Between owning her own studio and being a single mother of two, why waste time on love?
Leila Ortiz has spent her 20s trying to build a better life for herself and her sons while the father of her children leads the life of a bachelor. Will she be b...
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Young Leila ran through the studio doors as quickly as she could. Opening the fire escape, she paced up three flights to the side window. Her fingers slid under the crack as she lifted the heavy frame in order to get inside. Stepping through, she spotted her grandmother staring her down while finishing off her bottle of water.
She rose up from her seat and spoke softly, "You're late."
Leila's head hung low, "I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, baby. Be on time. You don't want to make that shit a habit or you won't be taken seriously."
She nodded in response, "Yes, ma'am."
The train from her granny's shawl trailed the floor. "You've wasted warm-up time, so just take a few minutes to stretch and we'll get started."
Her heels clicked across the floor with each step. She pulled the radio from the top shelf and turned to the classical station. After her last stretch, Leila walked over to the bar and readied her stance.
"Have you been practicing at home?"
She hesitated. It was hard to practice in secrecy within the confines of her own home. With her mother breathing down her neck at every second, her technique could not flourish.
A sigh escaped from her lips, "Whenever I can..."
Margeaux looked down at her granddaughter's solemn expression and softly nodded. She proceeded to turn the volume on the radio and watched Leila move. She flowed with such precision that would put a prima ballerina to shame. Her expression failed to waver with even the most intricate of movements. Even without much practice, she still outshone Margeaux at her age. The ten-year-old showed much promise, but to her grandmother's disappointment, Elaine and Marcus stood in the way of any chance she would have at dancing.
No one really knew why the duo hated the idea of their youngest daughter wanting to dance, but they despised the slightest notion all the same.
Her thoughts took a pause once Leila produced her final Grand jeté. Looking at the clock, she was amazed that an hour had passed by so quickly. She held back a smile and stood up straight. Striding across the room, she strolled to the bar. Looking down at Lei's feet, their eyes made contact.
"You know your feet lost their point, twice."
Leila rolled her eyes as a smirk skimmed across her granny's lips.
"You can be as mad as you want. If don't keep your toes pointed, it makes your form look pissy and you'll bust your ass."
"Gee, thanks, Gram."
"You'll be really thanking me later. Let's go through it again, but I'll do it with you."
