CHAPTER TEN

Chapter Ten

Finally, it is Friday. The air in the whole school is charged by anticipation and excitement. Even though the show is later on in the day, nobody seems to be calm in the refectory.

    I toss the contents of my sandwich on my plate with my fingers. Cleo is nowhere to be found and Adam does not seem to be at his usual table. That means that they are off together practising. Suddenly, I lose the miniscule appetite I had worked up. I am starting to think that Adam and I will never have our date. Was he just leading me on? Then I remember the way he touched me in the studio, how he kissed my hand and the way he looked at me. Adam does like me. I should give him more time. Or maybe I should work up the courage to ask him out myself. I decide against the idea. I do not think that I can do it before blacking out completely.

    There are no classes today so after breakfast, everyone disperses to their various destinations. I know that I will not see Cleo today until before the show so I retire to my bedroom.

     Dad calls me as I strip out of my gown and fling myself on my bed.

     “Hey, dear!” he greets with cheer from the other line. “Guess who is excited to see the dance today!”

   “Dad, I told you that I did not get the part!”

    “I am still going to turn up. That is how much I love ballet. You know, it is one of the ways I feel close to your mother.”

   “I know, Dad,” I say.

    After a short nap, I go to check whether Cleo is in her bedroom. When I knock on the door, instead of Cleo, Adam answers it.

     “What are you doing here?” The words stumble out of my trembling lips. A thousand different thoughts race through my mind. I want to turn and run, probably hide under my bed. I knew Adam would take an interest in Cleo. Who would not?

     Adam’s eyes grow huge and round like a pair of light bulbs. He scratches the back of his neck, looking every bit as guilty as I know he is. “She . . . she is not feeling too well.”

     His words trigger something inside me. I push past him and enter into Cleo’s bedroom. Cleo is buried under her white fluffy duvet. My heart skips a beat and not in a good way. “Cleo?”

    She does something in between a groan and a moan. Her head peaks out from under the duvet and her bleary eyes blink at me. “Gigi . . .”

     “Are you okay?” I press the back of my hand to her forehead. She is as hot as a kettle full with boiling water. I draw my head away immediately. “Have you gone to the school nurse?”

       “Adam was just about to take me there,” she says with a raspy and hoarse voice. No wonder she was not in the refectory for breakfast. She was sick! Somehow, I feel a wave of relief and it takes me feel like a monster. I show not be happy that Cleo is sick but I am, delighted even. If she does not feel any better by evening, I will dance the Sugarplum Fairy like I was meant to.

     Adam is leaning by the door with his defined arms crossed over his ripped torso. He has a broody look on his face, like he is very deep in thought but his eyes are locked on me! The tightness in my chest that plagues me when Adam is in the vicinity rears its ugly head. I look away from him and back to my writhing best friend.

   “Come on,” I say to her, “Let us get you to the nurse.”

    Adam comes to the bed and helps Cleo stand up. She wobbles and staggers even when Adam is lending her the able support of his body. I hold the door open for them, close it behind me and follow them to the sick bay.

     My trips to the sick bay are never happy ones; I once sprained my ankle, I was put on weight watch last year when the nurse discovered that I was underweight (but not underweight enough to get expelled) and now, I am escorting my ill friend to the sick bay.

    The nurse is a stout light-skinned woman who always looks bored and tired. The antiseptic stench of the sick bay clings to her skin and her uniform. Adam and I stand aside as the nurse does her magic. Apparently, Cleo has a fever and she would be put on bed rest until her condition improves. I promise to visit her before dinner and leave the sick bay.

       In the hallway, Adam grabs my hand from behind and twirls me around so I am facing him. I love when he does that; when he touches me without warning. His touch leaves tingles on my skin, little imaginary tracks to show here it has been. “Guess you are dancing the Sugarplum Fairy now,” he says smugly. Pride twinkles in the pools of his chocolate eyes.

        “What did you do, Adam?” I ask suspiciously, narrowing my eyes and snatching my hand out of his grip.

     Lots of emotions flashes on his face in milliseconds: confusion, surprise, defence and then hurt. “What are you taking about, Gigi?”

       I recognise how absurd my accusation is. How could Adam have given Gigi a fever? “N-Nothing,” I say with a sigh. I rub my eyes and feign a yawn. “I am just so tired and stressed out.”

        Adam’s face morphs into a strange expression. I realise that it is concern. “Oh, that is bad. I hope you are not sick too.” He grazes my cheek with his knuckles; the movement is so feather-light. “I wanted to practise with you, since you are now the Sugarplum Fairy but you should probably lie down.”

      “No, no,” I say shaking my head vehemently. I cannot pass an opportunity to dance with Adam and have his hands on me in privacy. “I think

I can manage it.”

    Adam and I part to go change into our leotards and tights. We dance for several hours. I even forget to go and visit Cleo before dinner. During dinner, as I am sitting across Adam, I remember that I am supposed to meet Malik at the park. I shake the thought away and flash Adam a smile from across the table.