Sunday Snippet

 

My snippet today is from my novel, Torn, the first book in the En Point Series. The sequel, Bete Noire is also available to read on Amazon and KU. 

Snippet , Torn, En Pointe, Book One

St. Petersburg, Russia, 2018

Misha

When the curtains whirred open and the house lights dimmed, the entire corps de ballet was in position. We’d rehearsed a hundred times and were prepared for any eventuality, but when the packed theater let out a collective gasp upon seeing the glorious sets, and spontaneous applause swept through the audience, it felt absolutely surreal. No one had prepared me for this moment, and the short hairs at the back of my neck stood on end.

As youngsters back in Tallinn, Talia and I had talked about a mythical future, dancing in front of a live audience in the most famous theater in Russia, but the reality was far more satisfying. I glanced in her direction, and judging by her brilliant smile and spots of color high on her cheekbones, I knew she was enraptured.

As I waited for my cue, I remembered how it all started.

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.

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AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE OR A FREE READ WITH KU: AMAZON