17
Salomé
ICAN’T BELIEVE this. I’m standing here, gripping Dolla’s hand for dear life. We’re in the bottom two with Xavier and Diana. Either way, tonight is going to suck.
“It’s time for the dance off. Both couples will perform a jive and the judges’ new scores will be averaged in with the audience vote. First up, Xavier Viramontes with his partner, Diana Young.
Dolla and I head back stage to watch the shipwreck. Xavier grabs Diana forcefully and they start their jive. Diana looks beautiful, but a tad skinnier than she usually is. She’s been getting diet tips from Vika. Benny’s eyes are glued on her and I don’t think he’s even paying attention to Xavier’s steps at all. Xavier’s heart is clearly not in this—he looks like he wants to go home, dragging his feet across the floor and sloppily kicking his legs in the wrong direction. To be honest, my dear Diana isn’t helping matters. The choreography is too hard for Xavier and she put so much side by side moves which isn’t a good idea because then she can’t back lead Xavier when he makes a mistake. She tries to make up for it by dancing around him but unless Dolla and I totally screw up our dance, my darling Diana is going home.
Twenty minutes later, we are all back on stage awaiting our fate. Our routine went great, but there is no joy for me. Diana is going to lose it when she gets eliminated.
Matt reads the teleprompter. “One of the couples will move on in the competition and the other will be leaving us tonight. The couple with the lowest score when combined with the audience vote is . . . Xavier Viramontes and Diana Young.”
Diana bursts into tears—as I’d predicted. Sucks, with a capital “S.” Xavier, always the charmer when the cameras are on, leads her in a final dance, a jive I choreographed. She’s a pro, so she nails it for the audience, but she can’t fool me. The poor girl is crushed.
After the show, the audience mills around the room, some snapping pictures of us on their cell phones. Matthew signs autographs for a few young fans as the camera crew starts packing up.
Xavier and Diana head over to the judges’ table. Jenny rushes over to me and we run over to comfort Diana.
I hug our baby girl. “I’m so sorry. I wish I was the one to leave.” I mean it.
“No, you can win it.” She sniffles. Xavier is posing and giving an interview to a reporter. “I’ve just been having so much fun.”
Jenny takes both of her hands. “This is a good thing. You had your fun and now you can move on and start working on your relationship with Robert. He’ll be home soon. Sweetie, it’s all better now. You can get the life you wanted back again.”
Benny swoops in. Jenny and I instinctively flinch away.
“Diana, my dear.” Benny gives her a bear hug and holds her for just a tad too long. Jenny crinkles up her face as if she just sucked a lemon. Back at ya, Jen. Nasty!
“Good on ya, doll,” he says. He holds Diana at arm’s length, his gnarled old guy hands still on her shoulders. “My, have you grown up. I remember when you were just an ankle biter competing in juniors. Don’t worry, luv, you have a great career in front of you. I might even be able to get you a spot on Dancing under the Stars—down under.” He separates from her. “If you want it.” He winks. Diana watches him a little too long as he walks away. More than a little.
I grab her shoulders. “Diana, it’s just Benny, not Russell Crowe.”
Jenny makes a fist. “That man is so repulsive. I’d rather have scurvy than his hands on me. Diana, you stay away from him.” Jenny and I link arms with Diana and walk off stage.
“He’s not that bad,” Diana mutters.
“Yeah, and neither is swine flu,” Jenny replies.
In the press area, reporters swarm around Diana and Xavier, sucking our baby girl away from us. Not that she minds—her tears of moments ago are gone, replaced by a beaming smile. Diana clearly loves being in the spotlight. Life with Robert and baby will definitely be a change for her, if they get back together. Tim waves over Jenny and I slink to the edges, more than happy to do so. Our Di needs this moment. Bad.
There’s a rustle next to me, then Genya plants a kiss on my cheek.
“Genya!” I swat at him. “What are you doing sneaking up on me? The press is everywhere. Someone will see us!” Can’t anything be sacred?
“Relax. What’s friendly kiss between old friends?” He grins and I pull him farther into the shadows. “I told mama I’m back together with you and she’s super happy. She wants to meet and discuss future.”
“Future?” Already? Honestly, Genya’s one flaw is that he’s too quick to dive into things. And when he dives, it’s always from the high board—with his mother giving him a good shove. “But Dimka, it’s all so new. I don’t know what I want to do after this season. I told you Dolla is talking about maybe taking me on tour. He wants do this crazy show incorporating ballroom and hip-hop. He said maybe I could choreograph it.”
Genya snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous, Salomé. You can’t choreograph concert tour. The stars always run their mouth. Gina was always talking to me about how I could be on her soap opera.”
“You did do a guest spot on her soap. I saw it.” I catch Jenny glaring at me while doing an interview. Uh-oh. So much for shadows. A photographer spots us and turns his camera our way. I quickly throw my arm around Genya as buddy-buddy as I can and grin stupidly. Cheeeese. The flash blinds me, then the photographer turns away in search of more interesting posers.
Genya pokes me in the ribs. “You’re talking all crazy now. You’re ballroom dancer only. Mama wants to open new studio, here in Beverly Hills. We can run it, like we always talked about. For kids.”
We did always talk about it. When we were kids. “But Dimka . . .”
“I’ve got to run. I’ll text you later about lunch with Mama. She’s making your favorite pierogi.” Genya rushes off, accidentally knocking a camera out of a photographer’s hand. He vanishes after he weaves in between the rows of reporters and cameras.