If Ever(14)

And so I do, which seems like the main lesson I've learned here in Hollywood. Smile and never let anyone know how you really feel.

Marcus announces, "And the couple going home tonight is..."





6





"Tell me, how is it possible that we beat out Dalton? He wasn't a good dancer, but he had the muscles and the face," I say.

Dominic cracks up. "Maybe it's because he had the personality of a spiraling gold fish. Plus, his partner is new to the show this year, so viewers haven't connected with her yet."

"Are you saying we made it through because viewers like you?"

He smirks. "It certainly hasn't hurt."

I shake my head, but it's true. Dominic was my favorite when I watched the show. So here I am in LA for another week and back in the rehearsal hall.

"And you're more interesting than Dalton. You get mad, you're stubborn, and despite the fact you fight to keep anyone from getting to know you, bits and pieces shine through."

I bristle. In my world no one sticks around for long, so it's easier to keep things to myself. "I just don't think people need to know my personal junk. Trust me. I'm boring."

"That's highly doubtful. Give me time, I'll get you to reveal yourself." He motions me onto the floor to stretch. "In case we make it through next week, I have an assignment for you."

"You think we have a chance?" I ask, hopeful for our changes to stay on.

"We're still a long shot, but until Marcus calls our name, we're going to fight to the bitter end. Agreed?"

I nod and lean over my leg. I've become much more limber the past few weeks.

"If we make it through, next week is the Celebrity's pick. You get to choose our music. It should be a song that has significance to you."

"Geez, that's vague. Do you mean like my prom theme?"

"Was your prom meaningful?" He switches leg stretches and starts ankle rolls. I do the same.

"Not really." I went with a couple friends and borrowed a hand-me-down dress.

"Well, think on it, but don't take long. I need to submit the song tomorrow, so the producers can clear rights to use it."

"No pressure there."

"If you can't think of one, I can suggest several that'll work."

I get to my feet. "No way. You get to control everything."

Dominic laughs. "Yeah, well, my decisions have been working well so far."

"You call us ending up in the bottom three every week working? Pfft."

"One other thing. This is family week."

His back is to me so he doesn't see me freeze up. Suddenly the air in the room is suffocating.

Dominic turns back around. "The producers want to show clips of the families cheering on their celebrity. We've never talked about your family before, but I'd love to meet them."

I glance at the camera with its constant little light recording my every move. Do I really have to address this now? Dominic is waiting for my response. I swallow.

"Is that a problem?" he asks, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

Turning my back to the camera, I say as softly, "I don't have any family."

He's taken back. "No one?"

I give a slight shake of my head. "No parents, no siblings, not even a grandparent."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry."

"We're in L.A. Maybe we can hire some actors to play the part," I joke, but maybe it’s an option.

"Don't worry about it." He shrugs it off but clearly feels sorry for me and wonders why I'm alone. But he doesn't ask. "Let's get started."

I nod.

As usual, the beginning of learning any number is the hardest. This week it's the cha cha, a quick-paced Latin dance. Dominic speeds through the steps.

"Dude, please slow down. My brain doesn't move that fast," I complain.

"We have to get this down, so we can start polishing sooner. The only way we have a chance is to deliver a perfect dance."

So I grumble on the inside and do my best to keep up. After a twenty-minute lunch break at two p.m., we're back at it, this time marking it with music. On our third try, I confuse which foot to use, then quick correct. My heel catches, my ankle turns, and slides out from under me.

I crumble to the floor with a painful screech, landing on my hip with an unladylike umph.

"Shit, are you okay?" Dominic's at my side in an instant, and I realize the camera guy is too.

Cringing with pain, between clenched teeth I say, "Not sure yet."

He frowns and stares at my foot. I blow out my breath and the immediate pain seems to wane. "May I?" he asks, his hand poised to touch my injury.

"Sure."

He gently presses different areas of my ankle.

I wince. "Right there. It's tender, but better than a minute ago."

"Let me grab you some ice."

He leaves me alone with the producer and cameraman. I want to lie back, close my eyes, and calm myself down, but the cameraman will record my weakest moment, so I lean back on my hands and watch my ankle swell. What will this mean to our rehearsals? What if I can't compete?

Dominic comes back with Hank and Sonya on his heels.