Variation: A Novel

BriellePiers73: Best GRWM I’ve seen lately. Good luck today!

“I cannot believe you’re making me do this,” Caroline muttered as we waded through the crowd at the Haven Cove theater and I protected the bouquet of pink peonies that cost a hefty chunk of my pay. “Remind me why?”

The last time I’d simultaneously anticipated and dreaded a day had been when I’d left for basic. Seemed fitting this time revolved around the Rousseau girls too.

Today was the last official day of my relationship with Allie. Every cell in my body rebelled at the thought of walking away. I’d somehow managed to battle last night’s impulses to go AWOL, bloody my hands climbing the trellis to her room like I was eighteen, and lay out a full, exhaustive, thought-out argument as to why she should give us a real chance. I’d saved that for tonight.

“First, because we’re here to support our brother, and secondly, culture is good for you.” Gavin nodded to a year-rounder and his costumed son as they hurried past us with excited smiles.

“Says the man who preaches that Die Hard is a classic.” Caroline shifted sideways, making room for a train of four girls in various colors of tutus. “Not a single one of those girls is a local. Didn’t any local girls enter the contest?”

“I’m sure they did,” I answered.

“I don’t recognize any of them.” Caroline scoured the halls, and I prayed Juniper was already out of sight.

“Trust me, there are more ballet studios around here than you realize,” I muttered.

“Besides, you can’t hate the hand that feeds you,” Gavin argued. “Whether or not you like Sophie Rousseau, you have to hand it to her for bringing in a shit ton of business to a small town. This is the kind of thing that happens in New York or Boston. Not here.”

“Fine,” she grumbled as we turned left into the theater. “I can admit that we made some record-breaking money this week at the café, which is where I should be.”

“Thought you were training a new manager,” I said, skipping over the programs on the table and leading my siblings to the back row. “Part of your whole work-life balance thing.”

“He’s not . . . ready,” she muttered.

“Or you’re just a control freak,” Gavin noted.

“Possibly,” she admitted. “I’m working on it. Just not there yet.”

I scoured the theater, both dreading and hoping for sight of Allie’s mother, but didn’t see her. “Fuck,” I muttered as we slipped past the others in the back row, making our excuses until we reached the dead center, and then I sat, settling the tissue-paper-wrapped bouquet in my lap.

“Who are you looking for?” Caroline asked. “Maybe I can help.”

“Sophie Rousseau.” The judges’ tables were still empty, so maybe Allie was wrong and she’d show.

“You really going there?” Gavin leaned forward in his seat and lifted his brows.

“Don’t really have a choice.” Fear and determination were dangerous when combined, and I’d walked hand in hand with them for the last few weeks, ever since I changed my preference list for duty stations. “If I want a shot at making it work with Allie, I’m going to have to have it out with her mother. The school she teaches at said she’s not interested in speaking with me, and I’d like to get it over with.” Before Sophie realized I was in Allie’s life to stay and destroyed whatever chance Allie and I had. “And I know Allie said she wasn’t coming, but how do you not show up to watch your daughter’s comeback?”

“She’s always been a viper. Sophie, not Allie.” Caroline glanced at the pink roses in Gavin’s lap. “Do you really think it’s appropriate to bring your brother’s girlfriend flowers?”

Shit, those were for Juniper.

“Allie deserves two bouquets.” Gavin shrugged.

“Weird, but whatever. Okay, explain . . .” Caroline set her purse down and gestured ahead of us. “How this works. I never got to this stage.”

“Dancers compete in their division.” I readied my CliffsNotes explanation and searched the theater for any sign of Allie. “Youth all the way to senior. In this case, ten to nineteen. Official judges sit there.” I pointed to the line of judges’ tables four rows down, the empty chairs lit by small table lamps, each marked for the companies who’d been invited to send judges. The others were scattered around the theater, clipboards in their laps, and from experience, I knew it was only a portion of the ones who would show up for the finals tomorrow. “Winners get prizes.”

“Like scholarships to Madeline’s,” Caroline said with a nod. “I know that part.”

“No.” A corner of my mouth quirked. “Madeline will award some scholarships to the local dancers who come in around the top twenty.” Which would hopefully be Juniper. Nausea made me shift in my seat. “Pretty sure Sophie Rousseau only ever invited them to give the appearance of being inclusive. The top winners get to move on to the Grand Prix, where the actual prizes are.”

“And some of them get contracted right out of this theater,” Gavin added.

“So it’s like an opportunity for a team to sign someone before they actually enter the draft.” She nodded. “Got it.”

“Eh . . .” Gavin’s head tilted and his face puckered.

“Close enough.” I smiled for the first time in six days, but it quickly fell as judges and professionals filed in. London, Paris, New York, San Francisco, and Houston all took their places, leaving the center table empty.

“Excuse me.” Eva and a few of the soloists from MBC worked their way down the row below us. She startled, then froze when she saw me and sat immediately, taking the seat in front of Gavin.

“Et tu, Brute?” Gavin flashed a smile when she looked over her shoulder.

“And Allie is competing in this?” Caroline’s brow knit. “Isn’t it . . . you know . . . a little beneath her?” She finished in a whisper.

“Allie’s doing an exhibition,” Gavin said loudly.

Eva whipped around, her mouth falling open as her frightened gaze met mine. “Allie’s what?” Her outburst drew the attention of the other Company members.

“Doing. An. Exhibition,” Gavin said slowly, dragging out the last word.

“That’s not in the program,” Harlow Oren noted, flipping through the pages. “And why are there only three local studios? I thought we usually accepted four.”

“Quinn Hawkins shut down,” Jacob Harvey answered from Harlow’s right, bent over his phone. “Whole big drama about a month ago, remember? Ate up the Haven Cove Classic hashtag for like three days.”

“Oh, right.” Harlow nodded, still searching the program. “Something about NASD getting a complaint about abuse, and you know if NASD is getting involved, someone big in the community filed it.”

Allie. I bit back a smile. She’d handled the teacher who’d thrown the water bottle.

“Seriously, Allie’s exhibition isn’t anywhere in this.” Harlow waved the program and turned to Eva. “Is she even healed?”

“Of course not,” Eva snapped. “So why is she performing?” She aimed the question at me, but I didn’t trust myself to speak to her.

“Because you’ve entered the find-out portion of your relationship,” Gavin answered. “You know, because you fucked around, and now—”

“I know what that means,” she snapped. “Hudson?”

I let my anger slip its leash just enough for her to see, and she paled in the house lights, but I kept my mouth shut. Allie would handle her, just like she’d handled Quinn.

Caroline’s gaze jumped between Eva and me, and then she bristled. “Look, I don’t know what the hell you did to earn what my brother is dishing out—”

“She threw Allie’s reputation in the mud, then stepped on it to steal the role that had been created for her,” Gavin supplied.

Caroline’s mouth unhinged. “But . . . you’re her sister.” Her tone implied that a worse crime didn’t exist. “She defended you. She made sure Hudson pulled you out of the boat first. She—” Caroline’s mouth snapped shut. “You know what? You don’t exist to me. From now on, Allie is the only Rousseau girl as far as I’m concerned.”

“You sure about that?” Eva arched a brow at me.

“Nawh.” Gavin shook his head. “Anne’s pretty fucking great, too, and Lina . . . well, I can say on pretty good authority that Lina would be ashamed of you.”

Eva drew back like she’d been hit, and Caroline looked at Gavin like she’d never seen him before. “Look,” Eva hissed, “if Allie can’t hack it, then she needs to graciously depart so her inability to perform doesn’t hold back Isaac. It’s his ballet too.”

For a second, I wondered if he also called her darling.

“You’re a sh—” Gavin started, then fell quiet as the house lights dimmed and Anne walked out onto the stage with a handheld microphone.

She smiled brightly as the audience clapped. “Thank you. I’m Anne Rousseau, chairwoman of the Haven Cove Classic and daughter of our event’s founder, Sophie Rousseau. It’s my honor to personally welcome you on behalf of our family to the Haven Cove Classic!”

“I thought she was married?” Caroline whispered as we applauded.

“Divorcing,” I answered, noting Anne’s bare left hand. That was a new development.

“But neither of you dated her, right?” Caroline darted a glance at Gavin. “Because I think I’m picking up on a trend.”

I shook my head as the applause died down.

“Mother is currently occupied dedicating herself to the next generation, so you’ll have to deal with me instead.” The audience chuckled. “She founded the Classic to foster the spirit of community, spread the beauty of ballet, and give dancers at every socioeconomic level access to professional critique, advancement, and scholarships from local instructors all the way to international companies.”

She paused for another round of applause, and a flare of pink caught my eye to the left. Juniper peeked over the edge of one of the boxes.

My stomach jolted. Holy shit, she was going to get us caught before she even started.

“As usual, our thanks goes out to our sponsor, the incredible Metropolitan Ballet Company!” She gestured to the auditorium, and a spotlight swung to the door. Reagan Huang and Candace Baron walked in with wide smiles, followed by Vasily, who simply nodded as they took their seats in the center of the judges’ row. “Naturally, this morning’s festivities will focus on our juniors, starting at the beginner division, before our seniors compete this afternoon. My sister and I thought our up-and-coming generation might like to see what’s possible when you follow your passion.” Her smile sharpened as she looked to the judges, like it was directed at Vasily. “From the Metropolitan Ballet Company, please welcome to the stage principal dancers Everett Carr and, for the first time since her injury, my sister Alessandra Rousseau!” Anne gestured to the side of the stage, then quickly retreated into the wings as Everett and Allie walked out hand in hand.

The theater erupted with overwhelming applause, and Caroline put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. I brought my hands together again and again as I drank her in.

She was as radiant as the sunlight she represented in her sunset-colored costume, the jewels and metallic embroidery reflecting the stage lights as she dipped into a low, elegant curtsy, and Everett bowed in black and silver, the personification of night.

Allie stood, her smile lighting up her eyes as her gaze swept the auditorium, pausing on Vasily, then jumping up to me.

I clapped harder, and my chest drew tight. Ten years ago, I’d sat in this very seat and watched the very same woman take the same stage, and held the very same feelings, but now they’d grown tenfold. I could barely breathe around the enormity of what she meant to me. This couldn’t be the last day of our only chance. Not when it felt like this.

Wait and see how she feels after you confess what you’ve done. I shut my conscience down. I’d handle that later, and who knew if I’d get my first selection anyway. But I still had to tell her. I owed her every ounce of the truth.

Everett said something to her, and she broke eye contact, the applause quieting as they took their positions center stage.

“Wow. She looks great,” Caroline whispered. “You’re sure you don’t want to move up to the front?”

“This is the best seat in the house.”

The music started, and within the first few notes, Vasily tensed up like a steel rod had been shoved up his ass, and Eva fell back against her seat. “She wouldn’t,” Eva whispered.

“Find-out portion,” Gavin reminded her in a hush.

All my focus shifted to Allie as they began, moving effortlessly through the pas de deux from the first act of what would be Equinox. They were beautifully matched, clearly comfortable with each other, and set the stage on fucking fire as they acted out the love story between day and night, the reluctant sun and the darkness desperate to feel her warmth.

Allie landed every leap, nailed a series of Italian fouettés, and moved seamlessly with Everett, completely in time and absolutely flawless. Her joy was palpable as he followed her through the piqué turns, and my stomach clenched when he finally captured her as the music built to a peak. I knew the feeling of chasing daylight all too well.

My breath froze as she rose onto her right toe and lifted her left leg to over a hundred and eighty degrees to point at the ceiling, her arms arched gracefully as she held a perfect penché. Every ounce of her weight was exquisitely balanced and supported by the ankle that had betrayed her seven months ago.

And it didn’t so much as wobble.

Pride swelled in my chest, numbing the heartache as Everett turned her in place as though the night wanted to see his prize from every angle, then swept her into his arms and carried her offstage as the music ended.

The room rose to its feet and the applause rattled armrests, the lights on the judges’ tables, the very world.

“Oh my God.” Caroline clapped as we stood. “She’s . . . she’s . . .”

“Perfect,” I finished for her, cradling the bouquet awkwardly in one arm so I could clap.

The noise escalated as Allie and Everett took the stage for a bow, and I felt her smile in every cell of my body as she looked over the audience, her eyes crinkling when she caught sight of Juniper.

Our eyes locked and she nodded, her smile never waning as Everett led her back offstage, and slowly we all took our seats.

“And that,” Anne said from the edge of the curtain, “is how it’s done. Please stick around, we’ll be starting our beginners in five minutes. Naturally, we’ll adjust our expectations accordingly.”

Everyone chuckled except Vasily. He turned in his seat and leveled a look of utter, complete disdain at Eva, who shrank back in her seat and stared blankly ahead.

“Now that was a performance,” Caroline noted, slipping her purse onto her shoulder. “I’m really glad we got to see her.” She rose and glanced down at Gavin. “Are we going?”

Oh shit. Anne had arranged for Juniper to be in the first few, but we hadn’t thought through how to keep her seated until the performance.

“Uhh . . .” He lifted his eyebrows at me. “Sure. But I need to stop at the bathroom first.”

“Seriously? You can’t hold it? Are you five?” she asked, and I forgot my siblings even existed when Allie walked by the main doors.

I jumped over the back of my seat like a teenager and ran into the hallway to catch her, dodging a couple of latecomers. “Allie!” I shouted as a photographer urged her outside.

She said something to Everett, then turned and came straight for me. My grin echoed hers as she crashed into me, throwing her arms around my neck. I held her tight, one hand across the bare skin between her shoulder blades and the other careful not to squash the fortune I’d spent in flowers.

“You were perfect.” I whispered in her ear as she buried her face in my neck, and just like ten years before, I gave two fucks about the stage makeup on my dress shirt. “Stunning. Exquisite. Flawless.”

Her chest shuddered against mine. “Thank you for being here. Seeing you in the back row meant everything.”

“I’m just so fucking proud of you.” I pulled back and cupped her face, letting myself drown in her eyes. “I’m so glad the rest of the world gets to see you shine the way I do.”

She rose up and brushed a kiss over my lips. It took every ounce of my control not to deepen it, but I’d smear the shit out of her lipstick, and she had photos to take. Besides, this wasn’t about what I wanted.

“They’re not from a grocery store this time,” I said as she pulled back, and I handed her the flowers.

“They’re beautiful.” Her smile beamed brighter than the stage lights as she took them, lifting the peonies to her nose and breathing in deeply. “And I love them just as much as the last ones you brought me. Thank you.”

“How fucking could you?” Eva snapped, storming into the hallway with wild eyes, my siblings walking out behind her, trailed by a few of the MBC soloists wearing big grins.

My hands fell from Allie as she turned toward her sister. “How could I what, Eva? Dance the role that was created for me?”

“You did it just to upstage me!” Eva’s face flushed the same scarlet as her blouse. “You did the same thing to Lina, showcasing the Giselle variation before she was supposed to perform it.”

Allie’s eyes widened. “Lina told me to dance the variation from Giselle. We never competed with each other, and we sure as hell never stole each other’s roles.”

“So this is your retribution? Making a fool out of me in front of Vasily? God, Allie, for once, can’t you just get the fuck out of the way so I can maybe see the sun?” Eva shook her fists.

Everett leaned against the wall to my left, tapping on his phone—no, wait, that was Allie’s phone—as if none of this was happening.

“Is that what you were doing when you secretly filmed me, then posted some of my most vulnerable moments for the world to see? That you were getting me out of the way because you can’t find a patch of sunlight anywhere but New York?” She took a step toward Eva, who retreated. “You fed me to the internet and let them brand me a liar. Mom would be so very proud.”

Eva’s mouth snapped shut, and music started in the theater. The first beginner was performing.

“The worst part is, I would have given it to you.” Allie’s voice broke, and she clutched the bouquet tight. “If you’d told me how you felt, I would have had Isaac work with you, craft the perfect part to highlight your talent so you would have shined on your own and risen through the ranks, instead of fueling the incessant gossips wondering exactly what you did to leap over every other dancer at MBC. I would have taken care of you the same way I’ve done since the day you were born. Upstage you with that pas de deux? You’re so damned lucky I didn’t perform the variation.”

“That would have been something to see,” Vasily said, walking past Gavin and Caroline in his open-collared gray suit, and lifting his brow at the other company members before turning to Allie. He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I am, as always, completely stunned by you, Alessandra.” He grinned, flashing a set of dimples at the corner of his mouth. “I daresay that you surpassed your mother today on that stage. Naturally, your part is yours.”

Allie’s shoulders straightened and she dipped into a curtsy. “Thank you, Vasily.”

I held back a fist pump. She’d done it—climbed back from an injury that would have retired most dancers and reclaimed her place as the best.

“But it’s announced!” Eva argued.

Vasily’s eyes hardened, and he looked past her to the other company members. “Find your seats, now.” They scattered, throwing looks of pity Eva’s way, and I saw more than one fumbled phone. “Eva, I gave you that part as a kindness to your mother, and you lied to me about Alessandra in return. Tell me, what else have you been lying about?”

The blood rushed from Eva’s face. “Nothing. I’m good enough for the part. I can hit every element of the choreography—”

“Good enough pales in comparison to perfection. We’ll speak about this after the competition. I need some air.” He straightened his tie and walked out the glass double doors.

“Please, Allie.” Eva turned and clasped Allie’s shoulders. “Please don’t do this to me. Tell him I should have the part. He’ll listen to you. It’s not like you just performed at the Met—we’re in Haven Cove, for crying out loud. This can all be undone. Just tell him you don’t want it.” Her face fell when Allie remained silent. “Oh my God. You don’t want it, do you?”

My eyes narrowed slightly, catching the faint purse of Allie’s lips as the music faded from the auditorium.

“She may not have performed at the Met, but one point four million followers are watching her kick your ass on that stage right now,” Everett said, flipping Allie’s phone around to display the screen, where a video played on Seconds.