine’s words out of my head. I was returning to New York in a week. My life was there. I was at the top of my game. Could I give that up? Would Isaac even want me to?
I shook my head to clear my mind, but it did nothing. All my thoughts just swirled and swirled and swirled. There was only confusion and hopes and wants and then reality. A constant push and pull. One I was very familiar with from a decade ago. I checked the time. Thirty minutes before I needed to leave, and I made a snap decision. I didn’t want to sit and obsess for another thirty minutes.
So, I left the rest of the paperwork and grabbed pointe shoes and a pair of shorts out of my bag. Once I changed, I stepped into the dimly lit studio. No one else was even here right now. I had it all to myself.
I knew my body well enough to start with a quick warm-up to get my muscles moving. A series of pliés, tendus, and relevés before stepping away from the barre and into the middle of the floor. With no music, I just let myself glide across the floor. Until I realized I was in the middle of a seventeen-minute solo that I’d performed two years ago before a packed audience at Lincoln Center. Aside from Swan Lake, it was the hardest performance of my life. The sheer energy and technicality had pushed me to my limits.
Truthfully, I hadn’t even been sure that I’d be able to get it right by the time we were performing. Seventeen minutes was an unbelievably long time to be alone onstage without a break. I had to be engaging. I had to be breathtaking. And I had to be perfect. Story of my life.
At the end of the final turn sequence, I landed in a soft fourth position, my chest heaving. I was definitely out of shape for that number, but I’d finished it.
And then I heard soft applause from the studio entrance.
I jumped, whirling around to find Bebe standing in the doorway. “Bebe, you scared me.”
Her smile was electric as she held her brown toe shoes. “Sorry. I had a half-day, and I wanted to work on that turn section.” She took a step forward, wringing her shoes. “How did you do that?”
“How long were you standing there?”
“Long enough,” she said with awe in her voice. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I laughed softly and wiped sweat from my brow. “Believe me, I’ve performed it much better. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of shape for it.”
“No, you looked so…happy. As if you’d found your place in the universe.”
That was exactly how I always felt while dancing. “That’s what you look like, too, you know?”
Bebe flushed and looked away. “I don’t know. I’m never going to be as good as you.”
“Not with that attitude. The differences between the best dancer in the world and you are two things: experience and confidence. Experience, you’re going to have to earn just like anyone else. Confidence…that’s all you, Bebe.”
She stood a little straighter. Her head tilted upward. “Thank you, Peyton. I’m glad that you’re here in the studio. I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Katelyn the way you did.”
I sighed. Ah, the crux of the problem. I headed over to where she stood and put my hand on her shoulder. “Katelyn only has as much control over you as you let her.”
“She thinks I can’t handle this just because I’m new.”
“Do you think that?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” she whispered. “But I won’t give up.”
“Good. Never give up, or she wins.”
Bebe nodded. “Thanks, Peyton. I guess I’ll get to work on that turn sequence.”
“That’s a good idea. And then maybe, next week, we can talk about summer intensives.” I arched an eyebrow.
“Oh,” she whispered. “You think so?”
“You’re good enough. You just have to believe it.”
She nodded. “All right. I trust you.”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat as I left her to practice for our final weekend. I changed back into my jeans and headed out to my borrowed car. The wind had really picked up. It was beginning to look dangerous out here. I wondered if we were going to have to cancel the show tonight if it snowed.
I plopped down into the car and slammed the