Women! In! Peril! by Jessie Ren Marshall

Author:Jessie Ren Marshall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

* * *

That weekend Simon surprised me with tickets to see a modern dance troupe perform in the city. I wore a daring top with an open neckline that descended almost to my navel. The shirt made Simon uncomfortable. He did not want people looking at my body as if it were an object.

“But my body is an object,” I told him. “When I dance, it’s planes and angles. Negative space and spheres.” That’s all the V of flesh was. A shape and a color. Without the interpretation of other people’s eyes, my body could mean anything.

I enjoyed the first half of the show, but Simon did not. He wriggled in his seat like a toddler and unwrapped multiple packets of gum. I had to tell him to put away his phone. At intermission we filed into the lobby with the rest of the audience. It was a beautiful old theater, with velvet drapes and crystal chandeliers above a wide staircase.

We found a place to stand in front of a poster. In thick red letters, the word AWESOME stretched beneath the dancers’ feet.

“You guys!” called a familiar voice. Lauren, my suitemate, was coming over.

“What a coincidence!” Simon said, also with enthusiasm. Simon and Lauren nodded at each other and chirped, “Coincidence, coincidence.”

I understood it wasn’t a coincidence. Simon understood it, too. Lauren was in love with him. He seemed embarrassed by this fact, but also pleased. Because I wanted to see how they would react, I asked Lauren to go with Simon to get us drinks at the bar. Her face nearly ruptured with excitement as they walked away together, and I saw Simon wiggle his eyebrows to make her laugh. A moment later, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Nice shirt.” Amy smirked.

“Nice hair,” I said. In class she’d been wearing it under a bandanna, but now it was lifted and hardened with some sort of product.

“What do you think?”

“Of the dancers? Good.”

Amy made a face, and I laughed.

“I know them,” she said, spanking her program across her forearm. “I danced with them for years. They’re a bunch of assholes.”

A regal woman in the bathroom line was staring at us. She looked at her watch, which had a diamond band that matched the chandeliers, and then she abandoned her spot and came over.

“Amy!” Kissing both cheeks. “I thought you’d gone to Europe.”

“No, I’m still teaching. This is one of my students.”

The woman looked at me appraisingly. Her gaze landed on the exposed flesh of my chest, and she glanced at Amy with an expression I couldn’t read. A mix of admiration and disapproval, maybe. A warning and a wink. My heart beat faster in response.

“Amy, haven’t you taught her anything? This girl is a ballerina. Look at that turnout.”

We all looked down at my feet. The toes faced away from each other and my hips were open and ready.

“Like a little duck,” the woman added.

“I’m working on it,” Amy said. “Rome wasn’t torn down in a day.”

Just then, Simon returned with the drinks.

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