Bad For You

fourteen

The table is silent, the only sound the clinking of silverware. I wonder if this is as awkward for her as it is for me. I twirl my pasta around my fork, but I can't bring myself to eat it. My eyes wander over to the grandfather clock, which seems to be ticking more slowly than ever. I can feel my mother staring at me, and she clears her throat. Finally the silence becomes unbearable.

"I'm not hungry," I shove my chair back and stand. "I'm going to my room."

I turn to leave when my mother speaks. "Sit," she commands.

I stop in my tracks and slowly turn around. She picks up her wine glass and takes a sip before raising a brow and indicating for me to sit back down. I blow out a breath and do what she says, mostly because I don't feel like getting into another argument right now. 

"So how was school?" She asks. I furrow my brows.

"Fine...?"

"And practice?"

"Good...it was good."

My mother hums. "How is Noelle doing?"

It turns out Noelle did indeed sprain her ankle on the class trip. Her mother was so furious she threatened to sue the park and the school. Now she was on strict orders to stay off her ankle if she wanted it to heal properly so she could dance again.

"She's fine. Unhappy but fine."

"She should be grateful all she did was sprain it."

"Yeah..." I'm not sure where this conversation is going and to be honest I'm nervous. My mother looks me over before glancing away.

"Your father was my partner."

My body freezes. "What?"

"He was my partner," she repeats, her gaze meeting mine. "In ballet."

It feels like I've just been slapped. My dad was a dancer?

"I hated him at first," my mother continues. "Absolutely couldn't stand him. His ego was so big it barely left room for anyone else's. And he was a cocky son of a bitch. He knew he was and talented and good looking, and he never missed an opportunity to let everyone around him know it. We clashed like oil and water. But I guess there really is a thin line between love and hate. I went from hating him to loving him so much it felt like I couldn't breathe without him. We had so much chemistry, and it showed whenever we danced.

I don't move a muscle, holding my breathe as she speaks.

My mother looks off into the distance, smiling sadly. "We had all these grand plans after we graduated. We would travel the world together while dancing, becoming the greatest ballet partners in the world. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't," she takes a shaky breath. "When I found out I was pregnant, it felt like the world was collapsing in on me. Just like that, all my dreams were gone. I was in denial at first. Even deluded myself into thinking we could still make things work. But when I told your father he looked at me coldly and told me to abort it."

I inhale sharply.

"I was so scared to lose him and everything I worked so hard for I stupidly listened to him. I went to the clinic without telling anyone, not even my parents,  and planned to abort you. I was so scared and all alone, and I'd never felt smaller in my life as I sat in that cold, stiff table and waited for the doctor," my mother exhales shakily. "But then everything changed in the blink of an eye. When he took my ultrasound and I saw you, I just knew I couldn't go through with it. I knew I would set the world on fire if anyone ever tried to hurt you or take you away from me. And that included your father. So when I told him I wasn't getting an abortion, he broke up with me. Told me he didn't work as hard as he did to get to where he was only to have it all ruined for a 'mistake,'" her eyes become hateful. "When the truth came out, I was the one who was shamed and ridiculed. I was the one who took the brunt of the fall. He even denied it was his baby. But it was his. I'd never been with anyone else."