The Dorm Guard 33 Chapter Thirty-Three: The Deaf Ballerina

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When I felt daring, I closed my eyes and focused on the brisk wind on my face, at times jolting back to awareness when one of my wheels encountered a pebble. The steep hill of the street allowed my bike to just roll with no effort on my part.

Aside from the sweat on the rim of my helmet and the itchy sensation of my chin strap, I was in a state of complete bliss. I missed riding my bike compet.i.tively, having someone next to me try to overtake me, the rush as the finish line gets within sight and we each made the mad final dash to be the first over the line.

For a split second, in moments where I'm just riding, I forget. It's for a short time, but I just forget. My heart is fine, nothing weighs me down, I have nothing to worry or think about, I'm only on my bike going down the road.

They were fleeting moments, and lately few and far between, but I craved them now more than ever.

The momentum of the road began slowing me down until I was balancing on my wheels before a studio building. I recalled Alexis' painting of Robyn, describing her as a ballerina figure, but this was the first time I had ever seen where she danced. While inconspicuous looking, the dance studio was a large white rectangle with 'Mademoiselle's Ballet School' written in an elegant pink ribbon. I found it amusing as the sign's cursive writing was designed to come from a ballerina's twirling ribbon.

The carpark had a handful of vehicles parked close to the entrance, but the two pink and red bicycles chained to the bike rack caught my eye. I walked my bike to them and placed it next to Robyn and Ava's, locking my bike in place and putting my helmet in Ava's basket.

As I entered the building, I tried to fix my helmet hair, only stopping when I approached the front desk. Manning the reception was a young lady with a clean, sophisticated look; black leotard, black skirt, pale pink long sleeves and a matching scrunchie tightly tying back her dark brown bun perched on her head. I couldn't see under the desk, but I a.s.sumed some ballet shoes were somewhere.

She didn't pay much attention to me at first, too focused on something on the computer and a phone call. I took in the lobby while I waited, strangely comforted by the light purple walls and colourful dance-themed artworks hanging above dark oak furniture. When I saw a small dollhouse pushed in the corner, I smiled.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked when she had finished her phone call.

"My friend Robyn dances here. I was hoping to maybe see her," I informed.

"Oh, you're with Robyn and Ava?" the girl asked, her voice perking up at the mention of their names.

I mirrored her smile, "Yeah, we're friends. Last day of the holidays and Ava told me to come down and see where Robyn spends so much of her time."

The receptionist had an elegant ballet walk. She seemed light on her feet, the way she guided me down the hallways a dance. "Robyn is such a beautiful dancer," she gushed. As we pa.s.sed doors, I caught glimpses of cla.s.ses, in one I saw children and in the next fully-grown adults. The studio was bigger than I antic.i.p.ated, as each cla.s.sroom had a tremendous amount of s.p.a.ce, and there always seemed to be another doorway leading to another.

"She's currently practising for her dance recital," Quin told me as she stood before the only dark wooden door in the hall. I saw a gold-plated sign above stating: STAGE THEATRE. "You are allowed to watch, but it's highly improper that you disturb any of the dancers."

I nodded my head, "I promise to be on my best behaviour."

Quin pushed open the doors for me and motioned me in, informing me she would be at the reception if I needed anything. When I walked in into the theatre was I greeted by almost complete darkness.

A large rectangle of light glowed on the opposite wall to me, an elegant stage casting a light on the dozen's seats before it. As I walked down an aisle, I could feel vibrations in the floor. Moments after, pretty music twinkled into the air, the stage's orange light changing to a cold blue as Robyn stepped on stage.

Like Quin the receptionist, she was dressed in a black leotard and white tights, her golden-brown hair tied up in a tight bun, not a strand out of place. As I got closer to the stage, she started her elegant steps, too engrossed in her dance and technique to notice me in the shadows. Her light pink ballet slippers glided across the stage as she twirled and leapt, the silk straps tied around her ankles and legs.

Unintentionally, I found the only other person in the auditorium. Ava sat in the fourth row a few seats across, watching Robyn's dance.

I shuffled down the seats until I made it to her, silently greeting her as I sat down. "Glad to see you made it," she whispered.

I sat up straight in my seat as I watched Robyn's dance. I knew nothing about ballet and dancing aside from pirouettes and plies, and even then, I got those from my sisters, but her technique seemed flawless, and she looked strong. I had never paid attention to Robyn's physique before but dressed in her leotard and tights, everything was toned and prominent. Her arms made graceful but robust movements, the way she arched her back, balanced on her toes, leaned drastically in all directions revealed how strong her core was. When she leapt, she cleared my height as she did the splits, landing faultlessly and continuing the momentum with other ballet moves.

"She's beautiful," I commented, looking to Ava.

Ava agreed, her eyes staying on her friend as she spoke. "She's been dancing since we were little. Tried to get me into it but I never had the resolve to maintain the ridiculous routines," she scoffed, shaking her head in amus.e.m.e.nt.

The music was as elegant as Robyn's dancing. However, it was also quiet, or at least quiet for Robyn's standards. The cla.s.sical music couldn't be blasted on stereos, so I wondered how Robyn was able to match the riffs to her movements. "How does Robyn know what part of the song it's up to?" I asked in a hushed tone.

Ava didn't answer for a moment, absently stating, "Can you feel it in the floor?" At the mention of it, I felt a pulse run through the soles of my feet and ricochet in the cushioned seat. "They turn up the base so that Robyn can feel it in her shoes. The floor in carpeted cement for us, but the stage is hollowed out chalked wood." Ava leaned back in her chair and sighed, "She remembers the vibrations and dances accordingly."

I blinked, "Whoa."

Ava's smile widened, "Indeed."

A flute started fluttering in the air, the quick trill prompting Robyn to start many twirls. She spun and spun and spun and spun and spun without ever seeming to stop. She balanced on the top of her shoe and threw her arms out, somehow making such an exhausting motion seem effortless.

"I know about the dates," Ava informed.

I was too distracted to understand what she meant. "Pardon?"

"Robyn's dates. I know about Timothy Carlington."

I paused. "She ended up telling you?"

"Robyn can't hide anything from me," she chuckled, resting her heels on the arms of the seats in front of her. "I know she doesn't want to tell me about it though."

I didn't know how to respond to her words, thankfully she continued. "It's kinda hurtful, I'll admit, that she doesn't feel comfortable telling me about it."

"What do you think of Timothy?" I asked, having never met him.

Robyn shrugged, "He's one of the boys in our group. He'd kind of been flirting with Robyn for a few weeks now."

I raised a brow, "Kind of?"

"Kid can't flirt to save his life," Ava joked, "And certainly not with Robyn. She can never tell what flirting looks like."

"Because she's deaf?" I asked.

Ava shook her head. "Not necessarily. I think she's just a bit of an air-head regarding romance," she admitted as Robyn fell out of her turns, "Wouldn't change that about her though. It's kind of cute." In the dim light, I watched her jeer, "Hilarious watching the guys flirt though."

"Does Robyn get flirted with often?" I wondered. I had never considered Robyn having romantic interests in anyone. I was ashamed that it crossed my mind it was because she was mostly deaf, but now I noticed it just didn't seem like a priority for Robyn. At least not before.

"More recently," Ava said, "Mostly from that Tim guy." She finally turned to face me. "That's actually what I wanted to discuss with you."

I furrowed my brows, "Discuss what?"

Ava seemed uncomfortable admitting this. "Robyn just seems… a little different, lately," she stated sadly, "Nothing too drastic, just quieter than usual." Ava turned her attention back to Robyn, in time to watch her make her way from one side of the stage to the other with precise and whimsical steps. "I was hoping maybe you could go on one of her dates, just to see what they get up to."

"Get up to?" I tried to hide my smirk, but all traces of amus.e.m.e.nt evaporated by Ava's serious tone.

"I still don't trust them, Landon," she stated, "If they just have a fluffy little movie date, then that's fine, but I want to make sure." Ava made an audible gulp as she crossed her arms and sunk down her chair. "I know I'm ridiculous but humour me. I don't want Robyn to get hurt or to get pressured into something she doesn't understand or is too meek to object to." She sat up and sighed, "She doesn't even like Timothy Carlington, she just didn't want to hurt his feelings because he's part of the group." Ava sounded exhausted.

I pondered Ava's request as I Robyn's song started to finish. Robyn's emotive expressions surfaced again, going beyond the expressions she makes when she's signing and defining every little movement she made. There were so many feelings and emotions in her final moves, a sense of innocence and naivety that reminded me of my little sisters. I understood Ava's need to protect her, the real qualities that made up Robyn and compelled everyone to marvel at her strangely simple daintiness.

I nodded, "I'll follow them to their next date, make sure there's no funny business."

Ava seemed able to breathe as she smiled and nodded, "Thanks, Dorm Guard."

The final note of the flute lingered in the air, creating an agonisingly beautiful final note as Robyn made her last twirl, placed her foot down and made her final pose, a poise conclusion to the otherwise flawless dance of the deaf ballerina.

When the silence stretched out, Ava stood up and started whooping, producing the bell and ringing it as she signed her applause. Robyn scanned the audience in search of Ava, eventually smiling and beaming a bright smile as she broke the dancer's façade she adorned and made a small bashful wave to us.

Ava stopped chiming the bell when a man dressed in black with long silver hair approached Robyn and spoke with her verbally, offering the occasional gesture in his critique.

Ava's request was now something I needed to do. Seeing that shy little wave ignited some strange protective instinct in me.

Timothy Carlington had better be a d.a.m.n gentleman.