Voices of Chaos by A. C. Crispin, Ru Emerson Read Free Book Online

for me, okay?"
    "All right." Magdalena settled her shoulders, and her eyes wandered toward the Scaramouche holo-poster. "Dance is theater, too. Ballet isn't just dance, it also tells a story, like a play, or those gruesomely dull Arekkhi vid shows--
    what did you call them?--soap operas? Well, dance is acting, plus music, plus movement--even just the dancing up in the Spiral Arm." A sudden, sharp visual passed through her mind: herself and Prince Khyriz up in the Spiral Arm, both in plain blue jumpsuits, her showing him how to moon-walk to some twentieth-century music. He was better at it than you were, once he caught on, too. Comes of dance being so much a part of their society, of course. "Ballet is particular music, structured movement--and acting. Juliet--
    that was acting." She shrugged. "I--you feel joy at a good performance, or the music, or the audience.... but real emotion gets in the way of the performance, it cheats your audience, and it embarrasses them."
    Rob kept the faint, quizzical smile on his face. "I understand. Go on, please...
    more tea?" Magdalena shook her head; Bast circled twice and finally jumped down to pad under the desk. Rob poured himself another cupful, took another, now cold, biscuit, and busied himself with adding sweetener to the tea, spreading pale marmalade on the biscuit. "So-- what next with you and David? Or have you thought about it?"
    She shook her head. "He wants to apologize, wants me to say it's all right. At the moment--well, it's not all right. And he doesn't want to hear the truth anyway--that I don't feel like he does. Not yet, at least."
    "These things happen," Rob reminded her. "I'm just a little concerned about what looks to me like a pattern. Considering your background. You've had seven boyfriends since you've been here--but none of your relationships have gone beyond hand-holding."
    "You were the one who told me I had the right to say 'No' at any level of a relationship," Magdalena pointed out. "Including hand-holding."
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    "I still say that. I'm not trying to push you into anything, Magdalena."
    "And seven's not so many," she added. "Look at Ladessa, she's had at least nine guys that I know of! And Alexis--she's gone with maybe a dozen girlfriends."
    "True enough." Rob laughed quietly, and a corner of his mouth turned up in an abashed grin. "That's not the point. A girl your age should be comfortable with her hormones, and her attraction to boys--all right, or girls, if she's Alexis. Kissing. If I recall, you broke up with Charlie Menarti, and Aldwin Cho, because you didn't like the kissing part."
    Magdalena shifted, crossing her legs at the knees. "Kissing's just fine. I've kissed--well, I have," she added defensively as Rob eyed her. "Plenty of times, just--Charlie was first term and Aldwin is a sloppy kisser, all right?
    And if you had been me and David suddenly Frenched you without warning, you'd have yelled, too!" Her cheekbones suddenly red, she clapped a hand Over her mouth.
    Rob's eyebrows went up. "Secret's safe with me," he murmured. "You know that."
    "I know that," she said, more calmly. "It isn't---I don't think it's because of nasty, awful Elder Perkins and his grabby hands. I know when something leaves me feeling dirty, like he did. And I come talk it out with you, Rob, you know I do."
    "Sure. And you know emotions like that can disguise themselves, which is why I'm pestering you." He paused. After a moment, she shook her head.
    "Good. Keep in mind, you're eighteen years old, healthy--but you don't seem to feel the urges most girls your age feel."
    Magdalena laughed; her face and throat were still flushed. "Look, honestly,"
    she said. "The past two years, I've enjoyed hugging and kissing with a couple of different guys, but I didn't have enough in common with any of them to feel like doing anything more than that. Especially when I've got so little free time as it is. But my hormones are just fine. Fair enough?''
    Rob ate the last bite of his biscuit and