Pirouette [h.s.]

chapter 33

// Ballerina girl, you are so lovely.

I can see in you, my dreams come true. //

"Ballerina Girl" -Lionel Richie

4 Months Later

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Six months ago, I thought that my entire life was over. January 14th, I fell down on that stage, splinters of wood stabbing up into my heart, and I thought that's where Phoebe ended. Phoebe was over, and I was destined to be the shell of a ballerina. Just another dancer who got injured and was forgotten. Left in the shadows, in the dust that collects behind the curtains of the auditorium. Destined to hang up my pointe shoes in the back of a closet where they would never again see the light of day.

But...a lot can change in six months. And Harry always reminds me that change isn't a bad thing.

Standing at the front of the classroom, the glass of the mirrors cool against my back, I watch as the young girls file in. Each of them is wearing some combination of black, pink, and white leotards and tutus. They look so damn cute I can't help but smile.

Working with the girls has easily become a highlight of my weeks - helping to mold them into blossoming ballerinas. They're always eager to show me how hard they practiced at home while they were away, and I love getting to see their dedication pay off. In the big ways - when they finally remember where the positions are, or when they remember to point a toe. But also in the subtle ways - when one quickly jumps in to help a friend with a position, or when they don't need me to stand in front of them to demonstrate. Watching little tongues poke out in concentration as they stare at their own reflection in the mirrors. Hearing tiny exclamations of "yes!" when they do something they're proud of.

"Hi, Miss Phoebe!" Their chorus of greeting pulls gentle laughter from somewhere deep in my lungs. This room, this studio, feels so welcoming. Dancers, teachers, parents, staff. Everyone is here due to a love of dance. Like all of our hearts beat for the same reasons. It feels like home.

Home.

Harry and I moved into the pink shutter house almost immediately; him, Tate, Luna, and David forcing me to take it easy when I tried to help carry furniture inside.

"Hey, just go sit pretty and boss us around - tell us where to go and we'll listen. Your words are gospel." Harry widened his eyes in the direction of the front door pointedly when I tried to help carry his box spring inside.

I rolled my eyes and he kissed the side of my head while squeezing at my waist to make me jump. "I'm not incapacitated, I can help, y'know."

"I know you can, Bee, I know. But why don't you direct us where to go, otherwise we're just a bunch of brainless idiots. We need a leader."

Luna came up behind him, whacking the back of his head with a fake plant. "Speak for yourself, Halibut."

"Fine, you're not a brainless idiot, but your boyfriend? He's the worst." Harry's tongue poked out from in between his teeth as he teased Lune.

She nodded in response, raising her eyebrows. "You're telling me!"

"Heyyyy!" Tate whined as David and him walked past, juggling a dining room table between their hands.

"It's a good thing you're pretty, buddy." Harry pouted, sticking up his middle finger at his friend. Turning back to me, he wiped the smug look off of his face. "Now, would you put that leg up somewhere and take a break?" Reluctantly, and with a handful of bribing kisses, I listened, wandering back into my new home with a lamp in hand.