Part 36 (2/2)

You lie here, sleeping. The bandages can't hope to hide all the damage to your face. But it will heal eventually.

I wish I could be that optimistic about your heart. I want to touch you, but I'm afraid even the slightest caress will cause you pain. I close my eyes, lay my head on the bed next to you. The sheets smell of bleach. But lingering beneath the Clorox is a faint scent of rot.

Is it from your bloated wounds? Or is it decomposing dreams?

As If Hearing My Thoughts She stirs. Her fingers test my hair, recognize it. Hey. Her voice is raspy. Thanks for coming.

I lift my head, look into the slits where her eyes must be. ”Welcome.

Just so you know, you look like c.r.a.p.”

Better than how I feel, then. Guess you know what happen ... the rest is swallowed by a coughing fit. ”Stop talking for once in your life, would you?

Yes, I know what happened. I'm sorry.”

I should h-have l-listened ... and now she's crying, at least I'm pretty sure she is. It's hard to tell.

”Doesn't matter now. What's done is done, as my grandma Grace always used to say.” The thought of her, overseeing my childhood, sears my heart almost as much as seeing Jenna like this does. ”Listen, now.

First things first....” Another Grace-ism.

”You heal up. Once all those st.i.tches come out, my mom wants to see you. She's a regular wizard, you know.

Making girls beautiful is what she does best. You can skip the b.o.o.b job, though. Yours are perfect, as is.” I stand.

”I should probably go now.

Let you rest. I'll come see you again soon.”

W-wait. You never told me about your audition. Wha-what happened? Are you going to Vegas?

I Sit Back Down ”Okay, I'll tell you the story, but only if you're positive you want to hear it, and only if it won't make you too tired.” She gestures for me to go on. ”The show isn't quite the cattle call that some of them are.

They solicit auditions from some of the best dance studios in the country.

Which means it's extremely compet.i.tive.

Liana ch.o.r.eographed an amazing routine for Shantell and me.

We aren't going to Vegas-yet. But we have been called back for a second audition.

Out of five thousand dancers, we are in the top one hundred.

Our next audition is in Los Angeles in three weeks. Liana thinks both Shantell and I have a decent shot.”

Jenna does her best to touch my hand. I'm re-really happy for you.

Know what I think? That you're going to Vegas. Kn-know wh-what else? I'm glad you have the guts to go for your dream. All the talking is tiring her.

”Tell you what. If I make the top ten, I'll make sure you have tickets.”

I whisper-kiss her forehead. ”And don't worry.

Jazz isn't nearly as boring as ballet.” Her eyes close, and I think she must be asleep again, so I start to leave.

Psst, she says, eyes still closed. Know what's bad here? No alcohol.

But know what's good? Killer drugs.

What I Didn't Tell Her Is that I still haven't decided whether or not I'm going down for that second audition. One of the judges, this brilliant Broadway ch.o.r.eographer, totally loved me, at least it seemed that way. He gushed about technique, and when he found out I've only been training for a relatively short while, called me one of the greatest natural talents he's ever seen. Not sure if that was meant for the camera or for real, but I may have a very good chance of finis.h.i.+ng in the top twenty. Which means they'd want me to do the TV show.

Just appearing on Now This Is Dance almost guarantees work, and I'm just not sure that dance can take me where I want to go. Liana says don't even worry about all that yet. You're awfully full of yourself, aren't you?

was actually what she said. You haven't even made it past the second audition, and you're already worrying about how to spend your prize money and organize your tour schedule?

One step at a time, Andre. Now, let's work on that solo.

Prize money wasn't even on my radar.

Maybe because I never expected to get this close. Shantell, however, was not surprised. G.o.d, Andre. What did I tell you? When some snooty ch.o.r.eographer says you've got an incredible natural talent, you get all excited, but when I told you the same thing, you thought I was blowing smoke?

You have to do this. It's a once-in-a lifetime opportunity, and if you don't, I swear you will be sorry. You can always go to college, but if you decide to leave dance behind in favor of school, you may never come back to it. You'll end up in some dull career, with a bucket full of regrets.

Shantell wouldn't dream of not going for it, whatever the outcome on the far end. Maybe that's what I'm really worried about. Not winning.

Not succeeding. I've never failed at anything. Except Jenna.

She's Sleeping Now Off someplace too deep to dream in, thanks to the morphine drip fed into one of her veins. Good drugs, indeed.

I wonder if this girl can be saved, and why she won't save herself.

”I love you, Jenna.” I know she can't hear me, and maybe that's for the best. ”Bye, baby.”

One thing I do know is that I can't watch her self-destruct anymore.

I glance at the big clock on the wall. Almost two. I've got a lesson at three. With Shantell, who will be after me to make a decision. G.o.d, hospitals stink.

All the cleaning they do can't erase the dirt of sickness and death.

I don't look into open doors as I head for the elevator. Don't want to consider what's on the other side. Instead I look down, counting tiles until I reach the bank of elevators.

Just as I get there, a set of doors opens, and who walks out of them but Kendra.

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