Noah hadn't been terribly concerned when Violet told him Jeremy Ward was treating her to dinner. His dad had previously described Ward as "Aaron 2.0," explaining that he was even more business-minded and utterly detached from other people. He probably saw the dinner as repaying a debt. People can be surprisingly sensitive about owing favors.
Since Violet wouldn't finish rehearsals until 8 p.m. the following day, Noah decided to bring her dinner: a turkey sandwich on whole-grain bread. As a dancer, she needed plenty of protein to repair muscle damage.
He'd been to her studio dozens of times over the past couple of years, dropping things off, so he knew his way around. The receptionist let him go straight back. It was a few minutes to six; most dancers were packing up, but Violet was in the middle of a dance sequence.
A joyous smile lit her face as she pranced around with cheerful energy. Noah initially wondered how she danced without music, then realized she had wireless earbuds in.
That was clever. It allowed everyone to practice individual parts without distracting others. He knew most rehearsals were group sessions to ensure the scene flowed smoothly—Violet had told him—but he had to admit it was a neat trick. She'd probably started practicing alone after everyone else left.
He assumed her song ended when her smile vanished and she began massaging her cheeks. He chuckled at the abrupt end of her performance.
She was about to start another sequence when he called her name. Startled, she looked up, then offered a more natural smile.
"You actually came! My hero," she exclaimed.
"I told you I would. A turkey sandwich for the smiling Cinderella," he said, laughing.
She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, Cinderella has way too many facial expressions. I have to look tragic when she's bullied by the stepsisters and constantly smile during the transformation scene. That's just Act One! My face can't take it!"
Noah sat beside her against the mirrored wall. "You realize you don't need those facial expressions until dress rehearsals, right? You'll kill your cheeks doing it all the time."
Violet made a face. "It helps me get into character and memorize the sequence. I don't do it all the time, though."
She gratefully devoured the sandwich, sighing contentedly. He was glad; he knew she often didn't eat enough during rehearsals. Nuts, her usual snack, weren't very filling.
Honestly, he sometimes wondered how she could put herself through this for her craft. Dancer's diets were notoriously tough. But he knew his best friend poured her heart and soul into dancing. She'd been the most enthusiastic kid in her first ballet class, and that never changed.
He couldn't remember that far back, but video footage proved it. At Violet's first recital, the other kids struggled to stay in sync, but she executed everything perfectly, with a huge grin.
She'd also loved singing and playing the violin, but once those activities conflicted with dancing, she largely dropped them. She still sang along in the car and occasionally played violin to maintain her skills, but dance dominated her life.
Noah thought it was good for her. She wasn't always good at expressing herself verbally, but dance allowed her to do so perfectly.
He'd attended her senior college showcase; her choreographed solo captured every contradictory aspect of her personality—beautiful, calm, chaotic, joyful, and fearful all at once.
The dance department recorded the showcase, prohibiting audience filming; they planned to sell the footage to boost their budget. Noah bought a copy to rewatch Violet in her truest form.
"So, how did your date with Dad's minion go yesterday?" he asked.
He didn't really worry, based on his dad's assessment of Jeremy Ward, but Violet always told him about her dates; not asking would break their routine.
She swallowed a bite of sandwich and shrugged. "Super awkward at first, but then we talked about college for a while, which was fun. I haven't had a conversation like that since graduation."
Noah's heart sank slightly. She didn't seem deeply invested in Jeremy—as expected; she wanted romance, and he waswell, a machine—but they could discuss things Noah couldn't. He usually didn't mind not having gone to college, but when Violet talked about it and he couldn't relate…
He never felt inferior despite her higher education; she treated him as an equal. They'd had deep conversations for years, and she always said he was the only person she could talk to like that.
When he was younger, it made him feel special. Now, he realized they had the relationship she wished she had with Kaleb—likely a significant reason he was "brother-zoned."
"I bet it was nice reminiscing," he said mildly, masking his true feelings.
"It was. People are usually so difficult to talk to, but he wasn't bad after the first five minutes or so," Violet replied, finishing her sandwich. "Ah, that was exactly what I needed. Thanks! But now I need to get back to work. You don't have to stay if you don't want to."
Noah didn't have anything better to do. Going home meant watching a movie with his parents, and he didn't always appreciate their genre choices. Violet had introduced him to horror movies years ago, but his parents preferred spy thrillers, with their often unrealistic fight scenes. His time would be better spent watching her dance until they could play games.
"I can wait," he said casually. "I still need to beat your winning streak in UNO."
Her smile became cocky. "I'd love to see you try. Suit yourself. I'm using the loudspeakers now that everyone's gone."
He shrugged. "Go ahead. You know I enjoy ballet music."
Having a ballerina best friend and attending numerous shows had given him an appreciation for the genre. He usually listened to more upbeat music—like gym music—but classical ballet pieces helped him relax.