Louis inches closer to me. “Why? I’m sure you have many friends back home.”
Sigh. Here’s the ugly truth about having an “impossible dream,” as Mom calls it. Very often, you’re alone with it. Your passion fills up all the space inside and around you, making it hard for anyone to get through.
“I have ballet friends, yes, but the rest of them…they don’t understand,” I explain. “Like my mom.”
“She doesn’t like ballet?”
I ponder this for a moment. “I think she does. At least, she used to. She was a dancer, and then she stopped. I’m not sure why. But she acts like I should do the same: have fun with it for a while, and then get on with real life.”
“Is that the worst thing that could happen?” Louis asks, serious.
“Umm, yes!” I stare at him, wondering if he’s messing with me.
“I’m sorry, Mia,” he says, raising his hands in defense. “I didn’t mean to…I just believe that you can love doing something, but it doesn’t have to become your whole life.”
“It does for me,” I say, unable to hide the hint of sadness in my voice. “I want ballet to be my whole life.”
He looks stung for a moment, but shakes it off before speaking again. “So what’s the problem? You want your mom to share your dream?”
I shrug. “I’ve been working so hard for so long, and she just acts like I’m not making the right choices, or something. A little support would be nice.”
“I get that,” he says. “My parents are the opposite of yours. They want me to have a passion, like they did at my age. They’re always pushing me to apply myself, to have more focus. But, honestly, I’m not sure I want to be like them.”
“Of course you have to forge your own path, but they love what they do and they just want you to feel the same way…”
“Maybe, but growing up, I sometimes felt like there wasn’t enough room for me. My mom used to call ballet my dad’s ‘real wife.’ Dad was always dancing, Mom was gone on film shoots for weeks at a time, and me…well…” He looks down sadly as he trails off.
“I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing his hand with mine. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“I’m sorry, too, about your mom. We’re just being true to ourselves, but they don’t see it that way.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head and thinking back to the many conversations I’ve had with Mom. “I’ve told her so many times. This is what I want.”
“Then she shouldn’t try to change your mind,” Louis says, his eyes full of compassion. “Besides, you look like you have plenty of fun already.”
He smiles at me, and I bite my lower lip, feeling charming and understood all at once.
“And your parents should get that one day you’ll find your true passion.”
“Maybe,” Louis says with a heavy heart. “Maybe one day I’ll find something that makes me want to jump out of bed in the morning, like you have.”
I laugh. “At the moment it’s more limping out of bed, because I’m so sore, but yeah. And I feel like if my mom were here, if she could see me perform, maybe she’d finally get it.”
“Hmm,” Louis says, a twinkle in his eye. “I think I need to see it for myself.”
“What?”
“You. Dancing.”
“You can’t!” I start. I’m about to go on a rant about how no one can know about us at school, that it could get me in all sorts of trouble, when the amused look on his face stops me.
“Here, I mean,” he says.
I frown. “Now?”
Louis grins. “Why not?”
We both look around. There are a few people at the far end of the room, but then again, a small audience doesn’t scare me.
“There’s no music,” I say.
“I bet you know the Swan Lake songs by heart. And all the other classics,” he says, making a cute face. I mean even cuter than usual.
I’m out of arguments, so I put my bag down against the wall, walk back a few steps, and turn to face Louis. He looks gleeful as he watches me get in position. My new dress clings to my thighs as I turn out my feet, and I catch him glancing at my legs. I smirk on the inside. This outfit might not be as comfortable as a leotard, but it’s pretty perfect otherwise.
I perform a short sequence I practiced over the last few days for the upcoming showcase, not taking my eyes off Louis’s, whose face brightens with each move. I piqué turn once, then twice, and, when there’s no more space between us, I wrap my arms around his neck. His own arms find my waist and pull me so close I can feel my heart beat against his chest.