Dancing for the Lord The Academy

Chapter Ten

Danni stood in front of the mirror, carefully smoothing down her tutu. She was the Sugar Plum Fairy! It seemed unbelievable, even after the last two weeks of absolute insanity. She had practiced the dance a hundred times. Androv had referred to her as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Nick had repeated it over and over again, whenever she needed to hear it. It still didn’t seem entirely real.

But here it was. She was wearing the beautiful pink tutu, her face made up perfectly, her hair twisted into a perfect arrangement. Her warm brown eyes sparkled. This was really it—the final dress rehearsal. Today, she would show Androv that he hadn’t made a mistake in allowing her to take the role, in spite of the fact that she had been at the Academy for no time at all.

And she was dancing with Nick. That was the part that warmed her the most. Whatever happened out there, during the pas de deux, at least, Nick would be there to catch her hand and let her know that everything was all right.

Someone knocked on the door to her dressing room and came in without waiting for a response: Nick.

“What’s wrong?” Danni turned immediately, seeing the pinched look around his eyes and worrying. He had been fine when she left him only an hour before. What could have changed?

“I’m okay, Danni.” His voice said one thing; his eyes said something else entirely, she thought, studying him. “It’s just Kat being Kat, okay?” He forced a grin that didn’t meet his eyes. “She’s just jealous because you make a better Sugar Plum Fairy than she does.”

She didn’t let him get away with the compliment and walking away. “What did she say to you, Nick?” Her voice was gentle, compassionate—the voice that she had learned would get him to tell her the truth most of the time. It was the easiest way to get him to admit that his shoulder was hurting, and the fastest way to get him to tell her what was really on his mind—it hadn’t taken her any time at all to figure that out.

His face fell, almost as though it was beyond his conscious control. “I didn’t—she said—“ He closed his eyes, probably to hide the tears burning there. “She said she wouldn’t dance with me again if I was the last guy at the Academy.”

The blow had gone deep. He hadn’t cared that much about Katarina personally—didn’t even like her—but they had been a good team. Hearing that she, who had no other prospects, didn’t even want him…it was a serious insult. Danni understood it immediately, and felt not the slightest hint of jealousy—just concern. It wasn’t that Nick particularly wanted to go back to Katarina, though she knew he had been keeping that option open for next year, when Michael joined her. It was just that she should have wanted him. He was the single best male dancer at the school—Androv aside, since Androv was unable to dance professionally anymore. Everyone knew it—or, at least, they had known it before.

The slur on his reputation was going to hurt, even though he knew it shouldn’t matter. Worse was the fact that Katarina, who he had given so much, didn’t even want him.

She closed the distance between them and hugged him instinctively, the way she would have if it had been Michael upset over a girl’s rejection—in his case, a girl that he had wanted to date. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “If she doesn’t want you, I’ll keep you.” It wasn’t until the words were out that she realized just how much she meant it. Michael would always be her best friend; but right now, he seemed very far away. If she had to make a choice between the two of them, she realized suddenly, she would choose Nick.

Nick’s arms came up, and he hugged her back with a desperation that surprised both of them. “God bless, Danni,” he told her quietly.

“You’re a great partner,” she pointed out gently. “And I love dancing with you. If Katarina is stupid enough to give that up, then I’m more than willing to take her discards.”

He buried his face in her hair, and she could practically feel him drinking in her gentle words. It was probably, she thought, the first time he’d had a partner compliment him in a long time. She let him hold her until his trembling stilled—until she was sure that he’d gotten his balance back under him again. “Come on, Nicholas,” she said quietly. “I’m sure Allie is waiting for you.”

“I’m not sure I care.” But he let her go, if reluctantly. “Thank you,” he told her seriously. “For just…all of it. Looking out for me, and not believing that crap Kat is spewing, and…well, for everything.”

“That’s what partners are for,” she pointed out gently. “At least, that’s the way I always understood it.”

“It’s the way partners are supposed to be,” he corrected, his voice as careful as hers. “Around here, it’s just not always the case.”

Danni knew that. She had just been trying very hard not to admit it to herself. “Then that’s the kind of partners you and I are going to be,” she informed him seriously. “And that’s the important part, right?”

“Definitely.” He squeezed her fingers. “Come wait in the wings and watch? I know you’re not needed yet, but I’ll feel better with you out there.”

“Of course.” She followed him without even thinking about it. She was ready to go; it wasn’t as though there was anything she needed that she could get in the dressing room, and anyway, she hadn’t had a chance to watch him dance with Clara.

As he waited for his opportunity, Nicholas perched on a box at Danni’s side. They didn’t hold hands; there was no romantic expression between them—but they were pressed very close together, the line of his body perfectly following the line of hers.

When Nick stepped out on stage, he was tentative. He had worked this again and again over the last few weeks; but with Katarina’s words ringing in his ears, it was all he could do to complete the familiar steps.

Then Danni joined him. One touch of her gentle hand in his, and every worry he’d had, every fear he’d given in to, melted away as though they had never been. Immediately, he was pulled back into the music, giving way to the song and the dance.

Thank you, Lord, he prayed silently. She is more than I deserve—and she’s a reminder. Bowing his head for just an instant, he let go of everything. There was no pain, no upset, no worry; Nicholas simply danced for God.

Danni could feel the shift in him. She made a similar one in response, both of them giving up everything they had and simply pouring their hearts into the dance.

They were trembling as those final notes faded, as the curtain came down—not from exertion, but from the sheer power of the Holy Spirit as it had washed over them.

“Bless you, Danni,” Nick breathed.

“It’s not just me out there,” she whispered back.

The ballet passed in a whirl. Before they knew it, Nick was escorting her to the front of the stage to take her bow—something which Androv insisted that they practice, so that no one would trip over anyone else on the night itself. There was almost no one in the audience now, of course—just their teachers.

Their teachers…and Katarina.

Danni sucked in a breath and hoped that Nick didn’t notice her. She was absolutely livid, glaring at them both as though they had committed some great sin.

“Bravo, Nicholas. Brava, Danni.” Androv stepped forward out of the wings, breaking Danni away from Katarina’s gaze. “I believe you are the best Sugar Plum Fairy I have ever seen—and Nicholas, you make her a wonderful prince.”

Danni glowed—but even then, in the back of her mind, she was conscious of Katarina’s rising fury. The other girl wasn’t going to like the fact that she was being complimented at all, especially not for the role that should have been hers.

“I had a good teacher,” she demurred quietly, exactly as she had before, when Mlle Kirby had seen her dance with Nick for the first time.

She had the feeling that her own modesty wasn’t going to help Katarina in the slightest.

“You’ve worked hard,” Androv corrected firmly. “Trust me when I say that hard work has not gone unnoticed. You’ve done a wonderful job, Danni—and I’m glad you were on hand to take over when Katarina was injured.”

Both Danni and Nick tensed at the same moment. Don’t remind her! But both of them knew it wouldn’t matter anyway. Katarina’s fury wasn’t going to ease in the slightest regardless of what was said now.

“She’s not happy,” Danni murmured to Nick as they made their way backstage again.

“No, she’s not.” He didn’t look at her as he said it, not wanting her to see the worry in his eyes. Katarina in this mood could be vindictive—and even though he knew there was nothing he could do about it one way or the other, he prayed that her fury wouldn’t focus on Danni. All Danni had done was show up; he was the one who had betrayed her.

Katarina probably wouldn’t see it that way.

He spent the night worrying about all of the nasty things that she might do to Danni. He didn’t think she would resort to destroying the costume—that would be childish—but Danni’s pointe shoes might be fair game. It would be next to impossible for her to dance a full ballet in brand new pointe shoes. Or she could figure out that they’d been holding back some of the work they were doing together, turning it in a little at a time to make up for the days when they didn’t have as much time to work. He could see her doing something to destroy all of Danni’s hard work.

Thankfully, he still had his own copies. They could handle that, especially if they went to their teachers and explained what had happened. At this point, it almost certainly wasn’t a secret that he and Danni were doing all of their homework together.

What Katarina really did was worse than anything Nicholas might have imagined—or at least it felt that way. By Monday morning, there wasn’t a single student at the Academy who would speak to him unless they absolutely had to.

They were out of their academic classes—essentially on Christmas break, though since they were all so focused on the ballet, it wasn’t really a break as such. Nicholas had planned to spend the day with Danni; but before he could head over to her house—the moment he set foot out the door of his own, as a matter of fact—he was seized by a furious-looking Allie.

“Come on,” she told him sharply. “You were off count yesterday. We’re going to practice.”

She didn’t give him a chance to protest. Actually, she very forcefully didn’t give him a chance to do anything all morning. They went through the dance until both of them were sweat-drenched and tired.

“Allie—“ Nicholas winced. So far, he had managed to avoid telling the girl about his shoulder, sure that she would just use it against him; but he was fast approaching a point where he was going to have to. They had a performance that night. A little last-minute practice wasn’t a bad thing, but if it went on for much longer, he was going to end up seriously getting hurt.

“What?” She stopped, hands on her hips, and glowered at him. “You aren’t about to tell me that you want to quit, are you? Because you’re the one who keeps screwing up.”

Nick gritted his teeth. “I—“ he began.

“Do it again, Nicholas!” Allie stormed back to her starting place. “Katarina said you’d be difficult. I should have listened to her.”

He set his jaw and kept his mouth shut. What good would it do him to tell her the truth now? Probably it would just make her angrier with him, and then they’d have to go through this thing again. He concentrated instead on giving her a technically perfect performance. He was exactly on time for every movement. He didn’t wobble so much as a single time. At the end of it, he was sure that there was nothing she could possibly complain about.

“You’ve moved that last grand jeté,” she whined. “You started it early every other time. If you change it now, my timing is going to be off.”

Nick’s hands tightened at his sides. He had never in his life hit anyone, but he had a decided urge to do so now. “Allie, I can’t do it again,” he said flatly. “Not if I want to perform tonight.”

“Oh, please. If I can do it, you can,” she sneered. “What are you complaining about?”

“You spend most of the ballet on that throne,” he reminded her patiently. “I dance a lot more of it than you do. And besides—“ He sighed. He was going to have to tell her. It was either that, or his shoulder was going to absolutely fall off before she let him go. “I’m sure Katarina mentioned the fact that I hurt my shoulder a few weeks ago.”

“Well, it sure wasn’t bothering you all last week, when you were dancing with Danni every time I wanted to practice.” Allie rolled her eyes. “One more time, Nick. You can manage that much.”

No, he really couldn’t. He knew it. The ache in his shoulder was a warning; and it would start throbbing in earnest if he slowed down long enough to let it get to him.

But it was stronger now. He had taken enough time off that it probably wouldn’t hurt him overmuch to push a little bit more today…right?

“Katarina said you were a wimp,” Allie muttered. “A little bit of pain, and suddenly, you can’t even dance a simple little pas de deux. If I didn’t know any better—“

“Enough.” He moved back to his mark, grinding his teeth so hard that he expected one of them to break. “Just dance.”

It was late that afternoon by the time he finally went to find Danni—who took one look at him and gasped.

“Nick! What have you been doing?” she demanded worriedly.

“Dancing.” He was massaging his bad shoulder, but it wasn’t helping. Actually, he was pretty sure that the pressure of his fingers was only increasing the pain.

“You look like someone dragged you through the wringer!”

“I’m glad someone besides me has trouble finding the distinction,” he muttered.

“Who?” There was a terrible anger in Danni’s warm brown eyes.

“Who do you think?” he snapped back before he thought about it.

Danni didn’t even have to consider it. “Allie.” She shook her head. “I thought we had managed to get around her.”

“She wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Nick explained bitterly.

“You didn’t consider explaining to her that you’d hurt your shoulder, so you couldn’t handle spending the entire morning going through your dance together?” she demanded.

“Did I mention the refusal to accept the word no?” He knew his temper was too sharp, and he was treating Danni to some of those edges. It wasn’t intentional; he just didn’t have any self-control left.

Please, Lord, just let her forgive me when this is all said and done. It’s going to be a miserable night if I’m fighting with both Allie and Danni.

She looked deep into his eyes for a moment, and Nick had the uncomfortable feeling that she saw not only the pain but the desperate longing, as well. “Come on,” Danni said gently. “We’ll get that shoulder iced and start praying that you’ll be functional tonight.”

“You believe in wishful thinking, huh?” he demanded irritably.

“No—I believe in the power of prayer.” Danni slipped her hand into his, squeezing reassuringly. “Your place, or mine?”

“Is Kat at yours?” He regretted the words the moment they were out. How was Danni supposed to know whether or not Katarina was home?

“Probably. We’ll head to your place.” She kept his hand in hers as they walked there, a gentle reassurance that reminded him that even though he was hurting now, everything would be all right.

They had two hours before they had to report to the theater to get dressed, and Danni insisted that Nick spend all of them resting. She would have appreciated one last run-through; but looking at him now, she didn’t even suggest it.

It wasn’t possible that Allie had missed his increasing pallor, that she hadn’t seen how hard he was fighting to keep from flinching every time he moved his arm. She could be dense all she wanted to be, but she wasn’t stupid.

That meant that she’d had her own reasons for pushing him anyway—and Danni had the sneaking suspicion that those reasons had a great deal to do with Katarina. Determined to ruin the dance any way she could, she had gone to Allie—who, as far as she could tell, had once been a friend of hers—and begged her to keep him busy for the morning. She’d willingly hurt Nick as a jab against her—or maybe a jab against both of them.

Danni’s jaw tightened. Katarina could insult her all she wanted. She would even hold her silence while the other girl ran Nick’s reputation into the ground, because the best defense they as Christians had was to keep quiet even when someone was being nasty to them.

She couldn’t just keep quiet while Katarina did something that would get Nick hurt.

Of course, even as she worked herself up into a righteous fury, Danni didn’t know the half of it. Katarina hadn’t just asked Allie to keep Nick busy. She’d asked her to keep him busy—and then she had “warned” her that if he didn’t want to keep up the practice session, he would start complaining about some ailment or another.

“His shoulder doesn’t really bother him as much as he claims it does,” she’d told the other girl—in absolute confidence, of course. “Push him. You’ll see: one way or the other, he’ll manage to do it even after he insists that there’s no way.”

And Allie had believed it. Worse—she had eaten up every word of it. It had been bad enough that Nick had closeted himself away with Danni over the past several days. That had been insulting, as far as Allie was concerned. He spent a lot of time scooping her up and swinging her around; and the fact that she hadn’t been able to practice with him for an entire week had infuriated her.

Nick piled his pillows into the familiar configuration and eased down on the bed. Danni had headed for the kitchen, instructing him to relax while she alerted his house mother that she was there and grabbed his ice pack. It gave him a few minutes alone—and prevented her from seeing just how much he was cringing as he shifted into position on the pillows.

This was comfortable. He had done this a hundred times, and once he had his shoulder supported, the pain started to ease.

Please, Lord, let the pain start to ease. I can’t afford to hurt this much today—not today. Not the day of the performance. Please….

It would have been more reassuring if it wasn’t his own stupid fault. He’d been stubborn, forcing himself through the motions of the dance even though he had known full well that he wasn’t up to it. He knew better. If he had just walked out, Allie might have had some nasty things to say, but she wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

He’d ignored his body’s warnings. He had ignored weeks of experience with this particular injury, not to mention the certain knowledge that if he pushed himself too far, he was going to end up in too much pain to perform that night.

I was stupid, Lord, and now I’m paying for it. I know I deserve it. Just…let me be able to dance. That was the only thing he could pray. He knew the pain wasn’t going to abate enough by the time he was due to report. It was just a matter of whether or not he was going to be able to perform.

He had to be able to perform.

Danni came in with the ice pack, carefully settling it around his shoulder for him so that he wouldn’t have to move. She was very gentle as she eased down on the bed beside him, slipping her fingers into his. “How’re you feeling?” she asked quietly.

As if she didn’t already know. His face usually gave it away long before she asked the question. “I’ll make it,” he told her determinedly—which, now that he thought about it, was probably what she was really asking. “I’m not going to let this stop me from dancing tonight.”

Danni didn’t correct him—didn’t point out that that hadn’t been what she was asking. She knew that the important part was that he was able to dance, just as much as he did. They were professionals—or at least well on their way to getting there. That meant that when the time came to dance, they danced. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked cautiously.

Nick closed his eyes. “Stay with me?” He hated to make the request. There were probably a hundred different things Danni would rather be doing that particular afternoon—but he didn’t want to be alone.

More than didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Danni with him.

“Of course.” She squeezed his hand, slid a little bit closer to him so that her body was pressed along the line of his again. “Just try to relax. You’ll be all right.”

“Come here.” He slid his arm around her, coaxing her to lean down with her head on his good shoulder. “Do you have any idea how much you help just by being here?”

“As much as it’s helped me to have you with me?” she wanted to know.

“Something like that.” He rested his cheek on top of her hair and sighed, some of the tension finally flowing out of him. “Thanks, Danni.”

“What are partners for?” she reminded him.

He smiled. They sat in silence for several minutes, and then he asked, “Your parents coming in tonight?”

“No.” That had been the greatest disappointment of all. Her father had to work the next day, and if they came up for her performance, they wouldn’t get back in time for him to sleep at all. All of them had offered their regrets, but there was, they’d insisted, nothing they could do about it.

“That’s lousy.” Nick cuddled her a little bit closer. “I was hoping to meet them.”

“I’d like to introduce you, too,” she agreed.

He hesitated; but if he didn’t talk about something, he was going to go crazy, testing his shoulder every five seconds to see if he’d managed to get rid of some of the pain yet. “And Michael?”

Danni smiled sadly. “Dancing in The Nutcracker at home—and probably missing me rather furiously right about now.”

He checked the clock on the bedside table—a rather odd time for a performance. “Why now?” he wanted to know.

“Because I’m the one who always made sure we had everything we needed,” she replied immediately. “And he’s probably going crazy trying to decide how many of the things I threw in that bag were necessary and how many of them just lived there all the time.”

“Right.” Nick raised an eyebrow. “How many of them just lived there?”

“Have you seen my dance bag?” she replied.

“I haven’t gone through it.” Any other time, all he would’ve had to do was look in it. Normally, when she was in his room, the bag was tossed into a corner, just as his ended up there when he was in hers. Generally, one was on top of the other—the one on the bottom depending on whose room they were in. On this particular day, however, Danni didn’t have hers with her.

It was odd how strange he considered that, Nick thought.

“I carry more junk than is absolutely necessary—but all of it comes in handy every once in awhile.” She grinned. “I bet he forgets the camera.”

“Camera?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a ritual, see: we always take pictures backstage right before the performance. Our parents jump up and get them later; but we want our own before we end up all mussed and everything.”

“Ah.” Nick nodded, pretending to understand. Nearly every dancer he knew had some sort of pre-performance ritual; the pictures were one that Danni and Michael had shared. “So, are you going to get pictures of us tonight?”

“Of course!” She grinned. “I’ll send them to Michael and guilt him for not having backstage pictures to send back to me.”

“Well of course.” He shook his head. “What would The Nutcracker be without a good case of guilt?”

“He won’t feel that guilty,” Danni informed him.

That warning was more important than he’d initially thought, he realized suddenly, several seconds later. He’d thought it was an absent comment—and maybe it had been—but it was more than that, too. Danni would never do anything that might hurt Michael—not even sending him on a guilt trip over forgetting a silly ritual. If she had been worried, even for a moment, that it would really bother him, she wouldn’t have done it.

Just like she would never do anything that would really bother him.

Nick’s arm tightened around her shoulders, and he drew her a little bit closer to him. Lord, I really struck gold with this one, he prayed silently. Just…help me keep her, okay? Let me be good enough for her. I know I wasn’t good enough for Kat…but I think Danni might like me, at least a little.