➸ Chapter Nine: Celebrations

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Allie

I wake up early, only a faint glow from the sun is visible. As quietly as possible, I make my way to Zoe's room. Whenever I leave early for practice, she asks me to wake her up and read her a story. Her new favourite is 'The Giving Tree' by Shel Silverstein.

I push the door open and peek my head inside. Zoe's already awake, she's sitting in front of her bookshelf with a contemplative expression. She looks towards me and exclaims,

"Mommy, I can't decide what book to read."

"Shh, darling, we have to be quiet. We can't wake up Grandma."

She nods, her dark eyes solemn in the early morning light.

I sit with her, cross-legged in front of her bookshelf and make a few suggestions until she finally decides on a book to read.

"'Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the boy did. And the tree was happy."" My voice trails off as Zoe sleeps peacefully against my shoulder. I slowly slide her onto her bed and close the door behind me.

I make a quick breakfast, pack my things, and go.

I breathe in the chilly air and push my hands deep into the warmth of my coat pockets. The bus is empty and I arrive on campus with plenty of time to spare.

The leaves are beginning to fall off the trees and they blow across the air in a gold blur. I pull open the studio door and I'm greeted by a welcome emptiness. The studio is quiet and still untouched by the vigour of the morning. I place my bag down as lightly as I can but the quiet sound still echoes throughout the room. I step to the centre of the room and practise my warm-up exercises. I can feel heat steal into my muscles and warm my entire body. I take a deep breath as I prepare to practise my new routine. I select my song and hurry to my starting position.

I spin to face myself in the mirror before curving my body forward. My hair cuts across my vision and I lose sight of myself for a moment. I arch up and wrap my arms around myself. I can barely hear the music above the sound of my heart pounding. I lean back, one of my legs extending up into the air. The muscles at the back of my thigh ache as I hold the position for a few moments. I prepare for my lunge, my hands extending to either side of me. I inhale deeply feelings the cool morning against my skin. I lunge, feeling the weightlessness that always manages to take my breath away.

I land, my feet making contact with the floor just as the sound of clapping reaches my ears. I spin around and narrowly avoid losing my balance.

My teacher, Ms. Hathway, stands behind me, a small smile on her usually apathetic face. I had never gotten the feeling that she liked me very much. Never got the feeling that she liked anyone very much.

"That was...better than usual." I flush in appreciation, that was a practically glowing compliment.

"I accepted you into this program on the basis of your talent and technique."

I still. I can feel a 'but' coming.

"However," Called it. "You lacked energy, you lacked passion. You made me question if you truly loved dance."

I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to cut me off.

"But, in the last few weeks, you have truly excelled. When you are passionate about your dance, when you feel it in your bones, at the very core of your being, you dance like there's nothing you would rather be doing. Whatever has been inspiring you, seize it with both hands and never let it go."

I knew what was inspiring me, what would always inspire me. And that was Will. And I didn't want to let him go. But sometimes, fate, destiny, whatever you wanted to call it, interfered.

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