Backstage: Third Time's the Charm

Beckett Bradstreet

Beckett Bradstreet
Grade 11
Dance Program

I arrived home about an hour before my mom. Rather than do my homework, I headed for the kitchen and started to cook.

For most of my life, I'd lived with my dad. He wasn't the greatest cook, so I'd learned early on that if I wanted to eat real food instead of fast food, I'd have to cook it myself. And the hobby had stuck even after coming to live with my mom.

But since her eye surgery last year, I think she was grateful that I could take care of some things around the house.

I quickly scrambled some eggs, adding onions and bell peppers to the liquid mix. Tonight was an omelet night.

While the pan heated, I turned and started a new project: brownies. Baking had also become a hobby, something I hadn't shared with anyone, even Vanessa. There was no way Sasha could turn down homemade brownies tomorrow at lunch.

The front door opened. My mom puttered in, slamming her keys on the table near the door.

I finished flipping the omelets, placing them on two plates.

"I made dinner." Bracing myself for a fight, I walked to the kitchen table and put the plates down.

She entered the kitchen, looked at the omelets, and scowled at me. "We need to talk."

I shrugged and sat down, jabbing my fork into the soft, fluffy eggs.

"Beckett, eating is not going to fix this problem."

"What problem?" I asked.

She sighed and joined me. Resting her elbows on the table, my mom held her head in one hand.

"I didn't want you to date anyone when you first came here," she started. "It sounds terrible, but I didn't want you to make friends at all. Not after what happened at your last school."

The fork clattered against the plate as I threw it down. "Do we really have to talk about this again?"

I'd rather talk about anything else.

"Yes, we do," she said softly. Mom picked up her fork and silently ate the cooled omelet.

She set her fork down gently and looked at me once more. "You were in a car accident with your last girlfriend. A car accident that you caused by driving drunk."

I flinched. Lindy had been a dancer, too. But the accident broke her back. I'd heard after intensive therapy, she was walking again, but she would never dance again. It was my fault.

"I'm not drinking again, if that's what you're asking."

"It wasn't, but that's good to know." She leaned back in her seat, finally relaxing a little.

"Are you going to make me break up with Vanessa?"

"I want to know if you're okay, Beckett."

I took a sharp intake of breath. "It was an accident. I got distracted. It won't happen again."

"That still doesn't answer my question." She tilted her head and removed her glasses. "I asked if you were okay. I didn't want you in my studio today because I was afraid you might be a danger to the other dancers."

Like when Sasha stopped dancing after he injured Jenna.

"I haven't started drinking again."

Mom waited patiently for me to continue.

"I ruined my friendship with Sasha. I was thinking about it when I dropped Vanessa."

"Okay," she said slowly. "What do you think you need to do?"

I stood and walked back into the kitchen, placing the plates in the sink. "Keep dance and personal stuff separate," I said.

"That's a good start."

"You aren't going to lecture me?"

"No. I think you've got this figured out already."

I finally smiled a little. "Thanks, Mom."

**********

I arrived at Keaton the next day armed with brownies and a plan. I hoped I was being paranoid.

Yet again, Sasha wouldn't eat if he was offered food. He guzzled water like an elephant though, going through three bottles before our second period was over.

By the time, we reached fourth period—lunch— I knew I had to take action.

As we sat down, I cut Carly off, sitting next to Sasha before she could.

"Beckett!" She gave me a questioning look before joining Vanessa on the other side.

"Is there a reason you're not sitting with me?"

Vanessa's expressionless face and attitude made me snort. I only shrugged.

Carly rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed.

"I have an extra vegetable roll," I said, turning to Sasha. "Want one?"

He twisted his fourth water bottle between his hands. "I'm good."

"You sure?"

Jenna sat down at the end of the table. "Sasha, where's your lunch?"

Great, now I had backup, too.

"I'm not hungry."

"Really? I have some amazing brownies." I held them up to Sasha's face.

"Beckett!" Vanessa hissed. "Leave him alone."

Her face held a hint of warning.

"Come on, no one can resist brownies."

"What is your problem?" Sasha swatted the brownies from my hand. They crumbled on the concrete.

"I just noticed you haven't eaten anything."

"And you were worried I relapsed?" Sasha's voice grew louder. He stood, shaking his head, and stomped away.

"He's doing a water fast," Vanessa said. "Ms. Maria recommended we do them every six months."

"He's fine, Beckett. Appreciate the concern, but I think you just made things worse," Carly added.

Carly was right. All I could do now was say 'sorry.'

I found Sasha in the studio, practicing a new dance.

"Hey."

He ignored me.

"I'm sorry I overreacted...about everything."

Sasha stumbled over one of his steps. He stopped and turned the music off. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not going to relapse," he said. "I learned from that mistake."

"Good."

"So, Jax and I are going to an arcade Friday. You want to come?"

"Sure."

It's fixed. It's finally fixed.