In the Air (5 page)

"Whatever makes you happy, dude." I patted him on the back and stood up to grab another drink from the bar.

As the night went on, my buzz grew stronger. Jay finally got his ass back to his own party and he, Wren, and I took some much-needed shots. The blur of the day's events faded, and I was well on my way to feeling numb.

"Wren, who you banging these days?" Jay asked loudly over the music. He was never the kind of guy that held his tongue, and it had gotten the three of us in a ton of trouble throughout high school.

"Really, Jay? Stop worrying about Wren's sex life. You should be more concerned with getting yourself checked out for STDs. These random girls you fuck are bound to have something," I retorted.

"Remember that one time," Wren began but stopped mid-sentence, laughing hysterically, "Jay's mom had to call him out of school because he found out he had gotten chlamydia? That shit was disgusting."

"You're both douchebags. I knew I shouldn't have told either one of you." Jay grabbed the whiskey glass from my hands and drained the last of it before handing it back to me.

"If it weren't for us, the entire school would have found out about your little excursion with that stripper." I remembered how hard it was for Wren and me to keep Jay's
condition
under wraps. Every time someone would ask where he was, we laughed and tried to convince them Jay had caught some kind of bug. What we didn't say was that it was the love bug that nipped Jay.

"You're a dickhead." Jay pushed against Wren's chest, causing him to fall back against the table. "So are you," he slurred while trying to shove me. I dodged him just in time. "Dude, didn't you mention something about leaving by midnight?" Jay studied his watch. "You're gonna be a fucking wreck in the morning."

I looked down at my watch and saw that it was almost one. "Fuck! Why did you have to pull out the Patron? This is all your fault." I shoved the empty glass back into Jay's unsuspecting hands and heard it shatter on the ground as I walked to the front door. "See you later, assholes," I called out.

"Don't worry, Twinkletoes," Jay shouted after me, "your fancy ass knows how to nurse a hangover." I hated the nicknames he felt he had to give me. Ever since he found out I wasn't playing baseball anymore and started taking ballet lessons instead, he'd come up with an assortment of nicknames, his favorite being Twinkletoes. Wren, being Wren, never followed along with the nicknames.

As I stumbled onto the elevator, my pocket began to vibrate. The only person who would call me this late was Aubrey.

"Here we go again. I shouldn't even answer your fucking calls," I said while looking at the display on my phone.
Why am I talking to myself in an elevator? I had way too much to drink tonight
. I pushed the button to answer and put it to my ear.

"Hi, Baby," I mumbled, "I was just getting ready to call you."

"Don't lie to me, Sam. Where have you been all night? I was expecting your call hours ago."
Does she ever stop with her incessant whining?

"Aubrey? What did you say? I can't understand you. My phone's breaking up ... hello?" I pressed the end button, turned it off, and shoved it back into my pocket. I didn't want to deal with her shit yet; I had a great buzz going and she was bound to ruin my high.

The cab dropped me off in front of the dorms and I saw Natalia standing near the building with the same friend from earlier. When I saw her this morning, I needed a reason to meet her. The only one I could come up with was pretending to think she was a part of
Big Brothers, Big Sisters
. When she told me she went to Juilliard, I was excited. Without thinking, I'd replied with harsh words. It wasn't as if I doubted she could go here. I was more elated to know I'd be attending the same school as the beautiful girl whose face was filled with so much passion. I'd forgotten what that looked like until I saw it on her face.

Having been drinking for most of the night, I knew that if Natalia said the wrong thing, I would probably go off on her. As I tried to get up to my room without a confrontation, I heard the familiar name being called my way.

"You've got to be kidding me. My name is not Toby!" I swung myself in the direction of the girls so that they could see that I wasn't in the mood for their antics.

"Chill out, dude. It was a joke." The girl that was talking had some serious fashion issues. It looked like she had walked into the closet of a prostitute, closed her eyes, and grabbed the first thing her hand touched. Ignoring her, I glared at Natalia.

"We meet again, Dorothy."

She glared at me. "That's not my–"

"I could have sworn you said you were from Kansas." I replied as I stumbled and fell into Natalia. She put her arms out just in time to keep us both from ending up on the ground.

"Illinois, not Kansas. You are aware that those are two different states, right?" Natalia asked condescendingly.

"I may be drunk, but I've never been stupid." I started chuckling at my cleverness. I really needed to lie down before I passed out right here on this dirty sidewalk. "It was nice talking to you, Kansas. Girl-Who-Doesn't-Know-How-To-Dress, we'll meet again." I climbed the stairs slowly, hoping I would remember which room I lived in.

Stepping into my dorm room made me miss my spacious bedroom back home. The plus side to this place was that my father couldn't barge in whenever he felt the need. My roommate wasn't there, so I undressed freely and lay across the bed. I dialed Aubrey's number and with each ring, I knew she was looking at her screen, debating whether or not she wanted to answer.

"What do you want, Samson?" She sighed loudly into the phone, trying her hardest to disguise her pain. Hurting Aubrey was never my intention. My heart had been playing a game of tug of war. One minute, happiness was winning, spreading through my body, knowing I was lucky enough to have her in my life. The next minute, I was treading the mud and rocks, working hard to keep my footing and not fall off the cliff.

"Do you remember when we used to go to my tree house late at night? We would get in so much trouble being out past dark. Our parents would come running out to the yard, yelling for us. They always knew we were up there, hiding from the world." A smile crept on my lips as I stretched my legs out on the mattress.

"You wouldn't ever let me go when I needed to. You'd always convince me that we needed to spend five more minutes together, even though we had just spent the entire day with each other." Aubrey's voice lightened up and I knew she was smiling. "You always made those last five minutes worth all of the groundings."

"You definitely made it worthwhile, too," I said. For a moment, all I wanted to do was pack my bags and go home to be with her, but this side of Aubrey wouldn't last long. Silence filled the air and I knew she was waiting for me to speak again. "I wish you were here, lying next to me." My arm brushed the empty space of the bed and I longed for her warm body to fill it.

"I wish you were home," Aubrey said quietly.

I thought back to being in the tree house with Aubrey. We'd lie next to each other on our backs and discuss our future together. She'd tell me all about her dream wedding and I'd listen, noting all the things she wanted. I was determined to make her dreams come true. But then she changed. I changed. We changed. Now, the only thing I wanted was to feel whole again, with or without her.

"You're never going be okay with me living here, are you?" I asked her. I already knew the answer. If it had nothing to do with Aubrey, she'd never accept it.

"It's not that, Samson. I just wish you could have found a school closer to me."
Just as I thought.

"Juilliard has always been my dream. You knew that."

"Right. Looks like all your dreams came true then." Aubrey's words cut deep, making me feel like I'd done something wrong. I needed to change the subject.

"I went to Jay's tonight and hung out with him and Wren. It was good seeing those guys."

"Good for you. You don't have to tell me that you're wasted because I'm well aware of that fact. Did any girls give you their phone numbers?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not wasted," I lied. "No girls gave me their phone numbers. I wouldn't have taken them even if they had tried." I turned over in bed, waiting for Aubrey to reply. When she didn't say anything, I continued, "Tell me about your day. How were classes?"

As I adjusted my position in bed, my thoughts drifted to Natalia. As uptight as she seemed, I couldn't help but think of her long, lean legs as she did a pirouette. I found myself thinking of her face. Doll-like features cradled by long blonde hair. It wasn't just her looks that immediately drew me in. She was beautiful, though. Her blonde hair pulled back, accentuating her brown eyes and pale skin. It was mostly Natalia's feistiness that grabbed my attention. She put me in my place, and that was a huge turn-on. Fuck. I was getting hard thinking about someone else while my girlfriend was still on the line.

"Samson? Did you hear what I just said?"

Steering my mind back to reality, I forced out thoughts of Natalia. "I think I'm gonna get some sleep, Doll, I mean, Baby." I corrected my slip-up as quickly as I could.

"You've never called me
Doll
. Must be a nickname for one of your other girlfriends. Have a nice night, Samson." Aubrey hung up on me. Again.

I had no clue why Natalia appeared in my thoughts, but I did know there was something special about her. I didn't want to sleep, knowing the walls would only spin if I did. I jumped out of bed and quickly changed into a pair of mesh gym shorts. I knew the only way to untie these knots in my gut was to dance.

When I saw Samson earlier tonight, that irritated feeling I'd gotten from him in class returned, and was compounded when he called me Dorothy.
Calling me by the wrong name. He really needs to get his own material.
I realized he was drunk, which makes everyone more loose-tongued, but at that moment his dick meter was registering off the charts.

I decided to blow off some steam and head down to the studio. Dancing was my favorite way to relieve tension. When I lost my dad, I spent almost every night in the studio. My mother was a complete wreck, and since she wasn't able to control losing her husband, she worked harder to control me. To avoid her as much as I could, I became accustomed to practicing late at night.

Kingsley had gone out and said not to expect her until morning. The only reason anyone usually went out past 1 A.M. was for a booty call. Throwing on a pair of black leggings and my favorite Rolling Stones T-shirt, I grabbed my gym bag and headed to the elevator.

When I entered the studio, I switched on the back lighting, keeping the harsh, overhead lights off. The large window in the back of the room caught my eye and I was curious to see the view. New York City all lit up was breathtaking. Even at 3 A.M., the traffic was still insane. It truly was 'the city that never sleeps.' For the next few minutes, I watched all of the cars drive through the streets and I found myself lost in the stillness of the room.

I heard a door open and quickly hid behind a nearby curtain in the back of the room, afraid of getting caught by a teacher. I peeked out, curious to see who had come in.

"Oh my god. Samson?" I whispered to myself, not wanting to give away my presence.

He threw his bag down to the floor and walked to the stereo. A beautiful song began playing, chasing the silence from the room. Samson sat on the ground and began to stretch. His towering frame cast a shadow across the wooden floor. He was good-looking. That was undeniable. Well-defined muscles accented every part of his body. The sleeves of his grey T-shirt were tight around his biceps. I imagined him lifting me effortlessly from the ground, holding me in the air. I immediately pushed out the pleasant thoughts that were starting to brew in my mind. As good-looking as he was, his ego was hideous.

When he began dancing, I noticed the same carefree attitude that showed during his solo return. It's like the ego he tried so hard to portray melted away, and what was left was his true self. Seeing him dance, without any inhibitions, had my body yearning to be close to his. The hauntingly beautiful song continued to play and his moves became more forceful. As he leapt into the air, his Triple Saut de Basque was dead on. Coming down on his left knee, he glanced to the back of the room. I quickly pulled back, trying to hide from view. As I waited, hoping Samson hadn't discovered me, I thought about the dancing I'd just seen. He made ballet look easy.