Rêveries

Chapter 35.

I didn't really speak to Charles for one and a half months after that. I didn't try to reach out but neither did he, so I just left it alone. He raced in China and he raced in Azerbaijan.

While Arthur and Charles were away doing their own thing, I was busy in the dance studio. I woke up every morning to go for a run or to go on a hike. I focused on my eating and I went to the gym. I met up with my dance partner, Èlliott, at the studio and we'd spend every single day perfecting our routine for the next competition.

We got along well, since we had to spend so many hours of every day with each other. We laughed a lot and we'd chit-chat during our breaks. It was nothing beyond that, though. As soon as we stepped out of the dance studio it was like we barely knew each other. We might say hello and stop to ask each other about a practice if we ran into each other at the supermarket, but we'd not hang out together. It was strictly a work relationship.

It's kind of refreshing to listen to someone talking about their weekend or plans for their birthday without having to worry about getting an invite you'd have to turn down because you simply don't really want to go. We'd talk about our plans or interests and know that the other doesn't really care but is listening to be polite.

Despite our relationship being so shallow, we still managed to make it look like we had somewhat of chemistry for when we were dancing. Well, we didn't look like complete strangers while dancing and we didn't look like we hated being there, so I guess that's something.

Èlliott was strictly a latin dancer, whilst I danced some of many different styles of dance. I wasn't as good as him and I could tell that it frustrated him even though he tried to act like it didn't. I could tell he wanted to be patient because he had been the one to ask me to dance with him, so he really tried to teach me and I think I picked it up and learned pretty quickly. It's not news to anyone that there is one type of dance that I truly know like the back of my hand – anything making me feel powerful. Street, hiphop, jazz, as long as I felt good doing it, like I was a badass bitch, that's when I did it better than anything else. Cha cha really isn't like that to me, but I went along with it because all I wanted to do was dance and compete. Èlliott was already competing before me and had coaches, sponsors etc. He was like a free card back into competing.

On Sunday, going into the week of our first competition together, we practiced until late in the evening. It was dark out when I said goodbye to Èlliott as we walked out of the dance studio. I took a walk home even though I really needed an ice bath for my feet after spending all this time in my heels. After five hours of not taking them off once, my feet wanted to fall off my legs. But I needed the fresh air, so I went for a walk up the hill and all the way home.

The hallway was dark when I walked through the front door, but I could see a warm light coming from the living room and a weak light from the kitchen. I dropped my bag in the hallway and was about to walk into the kitchen to get my smoothie when someone appeared in the doorway. I looked up at Charles standing there in his pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair was wet so I assumed he'd just gotten out of the shower. But I was surprised to see him home. I didn't really know what to say after one and a half months of not talking after our disagreement, so I stared for a moment and I watched him lean his shoulder against the doorway.

"Je ne savais pas que tu rentrais à la maison," I didn't know you were coming home, I say finally. He shakes his head. I thought he'd be in Maranello until it was time for the next race.

"J'ai un peu changé mes plans, je n'ai pas besoin de faire du tourisme à Barcelone, je l'ai déjà vu," I changed my plans a bit, I don't need to go sightseeing in Barcelona, I've seen it before, he shrugs. His voice is just slightly hoarse, like he hasn't been talking in a few hours.