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Alistaire.
"Jessi!" Mary Anne exclaimed.
"Where you you going?" asked Stacey.
"Well ... I was hoping to go to Lincoln Center," I began. "But I can't go there alone. I was wondering where you are going today." "To the Children's Museum," replied Mary Anne.
"Is that near Lincoln Center?" I asked.
"No," said Laine.
I must have looked as disappointed as I felt, because Mary Anne immediately said, "You know, the kids might like Lincoln Center. We could go there first and then to the museum. Is that okay with you, Jessi?" "Sure!" "Good idea," added Stacey. "I don't know if Rowena and Alistaire will be interested in the theaters, but they can see the fake Statue of Liberty that's nearby. It's fun to look for. And I think they'll like the fountain." So we set off for Lincoln Center.
When we were standing across the street from it, Laine pointed to the complex of buildings and said, "There you go, Jessi." I gasped.
"What?" shrieked Mary Anne. "A roach? A rat?" I giggled. "You sound like Dawn. No, it's just that Lincoln Center might be the most beautiful place I've ever seen." "Look at the fountain!" cried Rowena, pointing.
But I was looking at the Metropolitan Opera House, at the New York State Theater, at Av-ery Fisher Hall, at the Vivian Beaumont Theater, at the Juilliard School, at Alice Tully Hall. It was hard to believe that those wonderful places — and more — were located in one complex of buildings.
We walked across the street, my mind filled with thoughts of grand performances — plays, ballets, operas, the New York Philharmonic.
"I've just got to see a ballet," I said to Stacey. "And I think there's a special afternoon performance today. I'll stay with you until it begins, and then you guys or Laine could meet me when it's over. . . . Puh-lease?" So that was how I wound up in a seat in the New York State Theater, watching the New York City Ballet perform Swan Lake.
I was in awe. At one point, I even found myself holding my breath. The dancers, their costumes, the wide stage . . . Now I couldn't decide which was more beautiful — Lincoln Center or the scene before my eyes. ' When the curtain came down at intermission, I sighed happily.
"Like it?" asked the person sitting next to me.
I'd been so engrossed in the ballet that I hadn't even noticed the boy on my right. He was about my age, with dark, curly hair, wide brown eyes, and skin that was just slightly lighter than mine. And he had the long, lithe body of a dancer.
He was THE most gorgeous guy I had ever seen.
I couldn't believe he was talking to me. Boys never notice me, and I almost never notice boys. What do you say to a boy? At least I had an answer to his question. "Like it?" I repeated. "I love it! It's incredible." The boy nodded. "Every time I see it, I like it better." "See what? This production? Do you live here in New York?" "Yeah. This is the fifth time I've been here. I mean, to see Swan Lake. I'm going broke, but it's worth it." I took a chance. "Are you a dancer?" His face reddened. "Um . . ." "Because I am. I've studied for years. I live in Connecticut, though." Now he grinned. "My name's Quint." "I'm Jessi." (Talking to boys is easy, I thought.) "And I love ballet," Quint went on.
"Well, are you a dancer?" "Yes," Quint replied, looking pained. "I take lessons on Saturdays. My teacher says I'm good enough to get into Juilliard." "Wow!" I was impressed. Juilliard is a famous school of the performing arts, and getting into it isn't easy. "That's fantastic. When are you going to audition?" Quint looked away. "I'm not," he muttered.
"Oh. Really expensive, huh?" "No, it's not that. You don't understand. You're a girl." (What did that have to do with anything?) "And you're a boy," I said.
"Exactly. The guys in my neighborhood tease me all the time. When they found out about the dance lessons they began calling me a sissy. Now I have to sneak to lessons. Once a week is hard enough. Can you imagine if I went to Juilliard full-time?" "Yes," 1 answered firmly.