I shrug. "He's helping me out. Yes. Not asking me out."

"Do you like him better than Jim?" Chandra asks.

I roll my eyes. "I don't like either of them that way."

But her question makes me uncomfortable.

In my mind, I see Jim and Govinda side by side.

Govinda standing tall like the dancer he is, beautiful, serious, and as deeply in love with dance as I am; Jim with his hands in his pockets, a teasing look in his eyes, a cheerful glow lighting his face.

Jim, who's traveled the world and still finds me special.

Chandra sings, "Veda's in love with two men.

Who's she going to pick?

Veda's in love with two men. With whom will she stick?"

I ball up a tissue and toss it at her face.

BOLDER.

"Look at you walk,"

Jim says. "Can hardly tell you're wearing a prosthesis.

I'm so proud of you.

How's the dance coming?"

"I love the spring in my new foot and how much flexibility this leg gives my knee.

But I still can't do the full-sitting pose easily."

I sink as low as I can, knees out sideways, legs almost folded in two, showing him how hard it is to keep my balance.

Then I a.s.sume the lunge position: one leg straight back, toes on the ground, the other forward, bent at the knee, torso straight.

"Can't leap into this lunge position the way I'm supposed to.

Can't do any exercise involving it without falling."

"Not yet," Jim says. "Does the leg pinch? Rub your skin sore?"

"No, but I tire too easily."

"Veda, you'll build up stamina. Faster than you think."

Jim shows me squats to strengthen my left leg.

Exercises to help me work toward the poses I find difficult.

We spend more time together than usual.

He looks up at the clock and whistles.

"We need to stop, kiddo."

Jim runs his rough fingers through his hair and stares at his poster-filled wall.

His eyes dim.

He looks lonely.

Lost and lonely, like a stray puppy on the street.

Not the easygoing Jim who jokes with me.

"Something wrong?" I wish I could help him.

Wish I could be part of his life outside this room as a true friend would be.

"Just feeling a bit blue, kiddo.

I need to make some big decisions soon."

I blabber, "Maybe you need a cup of coffee? And some cake?

There's a nice cafe quite nearby-Java Joy.

Going there usually cheers up my friend Chandra."

"Good idea. Maybe I'll go there later.

Enjoy that leg until we meet again, okay?"

He turns to his computer.

I wasn't recommending he go there on his own.

Didn't he realize I was inviting him to go there with me?

I take a deep breath.

Jim stops typing and looks up, startled, as though he's wondering why I'm still standing around.

"Another question I can help with, kiddo?"

"I was trying-wanted to say-I wish-you-I hope that decision thing doesn't get you down."

I flee as fast as my new leg will let me.

SYMMETRY.

"Today, you'll be moving your hands instead of keeping them at your waist," Govinda says.

The cla.s.s twitters with excitement.

Govinda beckons to me.

"Please come up front?

I need your help."

He stands so close behind, I can almost feel his long fingers touching my back.

"Watch how Veda holds her head and her neck so it lengthens her spine.

I want you to stand just the way she does.

Imagine a line pa.s.sing from the center of your head, through your navel, down to your feet.

Every movement should begin along this line and return to it.

Hold your arms as evenly as Veda.

See the perfect symmetry with which her right hand mirrors her left?"

The lilting notes of a bamboo flute play a melody in my mind.

The remaining cla.s.s time flies.

A TIME.

to

SPEAK.

First day of school after the summer holidays, I pretend Govinda's standing behind me speaking about my perfect stance as Chandra and I walk toward school.

Inside the building, we part ways for the first time.

She hurries off to join the science-math-computer-engineering cla.s.ses.

I walk toward the history-literature-language section that's dominated by girls and boys who haven't got good grades or much ambition.

In my new cla.s.sroom, I see Mekha and Meghna.

The twins' long-ago insults ring in my ears.

Should we start calling cricket stumps something else because she has a stump?

"Look who's here!" Mekha calls out. "Veda!

Hey, Veda, does my hair look limp today?"

Meghna sn.i.g.g.e.rs.

I think of the little kids in my dance cla.s.s who didn't know any better laughing the first time they saw me fall.

Mekha and Meghna aren't innocent.

They're nasty girls who should know better.

The rest of the cla.s.s is quiet- waiting to see what I'll do.