His Little Ballerina- B. Barnes

Chapter 13: Veronica (2014)

Say you'll remember me

~Wildest Dreams, Taylor Swift

The subway took me to Brooklyn, just as he sign had said. People got off the train only to buy another ticket for another stop. The lady I had stood next to and snuck in with was one of these people.

She had tried to make conversation with me, but after one minute, I got out my headphones and she stopped trying. I still had the headphones in, and my music drowned out the noise of the other people. The station wasn't as crowded as Manhattan's, which was nice.

I walked out onto the streets, and saw a small Barnes and Noble, a Victoria's Secret, and a few restaurants. Not many people were out, and I assumed most people had to work and were currently doing whatever burning job they signed up for with their burning college degrees.

"Excuse me," said a deep voice behind me. It was then I realized I was blocking the path. A man brushed passed me‍‍‍‍, not even bothering to try to avoid me.

"Watch it." I snapped, beginning to walk in the other direction. I could hear him scoff in disgust even though I was five feet away.

I continued to walk. I'd have to get a plane back to D.C. and get all my stuff together before finding somewhere else to live. Something in my gut told me D.C. wasn't as good of a place to live as I thought it would be, even if my dance career was located there.

Hopefully there was some hotel close by, because I was not in the mood to walk around Brooklyn in the middle of November.

Two more people passed me on the street, and neither of them made a sound. I continued to walk two more blocks until I bumped into something and fell back.

I let out a slight groan and proceeded to sit up and rub my lower back. There was definitely going to be a bruise later on today in that exact spot.

First Scott, then Jessica, and now this. If this string of shitty luck continued, stone was going to get a dose of living Hell from yours truly.

A hand was extended out to me. "Oh God... I didn't see you there..." a deep voice mumbled

I took the hand and it helped me up. The person attached to that hand shocked me. Clearly the man before m wasn't from around New York due to the very thin jacket he was wearing. It was November and it was on the brink of snowing. What kind of idiot just wears a simple thin jacket?

I adjusted my little winter hat and dusted my coat off. "You're fine! People get knocked down by complete strangers all the time... or at least I do." I replied. The man smiled.

"Oh..." was all he said.

"So where are you from?" I asked, curious as to why someone like him would be in New York.

His cheeks turned an embarrassing red color. "Is it that obvious?" He asked, taking a look at himself, wondering where he went wrong when clearly the answer was right in front of him.

I sighed. "You're wearing a thin coat, and only one glove. You're also wearing some stupid baseball cap. New York just doesn't seem like the place for you."

"You'd be surprised." He replied, shoving both of his hands into his pockets.

I allowed myself a simple smile. "Anyways, I'm Veronica." I held out my hand which was concealed by a tan glove. He took my hand with the one that didn't have the matching glove on it.

"James."

"I don't suppose you'd mind if I took you for a little coffee? You're shivering." I offered. He was shaking and there was a little cafe I used to go to with Giselle before I moved to D.C.

James smiled, and his blue eyes seemed to have a shimmer that lasted for only a moment.

"I don't see why not."

..........

"So you used to live in Brooklyn?"

The aroma of chocolate and cream was something both James and I needed, and it made our little conversation feel like something out of a movie.

According to him, he'd lived in Brooklyn for most of his life. He was in D.C. for a while, like me, and he wanted to come home and take a trip down memory lane. The only thing that bothered me was he kept jotting down things in this little black journal he had brought along after every few sentences.

He just finished writing another thing down when he looked back up at me.

"Yeah. Although I've spent so much time in D.C. that I kind of forgot about a lot of this place." There was something I saw in him I hadn't seen before in the hour I had known him. There was a kind of emptiness... maybe someone he loved died? Or he had amnesia? Whatever it was, I didn't want to bring it up.

"I used to live in Russia before I came here. The rest of my family is still back there, but I honestly don't remember any of them."

James looked at me with sympathy...great... that's the last thing I need.

He looked puzzled when he spoke. "Russia?" He asked, curiosity present in the atmosphere he had created with the question.

I nodded my head, but noticed something was off. He seemed very tense at the mention of the country I barely remember. But what could cold winters and communism have to do with him? He said it himself that he had only lived in Brooklyn and D.C...unless... he wasn't telling me the whole story.

Snap out of it, Veronica. His past isn't any of your concern. You just met the guy.

"Are you okay? You've been staring at the wall for longer than someone usually would." James said, making me shake my head and turn my attention back to my peppermint mocha.

I took a sip. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just...zone out sometimes."

A silence followed and we both concentrated on our drinks, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Do you want to get out of here?" I suggested.

"Oh God yes. This is the most awkward conversation I've ever had in a cafe."

I smiled and began to put on my coat again. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and put the warm, fuzzy hat back over my long, wavy brown hair that had decided to be wild today. James and I walked out together, laughing a little as we passed the shop.

"I've never done anything like this before." I said, turning to face him.

He smiled, and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as a strong wind blew in our faces. The cold stung, but I loved it. Why did I ever leave this place?

Oh right. Because it's Brooklyn and I've only known Manhattan and Queens.

Maybe once I got everything sorted out back home, I'd move up here. I could live in Brooklyn, maybe even get a job as an author or own my own dance studio.

The fantasy warmed me inside and kept the wind from bothering me all the way to a small apartment complex that James had stopped us right outside of. He was staring at it, almost as if it was bringing back something painful.

"James? You okay?" I called out to him. He didn't respond for what seemed like an eternity. He just stared at it, taking every little detail in.

"Yeah... I'm okay."

He tore his eyes away from the building and turned to face me. "Sorry..." he whispered, a little embarrassed.

"It's okay." I said. "Did you used to live there?" I asked.

He shook his head. "My friend used to."