I Wanna Be Where You Are Page 10

  “Oh my God,” I say, laughing. “That was terrible.”

  He tries again and almost stumbles onto the floor. I laugh even harder, and then Geezer starts running around the bed, barking at us.

  “Shhh, Geez!” Eli jumps down and tries to calm Geezer, who is beating his tail against the carpet.

  I plop down in the middle of the bed. Eli and I look at each other like we’re waiting for someone to bang on our door and throw us out of the hotel for having a dog.

  After a few minutes of silence, Eli sighs and I let out a breath. Just as I start to whisper, “That was close,” our room phone rings.

  “Shit,” Eli says. “Just ignore it.”

  “No. What if someone knocks on our door to see what we’re doing? We have to pretend everything’s normal.” I crawl over to the phone and take in a shaky breath before I answer. “Hello?”

  “Good evening, this is Brian from the front desk.”

  “Hi,” I squeak.

  Eli looks at me with wide eyes, mouthing, Who is it? I whisper that it’s the front desk, and he runs a hand over his face.

  “We’ve received a few complaints from guests on your floor,” Brian continues. “They said they heard what sounded like a dog barking. I want to remind you that bringing animals into our building is against our policy and would result in a fine.”

  “Oh! That was just me,” I say quickly. “We’re playing a card game and whenever I win, I get so excited that I start barking. See…” And then, to my own horror, I bark over and over again like a puppy.

  Eli starts cracking up and he rolls away, laughing so hard he has to cover his mouth.

  “Um … all right,” Brian says hesitantly. “Please make sure to keep the noise to a minimum. We would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb the other guests.”

  “Of course. Thanks, Brian.”

  Eli is still laughing when I hang up the phone. Tears are gathering in the corners of his eyes.

  “I can’t believe I just did that!” I say.

  Eli climbs back onto the bed. “That was fucking hilarious.”

  Things don’t feel as awkward as before. I wonder if that’s why Eli started jumping on the bed in the first place. Maybe things were feeling awkward for him, too.

  “I did try to come see you after your surgery,” he says, catching me off guard. “It was the day you came home from the hospital. Your mom told me you weren’t having any visitors.”

  I stare at him for a second. “She never told me that.”

  He laughs, harsh and short, like that’s what he expected me to say. “Of course she didn’t. And I knew for a fact that you were having visitors, because Reina had just left before I walked over. Your mom just didn’t want me to see you.”

  I shake my head, confused. “But why would she do that?”

  “She hates me,” he says matter-of-factly, shrugging.

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  “Yes, she does. You think you’ll only get in trouble for going to the audition? Nah, you’ll really be in some shit once she finds out you’ve been with me this whole time.”

  “She doesn’t hate you,” I repeat. “I just think that her opinion of you is biased. Your mom always complains about you to her.”

  “Yeah, well, my mom also exaggerates a lot.”

  “Maybe,” I mumble.

  I’m still trying to process this revelation. He came to see me. And my mom never said anything about it. Why would she keep something like that from me? I’m starting to feel bad for the way I yelled at him earlier.

  He leans closer, and I don’t back away.

  “I know you’re mad at me,” he says softly. “You’ve been mad at me for a long time.”

  My eyes are drawn to his lips as he lowers his voice.

  He continues, “And I can see why you’re upset.”

  Has he always had such a nice mouth? I can’t look anywhere else.

  “But you breaking your ankle really wasn’t my fault,” he says. “Can’t we just agree to disagree?”

  I snap out of whatever spell he cast over me. I lean back and narrow my eyes at him. “No,” I say. “We can’t.”

  He sighs as I scoot away to the top of the bed and get under the covers.

  In the ballet Giselle, a young peasant girl meets a nobleman who is pretending to be a commoner. Not knowing that he’s of noble birth, Giselle falls in love with him. When she finds out who he truly is, Giselle realizes she can’t marry him, and she goes mad and dies of a weak heart.

  This is the story of Eli and me. I’m Giselle and Eli is the lying nobleman. At times, he pretends to be someone he’s not. A vulnerable boy who cried on my shoulder. A caring boy who tried to visit me after my surgery. But those versions of Eli aren’t real. In truth, he’s simply a trickster.

  And after a million years of knowing him, I still seem to fall for his tricks.

  Chapter 15

  Secrets Revealed

  TUESDAY

  When I wake up, Eli is standing by my side of the bed, staring down at me. His eyebrows are pulled together.

  “Were you having a nightmare?” he asks.

  I sit up and wipe my eyes. My chest feels clammy. The last thing I remember before waking up is sitting on the studio floor, crying over my snapped ankle. Avery Johnson didn’t try to help or ask if I was okay. He looked at me with disdain and said those words again: You’ll never be the dancer you once were. I really hate that my dreams have turned him into a villain.

  “You kept tossing and turning,” Eli says. “And then you started making this grunting noise.”

  “I’m fine.” I push the covers away so that I can see my ankle and make sure it’s still there in one piece. I want to reach down and touch it, but I won’t do that with Eli standing right here. He’s still looking at me with concern.

  “I’m fine,” I repeat.

  “We have to check out soon,” he says. “We need to decide where we’re gonna go.”

  We should probably drive straight down to North Carolina. That way Eli can go with his dad and I can be alone and mentally prepare for my audition tomorrow.

  Tomorrow. It came so fast. Suddenly I feel like I need more time. On cue, my stomach ties itself in knots.

  Eli’s phone starts ringing. As it vibrates around on the bed, I see that the person calling is Larissa.

  “Hey, Riss,” he answers. “I’m not with Dad right now.… No, I’m not at Mom’s either.” He pauses. “I’m in D.C., actually.”

  I stand up and shake out my arms and legs. While Eli talks to Larissa, I walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Geezer trots over to me and I bend down to scratch his head. Thanks to him lying between Eli and me, sleeping in the same bed wasn’t nearly as awkward as it could have been.

  When I finish showering and getting dressed, I walk back into the room to see Eli sitting on the bed with a big smile on his face. When I frown in response, his smile falls, but only a little.

  “Larissa said we can stay with her,” he says.

  Any situation where we don’t have to sneak Geezer into another hotel, or where Eli and I don’t have to share a bed, is fine with me. Plus, it’s not like I have money to stay in another hotel. “Perfect.”

  * * *

  We stop at a gas station in Virginia, about a half hour away from St. Maria College where Larissa is enrolled. Our playlist this time is a mix of today’s R & B (me) and ’90s rap (Eli). Eli is trying to figure out how to work the gas pump, but he’s having trouble. He keeps cursing under his breath, and when a man walks over to offer help, Eli grunts and says he’s okay. He probably doesn’t want people to know we’re spoiled kids from New Jersey who’ve never had to pump our own gas. When he finally gets the pump to work, he sports the world’s most satisfied grin.

  “Hey,” he says, poking his head into the window. “Wanna hear something funny?”

  “Your idea of funny and my idea of funny are very different,” I say. “So, no.”

  He continues anyway. “When we were y
ounger, I used to think that Trey liked you. When he told me he was gay a couple months ago, I was like, ‘Wait, didn’t you like Chloe?’” He laughs. “Funny, right?”

  I shrug. “I thought he liked me, too.”

  “Really?” He leans in farther and raises an eyebrow.

  “I kissed him just before he moved. Then he told me he was gay.” Now I’m the one laughing. “It was so embarrassing.”

  I expect Eli to laugh, too, but he just looks confused.

  “You kissed Trey,” he repeats. “When?”

  “I just told you. The summer he moved. We were hanging out at my house one day.”

  He scratches the back of his neck. “Where was I?”

  “I don’t know. With your dad, I think.”

  “Oh.” He steps away, fiddles with the gas-pump nozzle, and doesn’t say anything else.

  I thought for sure he’d love hearing about how I embarrassed myself in front of Trey. Maybe it’s only funny to me.

  After the tank is filled up, Eli walks around the car and climbs into the driver’s seat. We merge back onto the highway, and for a while there’s only the sound of LL Cool J saying he needs an around the way girl.

  Suddenly, Eli says, “I never knew that you liked Trey.”

  I look at him in surprise. “I didn’t like him. For, like, a second, I thought he liked me, but I was wrong, obviously. It was stupid. We laughed about it afterward.”

  He drums his fingers against the steering wheel, and I can tell he’s thinking hard about what he’s going to say next. “So … was that your first kiss?”

  “Yes,” I say slowly. I shift in my seat to get a better look at him.

  He licks his lips, and my eyes fall to his mouth.

  WHY AM I STARING AT HIS MOUTH AGAIN?

  I turn away and look straight ahead.

  A little smugly, he says, “If I were your first kiss, it probably would have been better. Just saying.”

  Immediately, my cheeks grow hot.

  Then he laughs. He’s not flirting with me. He’s joking, of course. I force out a laugh, too. I thought he was flirting with me, but he wasn’t! Ha-ha! How hilarious!

  It’s a relief when we need to pull over to let Geezer go to the bathroom. As Eli stands with him on the side of the road, I try to get myself together. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up just like Giselle. Flirting is just something Eli does. He’d flirt with a tree if it had boobs.

  More importantly, it’s Eli! Hello! I don’t need any reminders as to why I shouldn’t care if he’s flirting with me or not.

  All I need to worry about is my audition.

  “Riss just texted and said she can’t wait to see you,” he says when he gets back in the car.

  I avoid looking at him. “I can’t wait to see her, either.”

  Larissa. Now that’s a girl who didn’t get easily flustered by boys. Before she went away to college, she was the most confident person I knew.

  “Everything good?” Eli asks.

  “Yep,” I say, channeling what I remember of Larissa’s cool confidence. “Everything’s good.”

  Chapter 16

  Wishes for Daughters

  Every year at the Philadelphia Center for Dance, graduating seniors choreograph their own pieces for the spring recital. Larissa’s senior year, she choreographed a pas de deux for the two of us to perform, and she named the piece “Footsteps.” The choreography was a ripple effect. I mimicked each of her movements, so it seemed like I was trying to copy her, but I was really just trying to follow in her footsteps. Female pas de deux are rare. I think that’s why Larissa wanted us to perform one—she was always somebody who thought outside of the box.

  I’d been trying to follow her footsteps in real life, too. Larissa felt like the older sister I never had. She always came to the mall with Mom and me to help pick out my school clothes, and she did my makeup before our shows. I was at the dance studio when I got my period for the first time, and Larissa was the one who explained how to use a tampon.

  We were the only Black girls at our studio, and I’d joined because Ms. Linda suggested that Mom put me in ballet to keep me busy. It was just after my dad had died, and Mom was still getting used to being a single parent to a three-year-old. The memory of sitting beside Larissa in the back seat of Ms. Linda’s car, wearing pink tights and black leotards, is still so clear in my mind.

  I wanted to be just like her: beautiful and confident. She was one of the best dancers in the senior company, but she’d already made up her mind to quit ballet after graduation, much to Ms. Linda’s disappointment. She’d be starting college in Virginia at the end of summer, leaving dance behind. And me.

  The audience applauded when we finished our piece. Someone even whistled. The praise continued when we hurried offstage into the wings and our classmates congratulated us. I felt too many things: happiness that we danced well and sadness that this was the last time we’d dance together. I looked up at Larissa’s smiling face and surprised even myself when I started to cry.

  Our recitals were always held at the local middle school, so Larissa knew where to go when she quickly ushered me to the bathroom. She closed the door and checked the stalls to make sure we were alone.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, wetting a paper towel and using it to wipe my smudged mascara.

  “What am I going to do when you leave?” I blubbered. “Who’s going to help me with my makeup? You’re the only one who looks like me. I’ll be all alone.”

  “You’ll be okay.” She hugged me close. “I promise you’ll be okay.”

  “No, I won’t,” I said. “You’re going to forget about me once you start college.”

  She pulled back and looked at me. Fiercely, she said, “I would never do that. And you are strong enough to be on your own.” She softened her voice. “You’re meant for this, Chloe. Dancing is in your heart. With or without me, you’ll continue to be great. I was never really meant for this. It’s just something I happened to be good at, but it doesn’t make me happy.”

  I looked at our reflections in the bathroom mirror. We wore matching long-sleeve black leotards and black tights. Maybe someone could have confused us for real sisters. My cheeks were blotchy and wet from crying, while Larissa’s face looked fresh and relaxed. She took the bobby pins out of her hair and undid her bun. Her thick hair sprang free and she scratched her scalp, watching me with a small smile.

  “You’re going to keep getting better and better,” she said. “One of these days I’m gonna have to buy tickets to see you on tour with the New York City Ballet or something.”

  “Maybe.” I felt myself begin to smile.

  “Virginia is far, but you know how bad I need to get away from my mom,” she said. “You can always come visit me. Remember that.”

  I nodded, and she put her arm around me as we walked to the designated “backstage” classroom. Mom and Ms. Linda were already waiting for us.

  “Oh, what happened to the beautiful bun I did for you this morning, Larissa?” Ms. Linda asked, taking in her daughter’s wild hair. “Couldn’t you have waited until we got home to take it out?”

  “No,” Larissa said simply. She took off her pointe shoes, tossed them into her dance bag, and slid on her sneakers. “Can we go now, please?”

  Ms. Linda frowned. “But don’t you want to stay and watch the rest of the recital?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Well, all right, I guess.” Ms. Linda walked over and hugged me. “You danced so beautifully, Miss Thing. You keep on dancing, you hear? It breaks my heart that Larissa is giving it all up so easily.” She looked at Mom. “She still doesn’t know what she wants to major in. I don’t see why she can’t at least be a dance minor.”

  Larissa sighed. “Mom, please.”

  Ms. Linda turned to her. “What? I’m just saying.”

  Larissa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, Mom.”

  “Who do you think you’re rolling your eyes at?” Ms. Linda snapped.
<
br />   “Linda,” Mom said, stepping in. “Let’s save this conversation for another time.” She gestured to the rest of the dancers and their parents in the room. More quietly, she added, “Let’s not make a scene.”

  Ms. Linda pursed her lips and nodded.

  Larissa hugged me one more time before they left. I wanted to go with her, but I still had two more performances, so I stayed backstage and Mom helped me change into my next costume.

  Later that night as we drove home from the recital, Mom cleared her throat and then turned down the radio. I knew it meant she wanted to talk.

  “It’s sad that Larissa gives her mother such a hard time,” she said. “If Linda thinks Larissa should give minoring in dance a try, then that’s what Larissa should do.”

  I thought of how sure Larissa was about her decision to leave dance behind. It seemed unfair that Ms. Linda was bitter over a choice Larissa had made in order to be happy.

  So I asked, “But shouldn’t Larissa do what makes her happy?”

  Mom sighed. “She’s young. She doesn’t know what’s best for her.” We reached a red light and she turned to me. “That’s what parents are for. We point you in the right direction until you’re ready to make your own decisions. That’s what I want you to know.”

  I had a feeling that what Mom said wasn’t completely true.

  Chapter 17

  It Starts Here

  We reach St. Maria in the afternoon. Eli comes to visit Larissa at least twice a year, so he navigates easily through the campus neighborhood and knows where to park. As we walk to Larissa’s dorm, we pass old brick buildings and students wearing red St. Maria sweatshirts and hats. They walk briskly, gripping the straps of their book bags. When we reach her dorm, a group of boys are throwing a football back and forth, and Eli has to hold tight on to Geezer’s leash so he doesn’t take off after the ball and ruin their game.