The Man I Love (The Fish Tales, #1)(42)

Everyone waited to see what, if any, disciplinary action would be taken against James. It turned out to be unnecessary: four days after Daisy was injured, mid-semester grades came out. Once again, James came in under the required 2.0. No appeal this time. He was dismissed from his roles and put on academic probation. Shunned and shamed, he skulked from class to class, head down, hugging the wall. Erik didn’t know if Will had roughed him up or not. He didn’t care. He was too worried about Daisy.

The fall had spooked her badly. John was going to learn James’s part in “The Man I Love” but rehearsals didn’t go well. Daisy was tentative on her ankle, hesitating at key moments. She couldn’t mesh with John and it made him nervous and balky. He zigged and she zagged. Then he was terrified she would fall and he would grab at her, throwing her off. After an agonizing and frustrating week, John knocked at the door of Jay Street, looking for Daisy.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said. “And I’m going to Marie tomorrow and telling her what everyone already knows.”

“Which is?” Daisy said.

“You need to dance ‘The Man I Love’ with Will.”

Will got up from the couch. “Ope, come on. You can dance it.”

“I know I can dance it, but it won’t be what it should.” He saw Daisy about to get up and pointed at her. “You sit. Stay off that ankle.”

Daisy’s lips twitched as she suppressed a laugh. John had matured considerably the past few months. He was standing taller, exuding confidence. Looking and acting a lot like Will, Erik thought.

“You worked hard,” Daisy said. “I feel terrible you keep getting all these chances taken away.”

“One chance got taken away last fall. But I got a matinee out of it. And now I am gifting this chance to the person who should have it. Look, Dais, I have years ahead of me. This is Will’s last concert and it’s your last concert with him. Let me do this.” The plea was impassioned, but John’s voice didn’t skitter once. Like John, it had made up its mind.

“Opie, you’re a prince,” Will said. “But I don’t know if Marie will—”

John held up a finger. “One, don’t f*cking call me Opie. Two, I got this. What, you think you’ve cornered the market on charm, Kaeger?”

“The puppy bites,” Erik said under his breath.

Will crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. “Well. I’ll just sit my schooled ass down.”

“And I’m getting up,” Daisy said, rising from the couch. “Come here and hug me, Opie.”

John blushed. “Fine, you can call me Opie,” he said, going over and hugging her. “Next year, no more Richie Cunningham bullshit.”

“Next year you will be the f*cking Fonz,” Will said.

“Damn right, bucko.”





Out of the Shadows


John went into Marie’s office with charm and a solution. He and Will switched roles: Will would dance “The Man I Love” with Daisy and John took Will’s place with Taylor Revell.

“Was Taylor all right with it?” Erik asked. He was walking Daisy up to the studios for rehearsal.

“She was,” Daisy said. “She was a complete sweetheart. Plus…” Daisy checked back over her shoulder and leaned in confidentially. “I think she digs Opie.”

“Win-win.” He slid his arm around her, brushing his mouth along her head. “Are you happy now? Happier?”

“Much.” They lingered outside the studio door, kissing, until Will came out and broke up the clinch.

“Ease off, Fish,” he said. “Excessive snogging makes her stupid.”

“I’m just getting into character,” Daisy said, smiling and letting herself be led away.

At Marie’s invitation, Erik sat on the floor to watch a few minutes and John sat by him.

“The Man I Love” was an elegant, romantic piece. Sensual, but in an understated way. While first rehearsing it with James, Daisy had said the partnering was a bitch. John had agreed. Now Erik watched as Will wrapped his body around the steps. It was odd to see him struggle. Both he and Daisy were struggling. As they deconstructed one particularly difficult lift, Will’s brow kept twisting in concentration and Daisy had on her war room expression. Erik looked on, fascinated, as they worked it out with Marie, flailing, dismantling physics. Gradually they stopped talking, and then stopped thinking.

Erik watched Daisy poised in the far corner of the studio. She was in her soft slippers, an elastic brace on her left ankle. She gathered her body and ran to Will and caught his hand. He lunged, weight low, as she threw her leg over his back, rolled like a cartwheel and came to a dead stop, poised on his shoulder in arabesque. In previous tries she held his hand for support. This time she let go right away. Her arms free, she relied completely on Will to turn momentum into stillness, convert the roll over his back into a pose on his shoulder. And he did it hands-free.

“How do you do that?” John said, holding his head. “How do you stop her right there? Jesus, I wanted to shoot myself with this lift.”

Will bent his knees and put Daisy down, not letting go until she had both feet on the floor. “I feel it,” he said. “She’s got those sharp hip bones. I feel them roll over my back and I catch the left one with my shoulder blade. Come here, Ope.”