Until We Break (Formerly Wicked, Wild, Wonderful)

CHAPTER TWO

Jessica was around a lot these days. The following morning, for example, she shook Naomi awake and reminded her of her outgrown toenails. Terrible for dancing—especially with rehearsals for Grand Prix beginning on Monday. So the first thing the girls did on Saturday involved Jessica holding Naomi firmly by the shoulders as Naomi snipped her toenails down to the line. The activities that followed were different types of cuttings.

For breakfast, Jessica divided Naomi's portions. Then it was dancing straight into the afternoon, while Jessica watched and corrected Naomi in the standing mirror. Lunch was the same. The evening was the same. Dinner was the same. The night was the same. The girls were, more than they had been in the past two weeks, attached. Where one was, there was the other, and for it to have been any other way would have meant that too many things, like the toenails, would eventually be outgrown.

Before Naomi slept, Jessica made clear that the bedroom's floor space was insufficient as well. If they were serious about getting into the New York City Ballet one day, and they were, Naomi would need a real studio with a metal barre and flooring and all the other unmalleable things a dance studio offered. In other words, they needed the Riverside Performing Arts Theater. Jessica was, Naomi knew, right. So she packed her tights and all her equipment and set her alarm for eight the next day.

Jessica woke her at seven.

She explained that more time awake really meant more time to rehearse. Which meant that Naomi could make her routine tighter, which ultimately meant that the earlier she woke up, the higher her chances would be of getting accepted into the New York City Ballet. Naomi quickly showered, changed, and leaped down the stairs. When she got to the landing, she noticed how quiet the rest of the house was. It was a Sunday morning so she knew she'd be the only one up. In fact, she counted on it. Except that when she got to the living room on her way out, she heard snoring coming from the couch.

She had assumed initially that it was her father. She didn't know why—she'd never seen him sleep on the couch before—but somehow it felt like the right conclusion. But when she got closer, Naomi saw it was her mom lying there. Fast asleep with a blanket lazily covering her midsection. Next, she noticed an open bottle of wine on the coffee table and its accompanying half-full glass. Naomi walked around the couch and fixed the blanket over her mother. She'd never seen her mom out here drinking wine before, and she wasn't sure what to make of it. But she wasn't sure she had the time to think about it either. Jessica was already urging her to hurry. "We have to get going! You need to rehearse!"

Naomi gathered herself.

Scurrying out the door, she convinced herself that a lot of adults drank wine on Saturday evenings; her mother was no different. If anything, her mother was the same, and she could drink as much wine on as many Saturdays as she'd like.

On their walk to the theater, the girls brainstormed the best routine to impress the judges from the School of American Ballet at Grand Prix. They figured if George Balanchine had founded the New York City Ballet, the School of American Ballet, and taught Valentino, then the most effective strategy for demonstrating Naomi's commitment to all three would be to perform a piece from one of Balanchine's own ballets, The Nutcracker.

Jessica warned Naomi that the ballet was a bit juvenile, but eventually the girls decided to use that to their advantage. At Naomi's level she could make the moves she'd been practicing since she was twelve look flawless. The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy would come especially easy for her, given how often she had rehearsed it in her standing mirror. At home, the pain had made the ballet memorable. Onstage, the pain would make the ballet perfect.

The Riverside Performing Arts Theater was usually dark and closed off on Sundays since the dance academy wasn't there to bring it to life with their practicing. But every other Sunday, like today, the building opened up for the community choir. They came here for a few hours a day to rehearse songs and hymns, but for Naomi, it also meant that the theater was open for anyone else to use. Namely, her.