The Final Pirouette of My Life.

The Final Pirouette of My Life [1]

Chapter One~ One Lonely Soul in a Crowd.

Her soft white skirt floated around her like a blossoming flower as she twirled. Her long, black hair swished around her pale face and silver eyes. Her shoes were tall and white, with laces tied up tight in little zig-zags, and her tank-top was tight and gray, emphasizing her thin figure. The only splash of colour in view were her rose-red lips, slightly parted over her clean teeth, and the dim blue sky's light seeping in through the glass windows. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever witnessed.

The beautiful girl continued to dance, and spin, and jump and leap and stretch in ways I didn't know where possible... and finish it off with a clean landing on pointed toes.

I wished I knew her name.

I wished I knew her *story*--she had to have a deep and soulful one to be able to dance like that.

But I was powerless to investigate. All I could do was stand here, in the cool dusk air, peering through the window at the empty studio and the one girl, dancing alone, doing beautiful spin after beautiful spin.

If I couldn't be part of the magic, I could be a silent audience to it.

***

"Excuse me!" I shouted over the morning rush. Then, into the silver cell phone clutched in my right hand, "No, not *you,* Chad." To the cup of caramel coffee squeezed in my left hand, dribbling down my thumb, "Shit." I gave the coffee cup a look of death.

Gosh, it was *chaos,* my life was. Complete and utter madness.

The only time I could possible ever escape was after dinner, when I'd sneak out into the dance studio and just completely let my emotions go-portray my mind with my body. That was my only peace and quiet. That was my only vulnerability worn on my sleeve. I was glad I was alone, so no one could see the raw emotions pouring out of me like a waterfall. That... that was the only time I could let the tough girl take a rest and be the sweet, scared, emotional Maria I truly was inside-I *had* been before... what happened.

But I didn't want to think about that right now. Right now, all I wanted was to cross this intersection, take a left, walk through the doors of Chateau Dansez, my academy of dance run by a strict French heiress, plop my giant, heavy, gray bag down and slip on my ballet shoes and *dance.*

That's all. Was it too much to ask for?

Apparently so, as my coffee lid begun undoing itself from the cup and a man stepped on my sneaker's lace, and Chad's irritating voice demanded, "Ria, where *are* you? I thought we were going for breakfast at iHop?"

"No, Chad," I huffed, yanking my foot away from the man and-oh great, now my caramel machiato was spilling onto that lady's dress shoe. Crap. I gave an annoyed sigh. "I *told* you, I have a dance show coming up in only one month. It's the biggest show of my life and I want to make it perfect. *Critics* will be there, Chad. *Critics.* This show could make or break my whole career as a ballet dancer. I've *got* to practice for it..."

"Ree, but couldn't you just-"

"Oops; got to cross the street now. Bye, Chad." I clicked END CALL before he could protest.

I tried not to sound snotty, but sometimes it was hard with Chad. He was just so... forgetful! And persistent!

*But* he was extremely handsome. And, he was Vivica's (previously explained as Strict French Dance Teacher's) son.

I was dating him before I knew this of course. I mean, that would be just *horrible* to use him like that! No, no, no.

But... now he's become my lifeline. And... if I let him go I let my top spot in the dance academy go down the drain and then Vivica won't let me perform and then I'll never get discovered and I'll end up *working* at iHop!

It was all so tricky. I was easily the best dancer in the academy, but if Vivi thought I'd broken her little baby's heawt, I'd never be allowed back into the elite, exclusive, top class, other synonyms for BEST, school of dance there was.

Unfortunately for me, however... my heart just wasn't in it. In Chad, I mean. He was an okay guy, but just so... plain. He wasn't soulful, deep, *or* compassionate-the three qualities I looked for in a life partner.

'Life partner.' What am I, eighty? God, I need to chill for a second. I'm only seventeen, for God's sake! But... I mean, if I already *know* he's all wrong for me, why pursue it? Why keep going?

Through all my worries and scrambled thoughts I was focusing on somehow my feet managed to unconsciously drag me across the street. I was now just approaching the big glass door that read 'Chateau Dansez' in black italics, and pushing it open with my elbow I was inside.

The thing that always hit me first was the smell. You wouldn't believe it, but wooden floors, mixed with fruity hair shampoos, deodorants, hair sprays, new uniform fabrics, lip glosses, sweat, smelly shoes, and various coffees lying around was actually the most comfortable, relaxing, soul-calming smell I knew.

It was the smell of passion. It was the smell of dance.

"One, two, three, four-and one, two, three four-and," Vivica chanted sharply from the other room. I quickly found a bench to deposit my things and took a swig of the now lukewarm coffee before kicking off my old runners and placing on pale-pink (almost *white* to the oblivious onlooker) ballet shoes in their place.

Off came my dark purple wrap-around sweater and baggy jeans. On was pulled the tiniest white skirt you could ever imagine. I was left with this skirt, pantyhose, and a gray bodysuit. I tightened my high black bun as I walked in.

"A-one, two, three, four-and-Maria, come, in-and-a one, two, three, four," she continued to chant. I obeyed, and danced gracefully with the other twenty girls, doing perfect plies and double-toe twists. It wasn't that I wanted to show off and be the star. I was just doing what I loved.

Finishing the routine, twenty perspiring girls rushed out for a drink of cool water. I stayed, and stretched my thin, white arms and mile-long legs.

"Maria," snapped Vivi, turning off the silver CD player that had been reciting a classical piano. "Why were you late." She states it as if it's a fact, rather than a question. Vivi *never* asked questions.

"I just woke up a bit later than usual, Mrs. Rigorenne," I replied earnestly while stretching my neck.

"Ah." She frowned. Now, if I were any other student I'd be expelled on the spot. But since I'm *Chad's* girlfriend, Vivi merely shrugged, and turned her attention to the other girls, hollering, "QUIT WASTING TIME! WE'RE STARTING THE ROUTINE IN A-ONE, TWO-THREE, FOUR..." She clapped her hands and twenty obedient ballerinas scurried back into the studio, trying to catch up with the routine in a hurry.

"You all suck," announced Vivi in her proper French accent, pausing the music in the middle of a triple pirouette. Groans sounded around the room.

"Maria?"

"Yes, Mrs. Rigorenne?"

"Show them how it's done. A-one, two, three, four-and-"

And as the sweet music filled my ears I danced. I let myself go completely, my mind becoming my arms, legs, and hips, and suddenly I was free, and no one was there or watching me. No one could know how I felt when I danced. No one really knew what I felt inside.

No one...