Page 18 of With You

Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.

Chapter 8

Amelie

This is a bad idea.

River’s fingers press into my waist, then loosen again, and I have to remind myself how to breathe properly. The video loops to the beginning again, and I copy the female ballerina’s pose, rising en pointe as I extend one leg into the air beside me. I swing my leg down, planting my foot flat on the ground as I prepare to leap, hoping that River understands what he’ll have to do in the next few seconds. He lifts me right as I jump, his hands secured around my body, but the feeling is so strange that I lose all focus and drop to the ground.

I step out of his grip, covering my face with my hands as I try to compose myself. It was going fine. He did the right thing, perfectly mirroring what the male ballerina on the screen did by bending his knees slightly and lifting me up. I should have extended my leg before landing, carried on into the next move, but I couldn’t think about anything but his hands on me.

I love ballet because of how strong it makes me feel, and the discipline it’s taught me. I’ve trained my body for years, so I’m able to carry myself on the tips of my toes, left my feet bruised and scarred, and danced through the pain that comes with every performance. None of that is ever a distraction. But River’s hands are.

We were so close I could feel his muscles tense as he wrapped his arm around me to safely perform the lift, the press of his fingertips across my torso as he held on so I wouldn’t drop, the warmth of his front pressed against my back.

There’s a reason I never dance with a partner. There’s something so intimate about it, the touches and close contact needed to perform a routine. I’ve never enjoyed being that close to someone else, having to rely on them when I’m good enough to do it alone. It’s always been my weakest spot, and as much as I hate having one, it’s not something I cared to put too much time and effort into fixing. I’ve never needed a partner, but now my future rests on it.

I thought I’d be okay with River because we already know each other, but I think it’s only making it worse. I know River is a good dancer, I know he puts effort into everything he does, and I know he’s going to try his hardest for this. But being so aware of that is making too many conflicting thoughts run through my mind, trying to reconcile the River that always argues with me with the River that dropped everything just because I asked for a favour.

“You okay?” he asks gently, breaking me out of my spiral.

I nod, bringing my hands down to my hips, but keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. His gentle tone makes me worry about what I’ll see if I look at him.

“Maybe we shouldn’t jump right into it,” he continues, still speaking softly, as if he’ll spook me away. It’s unnerving. “How about we break down the moves, practice it one step at a time?”

It’s the smart thing to do. I was mistaken in thinking we could do the routine straight away. No matter how talented we both are, it’s still a brand-new experience for us.

“Okay,” I say, finally working up the nerve to look at him.

River’s lips press into a thin line, a slight curve at the corners as he gives his best impression of an encouraging smile. He walks over to our phones, stops the recording on his, then takes mine and brings it over to me.

He sits on the floor, one knee propped up with his other leg crossed under it. I lower myself next to him but keep my distance as he holds the phone between us. We watch the video again, slowing it down so we can break down what we need to do.

“That first dip, my hand needs to go up a bit higher, I think. Is that okay?” He asks, noting the way the male dancer’s hand slides across the front of the female’s side to her torso.

“That’s fine,” I tell him.

Logically, I know River will have to touch me in places no one else ever has before. Our bodies are all we have to rely on for this performance, and if I want to get this spot in the showcase, I have to be comfortable with it. I can’t quite focus on that, though, because my mind keeps fixating on the fact that I’m doing all of this with River Campbell. The boy I’ve despised for as long as I’ve known him, who gets everything in the world of ballet handed to him just because he’s a man.

But despite all of that, he’s the only boy I trust to do this with. Not to say I trust him entirely. The jury is still out there, and he might disappoint me in the end, but I can’t think about that now. We just have to get through this audition, and we can figure out the rest later.

We go through the video multiple times, discussing the different moves we’ll have to do together. It’s an intimate dance, the start of Romeo and Juliet’s love story. It’s one of my favourite pieces, and every time I’ve seen it performed, it’s hard to believe the dancers aren’t actually in love with each other. While we’ll of course have to execute the moves perfectly, we also need our currently non-existent chemistry to come through. Dancing isn’t just about executing moves correctly. It’s about feeling and understanding the music, making your body speak a language that doesn’t need any kind of translation. In a piece like this, that first spark of love, the excitement and newness of Romeo and Juliet’s relationship is vital to the performance.

And it all culminates in their first kiss at the end.

Neither of us mentions it.

It’s the sealing of Romeo and Juliet’s fate, and arguably the most anticipated part of the performance for spectators. It’s a fluid movement as the female ballerina rises en pointe, letting herself be lifted slightly by the male ballerina as he spins her slowly right before they kiss.

My cheeks burn every time it plays, and I can’t even bear to think about what River must be thinking. We may be able to avoid it for the audition, but if we perform this for the showcase, we’ll have to kiss. The video replays again, ending at that same moment, and I steal a glance at River in my peripheral. A tinge of red stains the tips of his ears, his jaw tight as he keeps his eyes on the screen.

“We can just do the first minute, right?” he asks, almost as if he’s been reading my mind this whole time.

As full as it is of close contact between the two dancers, it’s also the safest part of the routine as it’s only the start of Romeo and Juliet’s relationship.

“Yeah, that’s all,” I confirm.

He nods slowly before he taps the screen to pause the video, freezing it on the frame just before their lips meet.