The Final Pirouette of My Life.

The Final Pirouette of My Life [2]

Chapter 2: Love Me? Or Love Me Not...~

I was almost there. I had *almost* figured her out, this mysterious dancer girl.

Here's what I'd been thinking...

She's pretty-no, *beautiful*-and elegant, so she must have a beautiful and elegant name. Maybe one that ends in "ia." Mia? Tia? Lia? But none of those sounded *quite* elegant enough.

Secondly, she didn't just dance. She danced with *passion.* I mean, it really opened up her scars and let her emotions show and it was-she was-just so raw and soulful it blew my mind away. So I knew she must have a story. Something traumatic had to have happened to her. Something she'd never talk about; say it out loud. Something buried deep down inside her-trapped away and covered up for good, only slightly peeking out when she danced, and you could tell by that twisted, pained expression worn upon her face.

By the way she twirled fiercely I knew she was mad at someone. By the way her mouth tightened I knew she was holding something back. By the way her fingernails were chipped and bitten, I knew she had been stressing, but from that carefree swish of her arms I knew she loved to dance. I knew she'd never settle for anything less than her dream. I knew she was happen. Or, at least, happy when she danced.

I sighed, and adjusted my position on the damp, wooden park bench. I could just barely see her over the tip of the old, gray newspaper I was holding. It was getting dark, and a yellow street lamp allowed my eyes to see.

I could watch this magical creature until the crack of dawn...

Could I ever talk to her, though?

If so, I had so many questions to ask.

But for now, I'd just watch. Watch, and think, and imagine.

***

"You were, like, amazing today, Mar," Rebecca White slapped me a high five. Donna Leigh nodded in agreement.

"You're *soooo* gonna get the lead role."

"Thanks guys," I told them with a slight smile. "I really hope I do." Then I added, "You guys were great, too. Keep it up!"

Becca and Donna said thanks and then scurried off to pack up their bags. I, on the other hand, remained at a steady pace, my posture held high; never not graceful in Chateau Dansez even out of class. It was only when I was on the street I was clumsy. But... Dansez just kind of had this *air* about it, you know? It made you want to be the best you could be.

It was four o'clock on a Friday afternoon and our last dance practice of the week had just concluded. The set list of the girls who would make it to the Grande Gala performance would be posted tomorrow morning. I really hoped to get the lead role. I was by far the most determined. The lead role had so many solos, and I knew I could excel at them...

Mid-hope-and-dream-and-prayer, my cell phone beeped. Curious, I snapped it open and checked the texter.

Chad.

The little black block letters on the screen read:

We still on 4 din. 2nite? How 'bout that Italian place just off Granville st.?

Sitting down on the hard metal bench, I brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and speedily typed a response.

Sounds good! We haven't gone out for so long; it will be really good to talk with you again, Chad.

'Maybe we'll even have a deep conversation!' I'm getting excited now. 'Maybe on *this* date, Chad will redeem himself! Maybe... maybe we *won't* have a conversation about grated cheese!!!'

Wound up with excitement, I quickly gathered my things, did a quick, gleeful spin on my toes, smiling wide and openly, and rushed home. I only had an hour to get ready!

Maybe Chad won't end up being so bad after all.

***