If (21 page)

BIRD

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Jordan came in screaming as he busted into my apartment, flailing his phone in the air.

“You go it? You got it!” I said. “Ahhhhh!” Jordan and I jumped up and down. Ash came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I take it something really good just happened?” he said as we shrieked.

“My ear!” I heard Trevor plead through the speaker phone.

“Alana called me herself. She wants to meet tomorrow. The show will have three distinct acts. I will choreograph one. The theme of the show will be parables told through animals. Our section will be about the jungle at night. Glow in the dark costumes, black lights, neons, it’s going to be amazing. You’ll have to audition, but I want you in.”

“Congrats man!” Ash patted Jordan on the back.

“They want to move fast. Show in four and a half months showing for four weekends. If it’s successful, there will likely be a tour.”

“This is crazy!”

“I know. They have a casting call out, but I want you as one of the leads, and those will be individual auditions.”

“Oh my god, oh my god!” I jumped into Ash’s arms, wrapping my legs around him. He held onto me with one arm, while scrambling to keep him towel on with the other.

“You got this,” he winked and I planted one right on his lips.

I had pretty much forced Ash to rest at my place after I found him and he was finally getting his appetite back to put on the weight he had lost. I made him promise to take it easy and not get too wrapped up with his work. I understood that sometimes inspiration grips you and takes a hold of your mind until you let it out, but if you don’t manage that as an artist, you burn out, or even worse. Sometimes the very thing that gives you purpose as an artist, the angel of inspiration, can transform into a demon.

I was going to help Ash achieve balance in his life. I knew once he got a hold of that, he would be able to achieve commercial success. I could just feel things were starting to look up for us. Jordan got this huge gig, I was getting the audition of a lifetime, and Ash would be getting a job and finishing his project.

“Alright girl,” Jordan said, pulling me off from Ash. “We need to talk about your audition because I want you to nail it and it’s on such short notice.” He turned to Ash. “Can I steal her?”

Ash smiled, but the smile was heavy. He was still a little tired. “Of course. Make her shine the way she shines in my eyes.”

BIRD

During my last big audition, I drank too much water beforehand. Which is why I had to pee so bad, and how I ended up in the bathroom overhearing those girls taunting me. I didn’t need that kind of negativity in my life, so I didn’t drink very much water this morning, and now my throat was dry as I stood in front of Jordan, Alana Roché DeMill, and the head of production for Danse Nocturne.

I couldn’t believe THE Alana was here, but apparently, she believed in this project heavily and would oversee everything, including auditions.

“Are you ready?” Jordan asked stoically, as if he hadn’t seen me in the shower or raided my fridge a hundred times.

I cleared my throat, desperately trying to generate some moisture, and nodded. He pressed play on an iPhone hooked to a speaker and “Never is a Promise” by Fiona Apple began to play. I was asked to come in with an original piece and I spent the past two weeks working ferociously on it.

As soon as I extended my arm for the first beat, I closed my eyes and the nerves that pricked my skin melted away like warm wax. I had no fear. Fear was not a choice. I had to get this right. If I blew it, I didn’t deserve to be in LA. I should just pack my bags. People would kill for this opportunity, and I had to do it justice.

I barely remember the dancing itself, as each move was its own distinct moment in time, lived and forgotten as the next one came. And then there I was, folded, as the last note of the music sang.

I looked up, scanning the usually dead eyes for a hint of assurance, and I saw Jordan’s flash to tell me I did well.

I was expecting to be dismissed. But Alana whispered something to Jordan, then leaned back and uttered something to the director. She looked at me, raised her finger, and motioned for me to come up to the table.

I wanted to run to her, but my body moved like it was trudging in mud. Alana was middle-aged and elegant, her posture and physique still undeniably that of a dancer. Her salt and pepper hair was fiercely straight and shoulder length, and she wore an enormous cream sweater that should have been bulky, but magically fell in all the right places.

When I made it to the table, she motioned for me to come closer. I bent over and she squished my cheeks in her hand, which was covered in several large rings, turning my face sharply from one side to the other.

“You don’t get much work because of your face, no?” she said in the faintest French accent. Alana released her grip and I stood up sharply. My eyes bounced over at Jordan and the other guy, but their expressions seemed as uncomfortable as mine. I should have been insulted, and maybe stormed out, but Jordan had warned me that she was unusual, and there was something in her directness, in an industry full of phonies, that was comforting.

So, I just barely shook my head.

“Well, most people are stupid cunts who wouldn’t know true beauty if it jeté’d all over their face,” she said in disgust. “If those assholes spent less time looking at a few scars, and more time focusing on your technique and spirit, they would see what a fine dancer you are.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jordan’s big white smile light up. He knew she was going to compliment me.

That evening I received a phone call. I would be in all three acts of Danse Nocturne, not just Jordan’s.

BIRD

THAT NIGHT, ASH
and I celebrated with pizza on the roof. It had become our regular secret hangout spot. While he was sick, I had taken all of his work and stashed it in my storage locker downstairs with his permission. Now, we were just surrounded by black tar covered in splashes of vivid color.

Occasionally, especially at night, Ash would get antsy about being cooped up. He didn’t like walls, which I took for him being somewhat claustrophobic. The roof was a place we could go to get some space and air. On a few perfect nights, when sleep tried to evade him, we even made a makeshift bed and slept up there.

It was on this particular night that Ash first told me he loved me.

“Eat up, skinny!” I said, opening the pizza box.

“You should talk, bird legs.”

“Low blow!” I playfully sneered at him.

“Oh I love your legs,” he said, pulling one towards him, and kissing the inside of my shin softly. “Long, toned, creamy . . .”

I giggled.

“Your feet on the other hand. No one warns you when you date a hot dancer that you should check those first.” He grabbed my foot in his hand as I tried to flail out of his grip.

“These feet are going to be all over the stage of Danse Nocturne,” I said, tauntingly flexing and extending my toes. I was so happy that Ash was feeling better.

“I’m thinking I’m ready to paint again.”

“That’s great. But please, take it easy this time. You can’t just wear yourself out like that.”

“I know. I will.”

“Because I need you healthy and I don’t ever want to see you back out there. You can’t leave me like that again. Things are finally starting to look up.”

“I won’t.”

He looked and me with a mischievous smirk.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking.” Ash grinned. “You’re a ballsy little bird.”

“Ballsy?”

“Yeah, and feisty.”

“Where’s all this coming from?

“You moving out here, supporting yourself when your parents would just pay for you to do what they want. The way you pour your soul out at auditions where people judge you and you keep doing it. Most of all . . . the way you jumped in the night we met. I was dick about it. I never thanked you. That was incredibly brave. You are a brave person. One of the bravest people I know. It’s a rare quality. My dad would like you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He always talked about the people in the military, the things he had seen. The acts where people put themselves at risk for someone else. And you didn’t even know me, Bird. Like I said. Brave.”

“Or incredibly stupid.”

He picked at his pizza. “Meh. Bravery can look that way to some. Especially cowards.”

“That was deep. Did you make that up?”

“I want to say I did, but it sounded a little too good.”

“Well, thank you. I’m glad one person doesn’t think I’m a complete fool.”

He shook his head at me. “I have to tell you something.” It never sounds like it’s going to be good when someone says that.

My stomach twisted. I always feared there was something lurking that was unsaid, but things were going well and I told myself it was just me, while always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“What is it?” I tried to sound comforting, but the words came out in a panic.

Ash looked down, hesitating. It made my heart pace faster. “I love you.” His pale jade eyes met mine.

It felt like those superhero movies, where the damsel in distress is falling to her death, and then the hero flies out of nowhere and scoops her up and shoots up into the sky. One extreme, followed by another.

Ash was my superhero, except instead of superhuman strength or the ability to fly, he had super senses and a magical paintbrush.

I don’t know why, but I cried. Not all-out weeping, but a tear escaped my eye. I think it was because of how far the person in front of me had come. He was someone who didn’t even want to defend his own life, someone who always looked down, who wanted to be forgotten. And now, he was coming to life.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, wiping the tear away.

“Because you’re going to be amazing one day, and I get to watch you grow in front of my eyes.”

He wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

“Oh, and I do, too. Love you, that is. I kind of have for a while,” I confessed.

“Ditto.”

That night we fell asleep under the open sky.

ASH

“Where’s Sarah?” I asked as I woke up.

Mom was wrapped in dad’s arms, sobbing. Miller was standing at the foot of my bed, his eyes swollen and red.

“Dad?” I asked. I just needed someone to tell me how Sarah was doing.

His bottom lip quivered. My stomach sank. I had never seen my dad cry. He was the strong soldier. He always kept a poker face.

“Ash . . . Sarah’s gone,” dad said. “She didn’t make it.” My mother’s legs went out from under her and Miller dove to help dad catch her.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The windows began to trickle with water. Then they shattered. The room filled up at a record rate.

I watched my mother, father, and brother battle the current as the water overtook them. I watched their bodies jerk as they inhaled water instead of air. Eventually, they all became still.

I was the last to drown.

Then I opened my eyes again. I was dry. The hug of fabric restricted me.