Hey guys! Sorry its split up!!
hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!
I would love some reads, votes and comments. If you dont like my story: constructive critism is always welcome as long as its said respectfully. If you just want to bash someones story.. shame on you, many writers work very hard and being mean, is well, mean!
LOL
anyway hope you enjoy :)
~Hannah
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“You never know, God could be saving all your luck for tomorrow.”
I snorted at her comment, don’t get me wrong, its not that I hate God or anything (well I’m not really religious). But after all the stuff I’ve been through, it’s hard to believe someone is up there looking out for me.
“Now, make an old woman happy, and dance for me.”
I let out a small laugh, already feeling better after our conversation. “Of coarse, let me just get my pointe shoes.”
I walked over to my dance bag, and reached inside the compartment my shoes are usually in. No shoes.
“No no no. This cant be happening.” I said, as I frantically searched by bag for my dance shoes.
“What’s wrong?” Maura asked me.
“I lost my pointe shoes, I have no idea where—“ Then it dawned on me. I left them at Barnard. “I’ll be back soon.” I called to Maura, already running down the stairs.
“Where are they?”
“At my dance studio.” I said without thinking. It wasn’t my dance studio anymore, though.
I took the subway to the studio at Barnard. My plan was to get in and out without anyone noticing. I didn’t want to face all the questions, or worse the pitying stares. I didn’t want their pity, I didn’t ask for their pity!
I walked in the building keeping my head down and shuffling my feet. I managed to get to the viewing room without seeing anyone, but when I got to the viewing room I ran into a group of guys. They looked familiar; I had probably seen them on my daily jog or something. I shuffled past and let out a breath when they didn’t acknowledge me. They were too busy commenting on all the fit girls, and pointing out the ones that were ‘really fit’. Ummm, hello, we are dancers of coarse we are in shape!! (A/N: I know fit means hot… but Al doesn’t)
I walked down to Ms. P’s cluttered office, knowing she would have kept my shoes for me. I was hoping I would be lucky and she would be off off teaching a class or something, I wasn’t ready to face her yet.
But luck hasn’t been very reliable lately.
“Al,” She said as I walked in. “I was hoping you would drop by.”
“Well, I need my pointe shoes back,” I said, a little harsher than I meant to.
“Well, before you leave, I have some good news I want to talk to you—“
“If you are not about to say the scholarship is back, then I don’t want to here it.” I really didn’t mean to sound so rude.
“Well, you see, I know you were planning on attending Barnard, but I was approached by someone who saw you dancing here, heard about the scholarship losing is funding, and was wondering if you might want to apply to their school instead.”
