Rêveuse

Chapter 30.

July 2025

Alex helped me start dancing again. People loved the video of us finally finishing our performance of the routine. I started spending more and more time in the studio, just working through old choreos, working on new ones. I think I was better at it when I didn't feel the pressure of anyone seeing them. When I didn't have to think about what everyone else would be showing up to a competition with. I could put on any song I liked and I could start moving my body in a way that felt right.

It brought a smile to my face a lot more often. I'd smile walking into math class, having music playing in my ears as my brain made a choreography in my head that I would be trying out later. My mind was dancing all the time, as soon as there was music, there was like a doll in my head that I could move how I wanted it to, and it was dancing. Then I'd rush to the studio, or home, to stand in my bedroom and put the whole thing together to see if it looked as good as it did in my head.

Even my motivation for math changed. I was more motivated and it felt like my head wasn't as cloudy as it had been before when I looked in my math book. Sure, I still struggled, and I was behind, but at least I wasn't crying from frustration as I stared at a math problem I should've been able to understand.

Then one day when I was walking out of class, I heard my professor call my name, which I wish he hadn't because I had the dance room booked for the afternoon. He would just tell me the same thing again, that I need to focus and I need to work harder to be able to pass the class. He had told me before and I didn't want to feel like a failure that afternoon.

But next to the professor, in front of the room, stood Miles. He kept his hands behind his back and he smiled smugly at me as I walked cautiously to the front of the room. The professor put his glasses on his head when I came up to them.

"Céline, this is Miles, he's one of our best math tutors, he studies at Brown," The professor introduces us as if we haven't met. Miles extends a hand, playing along as if it is our first meeting. I hesitantly shake his hand. "I took the liberty of getting in touch with him for you to help you pass this class... I want you to succeed, and I think he can help you with that, there is nothing wrong asking for help."

"I'm sure I'll be able to help you out," Miles said to me. I still hadn't uttered a word, I just glared at him, pissed that he was standing there and talking to me as if our previous conversations never happened.

"Great! I'll leave you to it," the professor said before walking out of the room with a quick nod to us both.

"I don't need your help," I told Miles, turning around to walk away again.

"Your professor seems to think differently," Miles replied.

"He thinks I need help, I'm saying I don't need your help," I clarified before walking out of the room and heading down the hallway. I didn't want to miss a single minute of my dancing time.

"Do you want to pass the class or not?" he asked as he pushed through the door behind me and followed me down the hallway. I think maybe he liked following people when they were trying to walk away. Maybe he didn't like being left behind because it bruised his ego. But I scoffed as a response. "We got off on the wrong foot but we can start over and I'll help you pass this class and then you'll never see me again."

"Do you ever give up?" I asked, stopping harshly to look up at him. "Stop trying to be my friend or whatever you're trying to do, based on earlier conversations I am not interested in being your friend!"

"Okay! I get it! But let me help you as your tutor!" He said, and I scoffed out loud, because there was no way he'd just want to help me out of the goodness of his heart. It's not like he's just going to help me because he sees potential so bright that it can't go to waste. No, he has an agenda.