Archibald laughs. “Fortunately, that’s not the only good news,” he says. I forgot just how much his eyes twinkle when he talks. “Enrollment is up forty percent since Danceball. Next week LA Weekly is sending a reporter to do a photo shoot and an interview.”
“That’s incredible,” I say, and I mean it. It’s great to hear that something good came out of this experience.
“It’s all thanks to you, dear,” Maggie says. She means thanks to me and X, of course, but she’s too considerate to mention it. I wonder what X has told her about our breakup.
We talk for a little while about my plans for the rest of summer and NYU in the fall. I promise to stop by to visit before I leave and to find a place to keep dancing in New York. And then it’s time for me to go.
Archibald and Maggie hug me one more time before going back into the heart of the studio. Impulsively, I hug Fifi, and she surprises me by hugging me back and holding on tight. “You are very good dancer,” she whispers into my ear. “I was proud to teach you.” I can’t prove it, but I swear I see something like tears in her eyes when she pulls away.
Just as I’m about to leave, I spot the Instructions for Dancing book sitting in the back corner of the reception booth, where Fifi tossed it the first time I came here.
My heart trips. I know it’s not a coincidence that I’m seeing the book right now. I know I’m supposed to see it.
“Hey, Fi, can I take that book?” I ask, pointing at it.
She gets it and hands it to me through the reception window. “Of course,” she says, “but is very silly. Cannot learn to dance from a book.”
“I know, but it led me here, right?” I flip to the page with the La Brea Dance address on it. It seems like a lifetime ago that I walked in here hoping I was going to learn whatever lesson I needed to learn to get rid of the visions. The Evie that walked in here that day thought she understood how unfair life could be, and how painful. That Evie had absolutely no idea.
I put the book into my backpack and take one last look around. Down the hallway, in front of studio five, I see Archibald pull Maggie into a twirl. At first I think that they have no idea how lucky they are. But then I study the look on both their faces, a combination of wonder and certainty, and I know I’m wrong. They know exactly how lucky they are.
* * *
——
It takes me barely any time at all to get to the Hancock Park neighborhood. The street, when I find it, is still overflowing with jasmine bushes and jacaranda trees. The Little Free Library is still next to the big sycamore tree.
I get off my bike, flip down the kickstand and walk over to the library. All my books, including Cupcakes and Kisses, are still inside. The memory of X texting me as he read it makes me want to laugh and also to never laugh again.
I take Instructions for Dancing out of my backpack and stuff it inside.
“Hello, Evie,” says a voice from behind me.
I never told her my name, but really, how she knows my name is the least mysterious thing to happen to me in months.
I whirl around. Her face is the same as I remember: weathered brown paper.
“Why did you do this to me? How did you expect me to feel, watching people get their hearts broken over and over again?”
She smiles at me. It’s a gentle smile, an understanding one.
I don’t know if a smile has ever made me angrier.
I’m mad at her for cursing me with this terrible power.
I’m mad at whatever force created a world where we are born to love and also to watch the people we love die.
People who say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all have never really loved anyone and never really lost anyone either.
I want answers. I want to know—I want her to tell me—how I’m supposed to live without my heart inside my body.
My anger leaves me all at once. I just want to know why. “Why did you give me the power to see heartbreak? Please tell me.”
“But that’s not the power I gave you,” she says.
“What, then?”
“I gave you the power to see love. The heartbreak is just one part of it. It’s not the all of it. Why did you only focus on the ending?”
“Because it’s the most important part.”
“Is it?” she asks. “It wasn’t supposed to be a curse, Evie. It was supposed to be a gift.”
I start to cry and I’m sure that I will never stop. When I come back to myself, she’s still standing next to me.
“Will the visions go away?”