Thirty-five

Tiffany:

“Are you sure everything is all right? Ever since you had lunch with your friends you’ve been awfully quiet.” I was in my bedroom packing my bags. Mom insisted on helping me. I tried to ignore the fact that she kept refolding the shirts before placing them in my duffle bag. It was her way of stalling. Why did I sense a pep talk coming?

“I’m fine, Mom. Really. I’m sad to be leaving, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to leave, Tiffany. You could come back. If you want to go to school here, your grades are fantastic, you could go anywhere. I’m sure you’d love NYU.”

“No, I don’t want to transfer again. Besides, I left New York to get away from all the things that reminded me of the stage. There’s too many memories here.”

“Tiffany, I know you don’t want to rehash this, but I told you, there is an operation you could have with a high success rate. There’s no need to give up on your dreams. You’re twenty-one.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“I don’t want you to be forty years old and have regrets. I’m only looking out for you.”

“Are you, or is it that if I’m not a dancer than I’m not good enough as your daughter?”

As soon as I saw the hurt in my mother’s face, I regretted my words. “Tiffany. How could you ever think that?” She stepped forward and reached for my arm, but I pulled away. “I push you to look into the surgery because I know how happy you are when you were on the stage. It was your joy. I want you to feel that joy again. It doesn’t have to be from dance.” She walked over to my bag and slipped a DVD inside it.

“What’s that?”

“Something you should watch. When you’re ready. Maybe Brit would like to watch it with you.”

“I should go. I’m meeting Brit at Grand Central by noon.”

“All right. But please understand me when I say that all I want is for you to be happy. That’s it. That’s all I have ever wanted.” She hugged me, and I had to hold back my tears.

I knew she was being honest. I also knew that I dismissed the idea of surgery as soon as she brought it up. The last surgery left me with so much pain and that horrid scar. It wasn’t easy for me to simply lie down on a table and say okay, carve me up. What if it didn’t help, or made it worse? I couldn’t have hope like that again.

Being outside the Majestic theater yesterday, I realized how my dreams had been shattered the moment the car hit me. That, coupled with seeing Harry on a date, and I felt hollow inside. I realized that Harry ended our friendship—or however he wanted to define it—right after we got back from the city. Now, seeing him here with that mystery girl, it was easy to imagine that he had met her when he was back and needed me out of the picture. Maybe she was an old flame, and they had rekindled something that began before he left for Pennsylvania. My mind had conjured a thousand different scenarios, and none of them were good.

The girls had tried to get me to smile, but I think I only dampened the afternoon. I was beyond cheering up, and as Kristen was going on about her wedding, I realized I’d have to see Harry there. Maybe he would bring that girl. It was all a lot to take in so I didn’t think Brit was surprised when I turned to her on the train and said, “So, would it be the most horrific thing if I RSVP’d no to Kristen and David’s wedding?”

Brit took a deep breath and looked at me, her eyes were sad. “No. I mean, I really want you there. Kristen is making me wear green, and with my hair, I’ll look like bizarro Joker, but that’s not the only reason I need you there. She’s my big, and she’s your big-big. Kristen is the reason I stuck with Delta Sig. If I had left, I never would have met you, and you’re my person.”

“I don’t think I could watch him be on a date for four hours while I sat there alone.”

“Then bring someone.”

“I don’t have anyone to bring.”

“Bring Jaime.”

“Jaime is going with Rob. Besides, I don’t think you can offer Jaime out as dates to your friends. He barely knows me.”

“Natalie’s boyfriend Enzo has a brother. He’s single.”

“Brit, I can’t go with someone else. That’s not the solution. The problem is it would hurt too much to see him with someone else. Dancing, laughing, maybe kissing. I know we never even shared one kiss, but I was… I am… so in love with him. I don’t think I could handle that kind of hurt.”

“All right. But maybe we could put you down as a maybe. In case you change your mind.”

“That’s not how this stuff works. Kristen needs to reserve the seats and pay for them. I can’t ask her to pay for a seat that I might not even sit in.”

“All right. Well, you have until June to respond. A lot can change between now and June.”

“Right, like Harry could get engaged.”

“Wow, you’re really milking this, huh?”

“Sorry. I’m basically at ground zero so you may want to take another seat, far away from the sadness.”

“Or…” She pulled out her laptop and offered me one of her headphones. “We could binge something on Netflix? It’s a long ride. We could watch something super bloody.”

“Oh, my mom gave me a DVD and told me I should watch it with you.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the disc.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

Brit took the disc and popped it into her laptop. It took a few moments for the hard drive to read it, but then it began to play. It was me. At the age of two, twirling in an empty dance studio. I was giggling and appeared to be making myself very dizzy.

“Is that you?” Brit said with a huge smile.

“Yeah. Looks like it.”

The image changed. I was older now, about six, working on my pirouettes. I was getting better. It changed again, and I was eight and at the barre. By ten, the video was better quality, and I was on stage at Lincoln center. More images appeared. I got stronger. Better. The last was my audition at the Majestic theater. I was nineteen, and I was really good. I knew, watching that video, I would have gotten the job.

“Tiffany. You’re absolutely amazing.”

“No,” I said, my voice deadpan. “I was amazing.”