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Teddy
“YOU’VE BEEN EXCEPTIONALLY lucky, Teddy,” Dr. Reimbert says. “But we can’t have a repeat of this. You nearly died. I need you to understand how serious this is. If there’s a third time where you’re brought in like this, we may not be able to save you. You were also seriously dehydrated with dangerous electrolyte imbalances.”
It’s strange. I’d kind of convinced myself that I didn’t care if I died so long as I was still dancing. But lying here in the hospital again, I realize I was wrong. I don’t mean that I’ve had a massive revelation and now want to live. There’s still not that strong feeling of wanting to live without dance in me. But I know now that I don’t want to die. Maybe I want to find out what I can be. What can happen now.
But I don’t want this to be over.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Dad says. He’s next to me in the chair. He’s been here all night.
Dr. Reimbert is still looking at me. “We’re going to be sorting out some psychiatric help for you.”
I sit up a little. “What?”
“A shrink?” my dad blurts.
“Getting used to a new diagnosis like this can be very difficult,” she says. “We all understand that, and we understand the impact of being told you can’t do what you love. Some patients need extra help with this, and we will provide it. But we have also just been made aware of some extra information regarding your health from one of your teachers.”
Joe.
I close my eyes.
“What’s this?” Dad asks.
Dr Reimbert looks at me. “I’ll let you tell your dad,” she says. “I’ll be back shortly with your latest blood test results. We’ll discuss long-term management of the HCM, too.”
Long-term management. I know from the booklet and all my research and the doctors’ prior words that likely means some kind of pacemaker or implanted defibrillator.
“Well, son?” Dad says once the doctor’s left. “What is she talking about? You got another diagnosis? One that needs a shrink?”
I don’t like the way he says shrink. “No.” Technically, it’s not a lie. Joe isn’t a psychiatrist. He can’t diagnose me. He can only suspect.
“So, what the hell was she on about?”
I take a deep breath. I can feel the words inside me, but I can’t catch them, don’t want to catch them.
“Is Taryn there?” I ask. The question surprises me.
Dad shakes his head. “She was. Yesterday. But the academy sent her back. And the other dancer, too. But don’t change the subject.”
“The other dancer?”
“Asian guy. But what was that doctor—”
“Jaidev? He was here?” I don’t know how I feel about that. Angry? Annoyed? Upset. Or just.... empty.
I don’t really think I’m feeling anything. Other than knowing I want to live.
I can’t even remember most of yesterday. Doctors told me that Taryn and some others found me in a studio, unconscious. The only thing I can recall is getting up yesterday morning and going to the canteen but being too disgusted by the amount of grease on the bacon to eat any. Not just to eat any bacon but to eat anything at all. I felt as though the grease had contaminated all the food in the room. An invisible layer of fat on everything. I couldn’t even pick up a banana, so I didn’t.
And there was something empowering about that feeling that I loved. Walking out of there hungry but knowing I was strong. Knowing I was being healthy.
And then my memory is hazy, foggy. Like there’s a translucent wash over everything. I catch the odd glimpse of faces—Mrs. Nolan and Taryn and Madame Cachelle. And then I was here.
“Talk to me,” Dad says.
I look at him, and I feel lost and alone and fragile. And scared.
“I’m scared. So scared.”
“I know, son,” is all he says
I hold his hand. I can’t remember the last time I held his hand. Even as a child, it was always Mum’s hand I held. Never Dad’s. He was the scary parent. The parent who did the disciplining. I never went to him for comfort, but right now, he’s all I have got. The only parent here.
“I’m going to leave ballet behind,” I say. “It’s too painful, trying to still hold on to what I cannot have.”
“I think that’s a sensible thing to do.”
“And...” I look at him. “I need help. I’ve got an eating disorder, and I need help for it.”
###
IN THE EVENING, I FINALLY do it. I take out my phone and text Taryn.
I’m so sorry for being so horrible to you and not being there for you with all the stuff with the company dancer bullying you. I should’ve helped you more, but I believed it wasn’t Victoria when she swore she’d not done anything to you other than snide comments in class and out and about. But I should’ve trusted you. I’m so sorry.
Her reply is almost instant. Teddy! How are you? What’s going on? And don’t be silly, you don’t need to apologize. None of this was you or your fault. And it wasn’t Victoria. It was Xavier. Well, he did the big stuff. She still said some mean things.
Xavier? My roommate. Former roommate? What the hell?
I phone her.
“Hey.” She sounds the same. Just like my best friend always does.
“Hi.” My throat feels dry. “Sorry, easier to talk than text. But it was Xavier?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure how much you know, but he stole my sister’s shoes and gave them to Victoria, that’s what the police told me in their update just now. He admitted to writing the threatening notes. And attacking me twice.”
“Twice?”
“Yeah. Before the showcase, he tried to stab me.”
I swear. “But you’re okay?”
“Yeah. He locked me in the studio with him, but Jaidev broke the door down. It all happened so quickly, really.”
“Wow.” For several moments, I just don’t know what to say. I hate how things aren’t like they used to be. I’d always thought, deep down, that Taryn and I would stay best friends all our lives. We’d found each other. We are like soulmates. Non-romantic and non-sexual soulmates. But we were close, just as close as others who have those relationships. But close in a different way.
“Yeah.” Her voice is soft.
“Did you do it? Get into the company?” I ask.
“We did.”
We. It hurts me the way she says it.
“I’m glad. Really, I am. You deserve it. And you’re going to be amazing, Taryn. You know that, right? You’re amazing.”
I think she’s smiling.
“But just do one thing for me, yeah?” I whisper. “Dance for me too. Dance for me, and I’ll feel it. I’ll feel it here.” I touch my heart, though she can’t see it. “Dance for both of us. And I’ll do something for both of us, too. Accounting, maybe.”
She laughs. “You’re terrible at adding up.”
“I know,” I say. “But I’m going to learn what else I’m good at.”
Long after we’ve ended the call, I’m still thinking about her. I want to be close with her. And I know that can’t happen now I’m not going back to Roseheart. Now my dancing career, and any career linked to it, is over.
I’ll have to let Taryn go.
Even if we are soulmates.
Even if....
But a plan begins to form. A plan that makes me smile.
It might work.