- -
She heard the distinctive click of the receiver being picked up.
"Magic Johnson speaking."
"Shut up, Bright. Where's Dad?" Amy said into the phone.
"He's with John Elway."
Amy rolled her eyes. "Bright. He told me to call when I landed."
"Are your wings tired?"
"Okay, so I take it he's not there?"
"It was just a question."
"Why are you in Dad's house? Go home! With Mr. 'I'm Not in the Right Place to
Date' Reid," said Amy, resigned to being snotty around her brother.
Bright's mouth was full as he talked. "Dad has all the food. We've got
nothing but ketchup."
"You're a thief."
"I'm a good one."
Amy rolled her eyes again, and hung up the pay phone. She would call her
father from the dorm. Picking up her carry-on bag, she looked around her and
started toward baggage claim. It was crowded. Why so many people had chosen to
settle in this place, New York, was beyond her. But they had, and here she was.
She found the luggage carousel where her bags would be. The two bags were
huge and heavy, and she did not look forward to lugging them around. She looked
at all the bags that passed her by. Fancy luggage, in blue, in black, tasteful
colors. An old woman hefted a large red bag from the carousel, and nearly
collapsed from the effort. Amy thought to hurry over, but she wouldn't be any
help. She was even slighter than the old woman. Though she was strong, she was a
dancer, after all. She began to head over there, but as she was turning, one of
her bags showed up.
Amy reached and lifted the bag from the traveling carousel. It seemed even
heavier than it had been when she had loaded it up in Denver. Deep breath in,
deep breath out, and she clutched it tightly, taking it off the carousel and
then slamming it onto the ground. As her other bag came rolling by, she groaned.
Only a few minutes in the city, and already she was overwhelmed.
"You could just ask for help, you know," said a boy, stepping up suddenly
beside her.
"I can do it," Amy insisted, grabbing the second bag and pulling it towards
her. She teetered off balance, and was swiftly caught by the boy. She looked
into his dark eyes. The mysterious stranger looked back into hers. "Okay, so
maybe I need a little help," she admitted, hating to appear a damsel in
distress.
The boy smirked, and righted Amy onto her feet. He pointed beside him at a
luggage cart. "We big city folk use these to get around without snapping our
arms off." He loaded her two bags onto it, as well as her carry-on bag.
"How do you know I'm not big city folk?" she asked defensively.
He glanced at her, and then began rearranging her luggage. He seemed shy. "Dunno.
Just a look in your eyes. You seem too innocent to be one of us."
"I'm not innocent." She was still defensive. "I've seen things." She couldn't
help but to think of such things now. She thought of her mother's face, her
smile, her hands that so easily could pull little Amy into a hug. She thought of
her in more recent times, when she resembled a ghost.
"Right. Well, I didn't mean... You just don't look like a New Yorker is all."
Amy sighed, relaxed, and smiled. "So what's my initiation? Do I get mugged
before I reach the street?"
"That's up to you." The boy was gorgeous, with his deep-throated voice, and
those sparkling eyes. "Don't look so unassuming. Right now, you're just asking
for trouble."
"Okay, so I have to assume I'm going to get mugged?" Amy teased.
"Now you're thinking like a New Yorker."
A small girl with the same brown hair as the handsome stranger came running
up and grabbed his hand. "Come on, Ephram!" she said, tugging on his hand.
"Dad's plane landed!"
"I'll alert the authorities," he said blandly.
"Ephram," Amy mused aloud. "...I like that name."
"Oh, good, do you want it?" Ephram asked, slightly distracted by his sister.
Amy laughed. The brunette girl looked up at her, with eyes so big and wide.
Now that was an innocent face. That was the kind that would get mugged.
"Is this your sister?" Amy asked instead of answering.
"Hi, yeah, I'm Delia," said the girl, rushed, her cheeks pink from running.
"Come on, Ephram. Dad wants to see you."
"How do you know that if he just landed?"
"Because he always wants to see you. Come on."
"He never wants to see me," Ephram insisted bitterly, unable to force a smile
any longer.
Amy looked to Delia. "I have a big brother, too."
"Oh, then you understand," Delia suggested.
"Completely."
Delia started pulling Ephram away, and Amy, trying to regain a regular
heartbeat, watched in anticipation of him leaving, another event to mar her
life. There was something about him... She wanted him to stay.
"I -- I guess I'll see you..." said Ephram hurriedly, "around. Or, you know,
not, since the city's so big, but..."
Amy sighed, her heart troubled. "Oh -- okay. Um, thanks for the help with,
you know, the luggage, and the mugging... or I mean, the warning of the
mugging... Unless you do it, as well..."
Ephram swallowed, looking at her face. His chest hurt. And before he had the
chance to summon up a nice goodbye, Delia had pulled him into the crowd of
passengers looking to find their way.
As Ephram and his little sister disappeared into the crowd, Amy sighed and
began lugging her carrier towards the exit, where she hoped to hail a cab to get
to the dorms. People in New York, that was what they did, right? She could
remember the last time she was here, for the audition, and her father waving his
arms around, flapping like a bird in the street. How cabs passed him by, the
cabbies wearing strained expressions at his enthusiasm. New Yorkers didn't care.
It wasn't new and exciting to them. Maybe nothing was...
When she got past the automatic moving doors, and stepped outside into the
hot summer afternoon, she was grabbed at the elbow by a man in his thirties, who
hustled her and her luggage along toward the curb. "Need a cab, honey? I'll get
you one."
"Thanks -- " But before she could even really get it out, a cab was hailed,
and she was shoved in the back seat. Then the guy went around to the trunk to
load up her bags. It was like Jonah's New York journey in 'Sleepless in
Seattle'. Without the man yelling at the cabby to stick closer to the curb. And
then they were off.
"Where you going, doll?" asked the cabby as they circled the huge parking lot
on their way out.
"Julliard."
The cabby grunted in response, and set to work to get her there.
Amy sat back in her seat, fluffing her hair that no longer reached her
shoulders. She thought of Ephram, with those eyes, and that voice... Like an
angel, he had descended on her for the briefest of moments, leaving, a handsome
stranger, igniting Amy's excitement for this city, this place that she had
dreamed of for a year. With a start like Ephram, it couldn't be that bad, could
it? Not with angels to look out for you.
--
When they arrived at Julliard, it was just as she remembered it. Huge.
Massive. Important.
The cabby brought her bags, trailing behind her for an extra tip, as Amy
sought out her dorm room. When she found it, she entered to find a spacious
common room, with plush white couches and a study desk over in the corner. From
there, she walked toward one of the bedrooms, knocking before stepping in.
"Oh, so you're the last one," said a tall girl with red hair and freckles
peppered about her face. "I'm Tracy. You'll share this room with me. I hope you
don't have too much stuff..." She looked to the cabby, who gratefully set down
two of Amy's bags, while she set down her small carry-on. "'Cause I've got a
lot."
"Um, well, just these three bags, for now," Amy informed her. "It's nice to
meet you."
She turned around and paid the cabby, asking if what she gave was an
admirable tip. The smile on the cabby's face told her as much, and he left. Amy
looked to Tracy, and smiled. A new life, starting now.
--
That first night, after orientation, Amy lay in bed with the lights off,
hearing Tracy's faint snoring in the bed at the opposite side of the room. She
thought of her mom, radiant and beautiful, and then tapering off, losing
strength, losing the will to live. She thought of her dad, flamboyant and
insistent that everything would be "just fine". He didn't know Amy had seen him
crumble, didn't know that she had stood just beyond the kitchen doorway,
watching him break down and cry.
She thought of Bright, and rolled her eyes. It would be nice to be free of
him for a while. At least until the holidays, she hoped. They had the typical
big brother, little sister relationship. A lot of, "Quit hogging the potatoes!"
and "Get out of my room!" She couldn't count how many times in her younger years
she had yelled out, "I'm telling!" And Mom was always there to tell. Though she
rarely punished Bright with more than a, "Don't bait your sister, dear."
"One day, I'll be taller than you," Amy would tell him. "And I'll be strong,
like an Amazon. And I'll step on you when you get in my way!"
"Ooh," Bright would say with a whistle. "I'm so scared, I think I'll sit here
and not run away."
Amy would kick him, with her dancer's legs, and then it would be his turn to
tell.
Big brothers, sheesh. Who needed them? Who wanted one? They could certainly
have hers.
Some time later, as her mind focused on the handsome Ephram from the airport,
Amy finally fell asleep, in her first night away from home and everything she'd
ever known.
--
Classes were hard, though interesting. Dancing wore Amy out. Her instructor,
Madame Holoff, made it her purpose to run her dancers ragged. On the first day,
she gave an intimidating speech.
"You might have been the big bang in your last dance class. You may have been
told you're special. You may have received thunderous applause, in your small
towns, on your small stages. This is Julliard. Things are tough. You'll
have to work hard to get anywhere, and you still might get nowhere at that. I'll
be assessing your talent, and I'll be honest, in all things, in all ways. Expect
no cuddling from me. I am here not to flatter, but to make you better dancers.
To make you into the best athletes you can be... Welcome to Julliard."
They were paired off to dance with one other dancer, and improve one another
through feedback and mirroring -- doing the same steps at the same time. Madame
said it would help to stay in sync with the music if you could stay in sync with
someone else.
Amy was paired with Julian, a strong, supple blonde boy who had legs and
arms, and a six-pack to die for. She was not intimidated by his good looks. She
had seen a hundred boys in her time who looked just as handsome, and she had
reigned supreme over them all at school, being always one of the most popular
there. Though she never adopted the popular mentality, she knew her place in the
world. She was above no one, but not below them, either. They were equals, no
matter what gender, no matter what color hair, no matter what lighted-up smile.
Julian had a crooked smile that moved into a smirk on occasion. He seemed
pleased to be paired up with Amy, assessing her body, looking her over right
away. "You're light," he said. "I like that. Don't want to be lifting a cow."
Amy held back a "moo" and decided to assess him right back. "Your legs look
strong... but will they crumble?"
"My legs are stronger than any dancer's in Connecticut," Julian said brashly,
immediately on the defense.
"Hmm, but we're not in Connecticut."
"They're certainly stronger than yours."
"Oh yeah?" said Amy, ready for a verbal tumble. "Prove it. If you're so
strong."
Julian gave her that telltale smirk, and then pirouetted, around and
around and around and around. He began pirouetting around her, sneaking
sly looks every time he faced her, his arms creating a circle before him, as if
he was holding an enormous ball. When finally he stopped, she was dizzy, and he
was on fire. He licked a finger and then set it to a sizzling noise on his leg.
Not to be outdone, after all, she was Everwood's finest dancer, Madame
Marie's greatest protégé, Amy began her jetes, up down and around, her
leg arched up in back, then sweeping around to the side, jumping, bouncing
around her new partner, her heart thrilling in the physical exercise, her mind
soaring to the ceiling. She could do this. She was strong, as good as anyone
else here. She could do anything. She stopped in an arabesque position,
leaning onto her bent back leg, breathing, taking deep cleansing breaths, her
chest huffing.
"Nice," Julian said with a nod. "Nice."
"Oh, you think I'm worthy of you, oh dance God?" asked Amy, letting her arms
fall to her sides, and relaxing out of her position.
"I think together we're going to kick ass," said Julian quite plainly. And
Amy smiled.
Madame came over to assess the two of them. She nodded definitively. "You're
an attractive pair. Perhaps more beautiful than the others. But can you live up
to the talent that will be expected of you? More is expected of the good looking
in this world."
"Madame, we will be your best dancers yet," promised Julian, making Amy give
him a look of surprise. Certainly he wasn't truly this cocky.
When Madame turned her scrutinizing eyes on Amy's lithe form, Amy trembled.
She was not used to such scrutiny. Madame ran her hand over Amy's upper arms,
and the muscular form of her thighs. "Yes," she said, "you are most definitely
strong. Live up to your beauty."
Amy nodded. She would try.
--
As Amy walked along campus, early in the morning, when the air was warm and
muggy; at night, from one building to another, she felt a presence as if behind
her. But when she would turn around, no one would be there. She felt as though
someone were staring, but from where, she couldn't say. Strange, to be so
admired, for a small-town girl finally in the big city.
- -
to be continued...
