She was a ballerina, wound as tight as the corset in her costumes. He was a hockey player determined to make a friend out of someone who didn't want any. She was willing to entertain the idea. But only because he wiggled his way past her defenses to...
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We stared at each other intensely and I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was it. Loren was going to kiss me.
"Oh my god, you're Loren Whitaker!"
Loren and I jumped apart at the voice and I stuck my hands out to reach for the wall of the rink to keep from falling. I eyed the source of the voice angrily, watching the middle aged man fawn over Loren.
"I've been following your career for years, man. Honey, look who it is!" He gestured to his wife, who politely played along, taking a picture of the two together before they continued skating.
"Sorry about that." Loren apologized, approaching me. "I don't usually get noticed by fans. Anyway," he trailed off watching me closely, though we both knew whatever moment we had just shared was lost.
"We should probably head out of here." I spoke, my voice sounding foreign. "Before I actually fall and hurt myself. Plus, Rebecca's probably waiting for you."
At the mention of his girlfriend, a look flashed through Loren's eyes and he nodded. "Yeah, she said she might come over tonight. I should get home."
We returned our skates and I grabbed my bag from the locker, waiting for Loren to finish tying his shoes before we left. We walked in silence to the station and hugged briefly, Loren's train arriving first. When I got onto my own train, I sat stoically, thinking about what had just happened.
I loved Loren.
I'd known it for some time but in an effort to keep that distinction between friends, I pushed the thought away, but seeing him that closely, feeling his arms around my body...it was confirmation. I had it bad.
When I got home, I crawled into bed and tried to sleep, though it was sporadic and restless. The next day, I was tired all through class but sneaked a nap in my dressing room before the show. The second night seemed to go as well as the first, though I didn't hear any excessive cheering, thank god.
My schedule returned to a normal state of class, rehearsal, and shows on my nights, and every so often, I saw Loren. We would go to lunch twice a week, and the rest of the time, I didn't dare ask where he was for fear of him saying he was out with Rebecca. While I found her annoying, I knew she hadn't done anything to deserve my rudeness, so I kept my comments to myself and just enjoyed my time out with Loren. Part of me thought he enjoyed it too, but I could never quite tell. Call it doubt or mixed signals, but it was never clear to me whether or not Loren actually liked me back.
The night we went skating became like a dream, and occasionally, I wondered if it had even happened. Had that been the sign of something more than friendship? Had it been a fluke? Loren never told me and I never asked, and we certainly didn't have any almost-kisses again.
Within two weeks, there were auditions for Giselle, our first show of the Winter season. I of course auditioned for Giselle, and after I completed the audition, the little smirk on Stefano's face had me fearing his reaction, but also brought a sense of certainty. Maybe I had broken out of my "first time as principal for this show" rut. Or maybe not; the mixed signals all around me were throwing me off.
