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Talia
and I had been inseparable as children. She lived a few houses away, and we walked
the same route to school each day. Marina, her mother, had become fast friends
with Vanaema as they strolled behind us. In the summer, we picnicked at Reiu
Beach and showed off our athletic prowess by cartwheeling and tumbling on the
sand. In the water, we practiced our lifts without risking serious injury.
The
adults had discussed the possibility of enrolling us in gymnastics so we could
expend our energy in the right environment, but Talia had vetoed the
suggestion, insisting on ballet instead. I’d gone along with her plan because I
could never say no to my best friend.
The
local teacher, a retired ballerina herself, had agreed to take us on. Alla and
Marina huddled together with other hopeful parents in the waiting room of the
small studio. Separated by a wall with an enormous glass window, they followed our
progress with interest as we were led through the grueling paces. There were no
other boys at the barre when I’d first enrolled. Eventually, Henri had joined
our group. By then, we were already dreaming about our future on stage.
Onu
Janek accompanied us to class for an entire week and watched as I did my level
best. As an active patron of the Vaganova Ballet Academy, he’d seen enough
dancers to know when someone was going through the motions or wholeheartedly
engaged. I came alive the minute I stepped onto the wooden floor. Kinetic
energy radiated off me in astonishing waves, and when I glanced in Onu’s
direction, I saw tears welling in his arctic-blue eyes. My tentative pirouettes
had been met with an approving nod from Madame Stupnitsky who kept time with
the beat of her cane, a permanent fixture thanks to a bum knee sustained in a
career-ruining fall. After Onu had checked out her credentials and found her
deserving, he’d handed over a wad of cash and told her there would be more if
she spent extra time with me.
Talia
benefited from his patronage because she was my friend. Henri was admitted into
our inner circle after handing Onu a bag of classic French croissants, and he’d
savored each buttery bite of the crescent-shaped roll. When Talia had insisted
on partnering with me, Onu recognized a pas
de deux in the making.
A
successful pairing depended largely on physique. Before puberty, it was
impossible to tell if the match would work or not. The girl couldn’t be taller
or heavier than her partner. The boy had to be strong enough to lift his
partner without overextending his back. It was a risk to pair such a young
couple, in case nature had other ideas, but Talia stubbornly clung to her dream
of dancing with me by her side.
Now,
in my sixteenth year, I had passed Talia by several inches, and thanks to my consistent
bodybuilding, had added many more layers of muscle. I would never be one of the
taller dancers, but at five-feet-eleven, I made an excellent partner for Talia
who stood at five-feet-four. Even when Talia got en pointe, I bested her by
several inches. I could lift her above me without a wobble, and our fish dives
were close to perfect. Aside from our physical compatibility, the level of
trust between us had been established years ago. Talia never worried about her
safety when she launched herself into the air, knowing I would catch her or die
trying. Our intuitive connection gave us the upper hand in the special dynamic
between partners. We moved as one unit, and I had always put Talia’s safety and
comfort first. I encouraged her when she was down, and Talia always boosted my
confidence when I stumbled during a difficult movement. It was never a question
of who was right or wrong only how we could improve to showcase each other’s
best qualities.
Henri
was a little over six feet tall and still growing. He would have a lot more
choices when it came to partnering, but he wanted a solo career, which was just
as well. We wouldn’t have to fight for Talia’s attention, although I knew Henri
couldn’t care less about her. The animosity between them that had started when
he’d first shown up had continued to grow through the years. It was the dark
cloud in our bright future. I tried to smooth the path toward a genuine
friendship between my two best friends, but I was always disappointed. Talia
accused me of being blind to Henri’s faults, and since he was perfect in my
eyes, I couldn’t disagree. Onu advised a gentle let-down because he was
convinced Henri was falling in love with me. I told him Henri wasn’t gay. Onu said
I was a complete blockhead if I missed the admiration in Henri’s eyes. I
continued to speculate about Henri’s orientation until my thirteenth birthday.
Vanaema
had allowed him to spend the night to help me celebrate, and when she shut her
bedroom door and turned off the lights, Henri pulled me into the bathroom.
“What
are we doing here?”
“Do
you want a special present?”
“What
sort of special?”
He
stepped a little closer. “Have you ever… you know.”
I
wasn’t one hundred percent sure I understood, but he had to be talking about
wanking since he was pointing at my crotch. I’d been perpetually horny back
then, so Henri’s question was intriguing to say the least.
“Doesn’t
everyone?”
“It’ll
be so much better if I do it for you.”
I
sucked in a shocked breath. “Do you want to touch me?”
“Will
you knock my head off if I say yes?”
“You’re
gay?”
He
bobbed his head. “Are you disgusted?”
I
shook my head. “What’s it like?”
Tentatively,
he kissed me on the lips. Previous to this, my experience had been limited to
chaste kisses on Talia’s cheeks. Henri’s brief touch was electrifying, and I
licked my lips, hoping for more. “Do it again.”
The
second kiss carried a bit more heat, and when he slipped his tongue into my
mouth, desire flooded my veins. “More,” I whispered when we broke apart.
He
palmed my chub outside my sweats and squeezed. “Are you ready for my present?”
I
shuddered and couldn’t stop the hot spurt of release as I came. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t
be. It happened to me too.”
Torn is available for purchase at AMAZON or free to read with Kindle Unlimited.
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