Look Both Ways(47)

She chose me, I think as I watch the rise and fall of her chest, and it’s more validating than any affirmation I could scream in front of the mirror.

I’m on my way over to the scene shop when my phone rings, and I smile when I see my mom’s picture on the screen—for once, I actually have good news to share. But I barely manage to get both syllables of “Hello?” out before she starts talking.

“Brookie! I’m so glad I caught you! Marisol had the babies!”

“Oh my God, when?”



“Last night around four. I wanted to call you then, but I figured I should let you sleep.”

Even though nobody can see me, I blush a little thinking about what I was doing at four in the morning. “She wasn’t due for another two weeks, right?” I say. “Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s perfect. The babies are just beautiful.”

“What are their names? She didn’t really name the boy Pierre, did she?”

“The girl is Jasmine, and the boy is Owen,” my mom says. “Christa talked her out of ‘Pierre’ at the last minute. Honestly, I thought it was kind of cute.”

“Are you at the hospital now?” I ask. “Can I talk to them?”

“Marisol’s sleeping, and Christa went to get coffee, but they said to tell you they love you and they can’t wait for you to meet the twins.”

“I can’t wait to meet them, either. I wish I could come home and see them right now.”

“I wish you could, too,” Mom says. “How’s everything going up there? You sound a little tired.”

I feel a goofy smile creep over my face. “Everything’s good,” I say. “Really, really good, actually. Pandemonium was last night.”

“Oh! I forgot that was coming up! Did you have a fantastic time? Do they still have the cage? Did you dance in it?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” I say, and my stomach does a flip as I think about pressing against Zoe behind those bars. “I only have a couple of minutes right now, so I’ll tell you everything later, but…um…I think you were right about Zoe and me.”

“I knew it!” my mom shrieks. “Brookie, that’s wonderful.”



I can’t remember the last time I had her wholehearted approval for something I legitimately accomplished, and it feels like sinking into a warm bath. “It kind of is, isn’t it?” I say. “I don’t think there’s anything superserious going on, because of Carlos and whatever, but she did say they have an open relationship, right? And I like her so much, and I think she really likes me.”

“I like her so much, too. Wait till I tell Dad! Or do you want to tell him yourself?”

“It’s okay, you can tell him.” I’m at the door of the scene shop now, and I see Russell approaching from across the lawn. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. My crew call is starting.”

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” my mom says. “You’ve always seemed so resistant to dating girls. Allerdale is really opening up your world, huh?”

“I guess. I’ll talk to you later, Mom. Give my love to everyone, okay? Tell Marisol and Christa I’ll call them soon.”

“I will. We love you back,” she says, and I hang up.

Russell catches up to me, looking bleary-eyed and rumpled. “It should be illegal to make us come to work this early after Pandemonium,” he says.

“Seriously. I hardly slept.” I feel wide awake, but I think I’m running on pure adrenaline.

“Did you know ducks sleep with half their brains at a time so they can always be on the lookout for predators?” Russell says. He rubs his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair, which makes it stick up in a million different directions. It doesn’t look like he washed it this morning.



“I did not know that about ducks, but it doesn’t surprise me that you do.” I reach up and pat him on the shoulder, and he gives me a weird look.

“What’s with you?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You look so…happy. Nobody’s happy at nine in the morning.”

Part of me wants to tell him what happened with Zoe—I think he’d be pleased for me—but another larger part loves having a secret with her. So I say, “I am happy. I have a new niece and nephew! They were born last night.”

“Oh, wow. Wait, both at once?”

“Twins,” I tell him. “Jasmine and Owen. So cool. Come on; let’s go inside.” I link my arm through his. He looks a little bewildered by my enthusiasm, but he lets me tug him toward the theater.

I spend the entire morning painting escape stairs black, but I barely register the work in front of me. All I can see are Zoe’s eyes inches from my face, Zoe’s tattooed back under my fingers, Zoe’s hair sprawled across my sheets. A couple of times, I find myself singing without even realizing I’m doing it. At lunch time, I dash over to Haydu, where Zoe’s in Birdie rehearsal, and peer through the window of the dance studio. It seems insane that we’re both spending our days doing normal things like painting and learning choreography when such a seismic shift has occurred between us. I should be using this time to get food, but instead I wait outside the door for half an hour in case Zoe’s choreographer gives them a break. I send the universe an image of us sneaking off into a stairwell and murmuring about how perfect last night was. But the girls are still dancing when it’s time for me to go back to work.