Variation

by Rebecca Yarros

By the end of that summer, she was my best friend. By the end of the next, she hated me. And I didn’t blame her.

“Follow your heart, and take care of what I’m leaving behind.”

No. I tried to scream, but nothing came out as Lina raced to the driver’s side. Didn’t she see the flames? What could possibly be so important in the car? Oh God, were Anne and Eva with— Boom. Heat rushed against my face and lit up the night. The car exploded.

Oh no

Everything in my life had led up to this moment. Every hour at the barre. Every broken toenail—and toe, every month of rehab after the accident, even the tendinitis that never seemed to actually heal. For this role on this stage with this company, I’d sacrificed my body, my time, my mental health, and any semblance of a normal relationship with the very woman I was desperate to make proud tonight. I’d sacrificed him. A familiar ache pulsed in time with my heartbeat, far more painful than the needle’s bite. Or had he sacrificed me? My

I fell to my right knee, the last position of the variation, and extended my arm to my onstage mother. I did it, Lina. I did it.

“You knew it had been torn in the crash? You knew there was a crash?” Every worst fear and ugly thought resurfaced. He’d known. He’d freaking known, and still hadn’t reached out. “All this time, part of me wondered if you were mad at me for not showing up that night, and that’s why you left for basic without saying a word. But you knew what happened to me?”

“I’m listening,” I assured her. “Why are you so certain your mom cares what I think?” Juniper swallowed and glanced back at Hudson, who looked as confused as I felt, then locked her big brown eyes on me. “Because”—she straightened her shoulders—“you’re my biological mother.”

“We’re on the same team, Anne. I want what’s best for Juniper and Allie. The only place our interests diverge is Caroline, who I will choose over you every time, just like you’d choose your own sister.” I gestured between us as I rounded the hood. “Same team. Stop trying to draw my blood. Leaving Allie the first time bled me dry already.”

Only one moment had soured my day, and I still wasn’t sure what to do about what I’d found in Gavin’s car. Or if I had the right or responsibility to do anything at all.

“But I will. First means nothing. Last means everything.” And that right there is why you get called reckless.

“And you’d better be ready to fold yourself into her life, because the only time ballerinas bend is onstage.” “I’ll fold,” I promised, my voice lowering. “I’ll turn myself inside out if it means I get to be hers.”

He drowned out the noise of the outside world by becoming the center of mine.

ugh.

“I’m Juniper Mecarro,” Juniper answered. “Sean and Caroline Mecarro’s daughter, but Lina was my biological mother. Or first mom. Or birth mom. Depends on what terminology you like. I prefer biological mother, but I reserve the right to change my mind as I grow.”

Messy is good, love. Messy is where the best parts of life happen. You don’t have to be in control at all times. It’s okay if you fall apart.

“It was me.” He took a breath, and I held mine. “It was me, Allie. I was there.”

forced his hand, he’d come to New York for me. “The middle seat of the last row is always empty. It’s in my contract.” Two lines creased the area between his brows. “And if you’d gone to will call and given them your name, they would have handed you that ticket. That’s in my contract too. It’s always your seat. Every venue. Every performance.

“There’s no one else.” His lips ghosted across my stomach and his hands slipped under my shins. “Never was. Not for either of us.” He kissed the crease of my hip, then dragged my knee over his shoulder. “They were all just placeholders.”

Wait and see how she feels after you confess what you’ve done.

“No.” He shook his head and looked at me like I’d grown two. “Who the hell do you think picked him up at the hospital that day? Me.” He tapped his chest with his hand. “I’m the one he called. I’m the one who had to coax the words out of him when he walked out of the emergency department covered in your blood. I’m the one who had to make up some bullshit story to our parents about why he wouldn’t speak for the next four days before he left for basic. So excuse me if I just want him to finally be happy!”

“I was leaving in four days, and Lina told me to take the ring and give it to you as a promise that whatever we started, we’d finish once I was out of basic training. She said it would be a message to your entire family that she had your back, and she was so certain you’d choose me because you loved me, too, even if you didn’t realize it.” My ribs did their best impression of a vise. “She was right. You did. And you don’t remember.”