❝PIROUETTE AND SWOON❞
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter fourteen,
Gilmore Girls — Season One
October 13th, 2000
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[ LUCY'S POV ]
LISA DUGRAY IS AN ANGEL, and I mean, literally an angel.
She's dressed in a beautiful white leotard with a tiny tutu and angel wings alongside the other beautiful ballerinas. Addy is preparing them for the upcoming winter recital, and I must say, they all look adorable in their matching outfits. Even Addy is dressed in all white, her wings larger and sparkly.
Addy looks so natural with all the girls. She holds a level of patience that I never could hold. She chants encouraging words to the girls, twirls them around, and lifts them up when they fall. She's an incredible teacher, and an even more incredible role model. Every girl looks to her with wide eyes and wider smiles. They adore Addy.
Before the class began, Addy introduced me to the group as her "best friend in the entire world," and every girl asked if I could dance. Before I had the chance to answer, Addy told them I could barely stand on two feet never mind one so no, I can't dance.
I met Lisa Dugray— Addy's favourite student— before I was dragged to meet the famous brother of Lisa's that Addy hasn't shut up about.
And oh, my God, Addy was right about him being attractive. He knows he's good looking, and the way he looks me up and down has my face turning a horrid shade of red. He reaches his hand out towards mine after Addy introduces me as, "Luciana Danes, my best friend, and number one fan." His hand against mine sends some spark down my spine, and I have to force a smile on my face so I don't look so awkward.
"Tristan Dugray," he introduces himself like he's done it a million times in the past. "It's lovely to meet you, Luciana."
"Lucy's fine," is what I say, my heart pounding in my ribcage as he squeezes my hand before freeing me. I frown at the loss of his touch, and Addy stands with a smug grin on her face before she leaves to teach the girls.
We sit alongside each other, not too close, but close enough that I can smell the scent of his cologne. My palms sweat against my thighs because I've never felt like this towards anyone. Is this what it feels like to feel attraction towards somebody? If so, I hate the gnawing feeling at my stomach and the tightness in my throat.
While Addy warms the girls up, Tristan speaks first, "Luciana." He hums, and I turn to face him. "Sounds angelic."
I've never been a fan of my name, always finding it odd that my dad didn't just name me Lucy. Surprisingly, I don't hate my name so much when he says it. And nobody had ever described my name as "angelic," and I quite like it.
However, I still insist that he call me Lucy.
He looks towards me, his eyes finding mine, and it seems like he's really looking at me, and I squirm in my seat under his gaze. I hear him hum again, and I suck in a breath while I rub my palms down my legs. "Blue eyes," he mutters.
"I see you're not blind," I quip.
"A blue-eyed angel," he whispers, and I squint at him, confused as to what he could mean. I know he's talking to me but nobody had ever described me in such a way. It was terrifying, but the redness of my cheeks said otherwise. "I've never seen you around to say that you're Addy's best friend in the entire world."
"Oh, I'm not here much," I say, turning back to look out to see the girls lining up on the stage. "Addy wanted me to come today to meet your sister. I think she's her favourite."
Tristan chuckles, and it's a beautiful sound. "Well, Addy is Lisa's favourite teacher even if she's only here once a week."
I watch to see Lisa leap across the stage, her feet landing perfectly in place, and I watch Addy clap her hands. "She's cute," I say.
I look towards Tristan, his brown eyes finding my blue ones, and I smile towards him. "She's been dancing since she was a kid," Tristan says, his eyes moving from mine back down to his sister who spins with one of the other girls. "She loves it, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I love watching her dance."
I find it sweet that he clearly loves his sister. It's comforting to know that there's guys out there who seek joy in simply watching their little sister dance. This guy is the definition of perfect, and I've only known him for two seconds.
"Are you a dancer?" Tristan asks, catching me off guard, and I nearly burst into laughter at the insinuation that I'm a dancer. Me.
I shake my head. "No. No, I can barely stand on two feet," I tell him, and he chuckles. "I'm the best friend who cheers from the sidelines. I'm a balletomane," I quip, and Tristan looks at me like I'm insane.
"What in the world is that?"
"Balletomane is a person who is a fan or enthusiast of ballet," I inform, and he nods, actually listening to me spew my word of the day. "I'm a balletomane because I'm a fan of ballet. And Addy."
"Well, Addy is a great dancer." I know she is. Addy is an extraordinary dancer, and I know that she'll impress those dance teachers at Juilliard, and she'll be on every stage in the world before she's thirty. "How long have you two known each other?"
"Uh, eleven years. We met when we were five, and Addy convinced me to take dance lessons but I sucked ass, and I quit when I was twelve." Addy had been disappointed when I quit four years ago but she understood. She knew I was a crap dancer, and I couldn't compare to her.
"Long time," he says, and I hum in response.
It doesn't matter how long me and Addy have been friends, or how long we will be friends, I will always have the upmost respect for her. I'll always love her because she's practically my sister, and I can't imagine my life without her.
"You got any siblings?" he asks, and I shake my head towards the stage where the girls are circling Addy.
"No," I say, but some part of always did want a brother or a sister. Although I don't think that's gonna happen, not with my dad being so against dating anyone.
"Life is more fun with them." His eyes look to his sister, and I see how he lights up just from looking at her. I shift in my seat, my leg brushing against his accidentally.
I clear my throat, choosing to pick a new subject. "You go to Chilton, right?"
"Yes," he says, dragging out the 's.' "You're from Stars Hollow, right?"
"Yeah." I nod, my head resting on my hands. "You must know Rory Gilmore."
"Oh, Mary?" He laughs, and I roll my eyes because I get the whole "virgin Mary" thing. "Yeah, I do. She doesn't like me very much."
"I can't see why," I toy, and he grins at me.
Tristan leans back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest, and I rest one leg over the other, trying to get comfortable in this awfully cold theatre. It's always cold in here, and I always bring an extra layer because it's too cold. Apparently the stupid heater broke, and they've been trying to get somebody to fix it for a year.
Tristan looks towards me. "You cold?"
I don't even get the chance to respond before he's slipping off his jacket and holding it towards me. "Oh, I—" He's moving me forward, his hand against my shoulder as he slings the jacket over my shoulders. "Thank you," I say, pushing my arms into the armholes.
"Anytime, Blue." He winks. Winks. And my insides feel like they're on fire, especially when my head registers the ridiculous nickname. Blue. Blue for "Blue Eyes." My cheeks are reddening, and I bite my bottom lip, trying to focus on the stage and the twirling ballerinas. "Blushing already? I've barely said a word, sweetheart."
I scoff, my eyes rolling. "You're ridiculous."
"You're the one whose cheeks are red." He points out the obvious, and I hate myself for feeling this way towards a literal stranger.
We look to the stage, and one girl trips over her own feet but Addy is quick to pick her up. I gasp, watching as the girl falls into Addy's arms. Thank God she didn't hurt herself, that would've been messy.
I look to Tristan, and his eyes are already on me. I can't fight the grin on my face from how he's staring at me. "I hope to see you here more often," he says.
"You might," I reply softly. "Any excuse to watch Addy in her element."
"You're really her number one fan, aren't you?"
"I think I'm more of a fan than Nathan," I say, but then I realise he might not know who Nathan is. "Oh, do you know who Nathan is?"
"Boyfriend, right?" I nod. "He's been here a few times. Nice guy. Plays hockey, right?"
"Best ice hockey player in Connecticut." I know I'm exaggerating but it's true. Nathan Garner is one of the best players in the state of Connecticut, and he's had many people scout him out, demanding that he play for their team.
"Well, maybe I should check out one of his games," he says, his gaze turning back to the stage. "Maybe you'd like to take me."
I hum, my cheeks warming again. "Oh, well, maybe I will."
Tristan looks back to me, his hand reaching out to take mine delicately. I let him, my body turning to face him as he digs into his jean pocket. When he pulls out a pen, I chuckle, and he says, "Never know when you need a pen."
I also carry a pen in my pocket.
He holds my palm open, and he pulls the cap of the pen off with his teeth. I watch, my eyes soft and wide as he begins to scribble down a sequence of numbers onto my palm.
I believe it's his phone number.
I then have to say the one thing I really don't want to say, "Uh, I don't have a cellphone."
He smirks, his eyes on me, and I shy away in embarrassment. I hate telling people I don't have a cellphone, especially since everybody I know owns one. "You don't have a cellphone?"
"No," I say, still ashamed, and I'm afraid he's silently judging me.
"Good girl." My face flushes pink, and I feel ridiculously embarrassed.
He pushes the cap back onto his pen and he pushes it back into his pocket, and I look down at his squiggly handwriting on the palm of my hand. I smile, brushing my thumb over the ink against my skin.
Tristan frees my hand, and I frown at the loss. "My dad doesn't believe in cellphones," I admit because I feel like I should explain myself to him. "We... We don't allow them in the diner..."
"Diner?"
"My dad owns a diner," I confirm, my fingers toying with each other. "You should stop by one day. You know, when you come to see Nathan's hockey game?"
Tristan chuckles, catching the way my face warms from me wanting to see him outside of the theatre. "I'll be sure to do that," he says softly.
I nod, and I lean back in my chair, my hands tucking into the jacket pockets. "I don't know how I'll call you."
"I'm sure you'll figure it out, pretty girl."
I've never felt this way before. My face is warm. I'm blushing. I'm red in the face, and I feel very embarrassed that one interaction with a boy is making me feel all tingly on the inside, and my stomach aches just from talking to him.
No boy has ever looked at me, never mind flirted with me or wanted to go on a date with me... if that's what this is.
Before either of us have the chance to say another word, Lisa comes barreling down the stairs towards her brother. She's out of breath, holding her hands out, and Tristan reaches into his bag to pull out her water bottle.
"Addy is teaching us how to do a glissade," the girl squeals, taking a long sip of her water before pushing it back into her brother's hands. "Make sure you watch!"
She rushes back off to the stage, and she's the first one there as the other girls get drinks from their families.
Tristan leans towards me and asks, "What's a glissade?"
"You have a sister who dances but you don't know the terms?" I tsk, shaking my head in disappointment, and Tristan scoffs.
"You're the balletomane, or whatever you said earlier, so shouldn't you know?"
I sigh, and I recall the term, "A glissade is French for "sliding," and it starts with a sliding step and ends with the fifth position— where the feet are turned out and pressed closely together— and there are six types of glissades."
"You're like a human dictionary. I'm fascinated." He looks at me with wide eyes, his head leaning against his hand as he watches me talk. He's really listening to me babble on, it's sort of sweet. "I don't read, but I'd definitely read you."
I laugh, my hand covering my mouth to stop myself from interrupting, but I catch a few odd glances from some parents. "Don't ever say that again," I beg.
"What are the six types of glissades?"
"Devant, derrière, dessous, dessus, en avant, and en arrière," I list them off with my fingers, and Tristan smiles warmly. Wow, that smile. "The difference between them depends on the starting and finishing positions and directions."
"Wow, you really are an avid balletomane."
"Best friend of a dancer. I know the terms." Even Addy doesn't know half of the ballet terms, but I'm the one who reads, and I'm the one who retains the information before reciting back all kinds of garbled ballet knowledge to her.
"Smart and pretty. Aren't I lucky?" I roll my eyes, my face turning a shade of pink again.
"You don't seem the type of guy to date a smart girl," I say, and I wish I didn't because he falls silent for a good minute.
"You're right, I don't," he says, and I'm surprised he'd admit something like that. "I'd like to get to know you though, if you'll let me."
I haven't had to get to know anyone in years, mainly because I'm not usually comfortable around new people, but Tristan brings a strange sense of comfort to me. He's made me feel comfortable in the last half an hour, and he's just a stranger to me. I only know him as the brother of Addy's favourite student.
I can't understand why he would want to get to know me. "You've only just met me," I say, and my thumb runs over the ink on my palm again. He gave me his number and he barely knows me. "Why would you want to get to know me?"
"I find you interesting," he replies, tilting his head towards me. "You have a problem with that?"
"No," I say, my head turning towards him.
"Good."
He turns his head back to the stage, and we fall silent while we watch the ten-year-old girls dance around the stage. Addy teaches them many different ballet moves, and she offers her help to the girls who struggle more than others. I love watching Addy in her element, and I wonder if she'll teach when she's older. She's a natural.
When the class ends after another half an hour, Lisa comes racing towards her brother, and Addy stays behind to watch the girls rush to their guardians. "It was lovely meeting you, Blue."
I smile, my eyes moving down to Lisa who tugs at her brother's hand to get him to move. "Oh—" I begin removing the jacket he gave to me but he reaches his hand out to stop me. "What?"
"Give it to me next time you see me," he says, and I scoff. He's confident that I'll see him again, and he might... "I'll see you soon, I hope."
"Bye," I say, my hand involuntarily waving.
When Addy finishes talking with a few mothers, she comes rushing over to me, her hands grasping my shoulders. She squeals loudly in my ear, and she tightens her grip on my shoulders, shaking me excitedly.
I free myself from her hands, and I smack her arm. "What are you doing?"
"You're wearing his jacket and—" She snatches my hand, reading off my palm. "He gave you his number! Oh, I knew you'd get along with him. Isn't he cute?"
I snatch my hand back, rolling my eyes at my best friend. "Get away from me, you psycho."
Despite how I may feel about the kind stranger, there's still this unwanted nagging feeling at the pit of my stomach that won't settle.
But I definitely think I'll find a way to call him.
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authors note:
and now tristan is here <3