All Bets Are Off

Chapter Nine - Ella Fordman: The Girl of Hope

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Dedicated to applejackblood for all of the support. I appreciate it!    

Shout out to HeyLoverboy. Check out her book Shoot For The Moon. You won't regret it :)  

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The next day was Saturday, meaning I had dance class. As we stood by the ballet bar and did our beginning stretches with the kids, Leslie was looking at me expectantly, and I knew what was coming. An unavoidable onslaught of questions about the night before. I hadn’t gotten to talk to her since before the date, and I knew she was dying for details.

            “So?” she asked, keeping her voice down low so that none of the kids would hear her. Her eyes were wide and expectant. “How was the date with Tobey last night?”

            I sighed, smoothing some hair that was tucked into my bun. “We had an unexpected visitor.”

            She frowned, her blue eyes crinkling in confusion. “What do you mean?”

            I looked around the room before bursting into an explanation, telling her about how Demi and Phoenix had arrived at the restaurant, and eaten with us. I told her about us trying to embarrass each other, and how neither of us really talked to Tobey or Demi. Then I told her about the drive home and the make out session, though I left out all of the super gory details. I doubted Leslie really wanted to know the full extent of that.

            Her eyes were wide as she tried to comprehend what I was saying. “Oh, my God!” she said finally, looking on the verge of laughing, even though the situation was not funny at all. “That’s amazing! I can’t believe Phoenix was there.”

            I rolled my eyes. “I know. God, it was so stupid, Les. I was so ashamed of myself.”

            She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, smirking. “Well, Tobey didn’t seem to mind.”

            I laughed with her, shaking my head at her behavior, before turning back to the group of girls and clapping my hands to get their attention. “Okay, girls. Now we have to practice our grand jetes. Can we all make a line? Leslie is going to show us how to do it, okay?”

            The next hour passed uneventfully, as we helped the little girls learn their dancing. It felt good to help people dance, but it also kinda brought me down about he Alessandro thing, as this was all just a painful reminder of the fact this isn’t what I was gonna do for the rest of my life. I’d really have to look for other dancing colleges if I wanted to do this in the future. But after the rejection letter, my enthusiasm for dancing had dimmed. But the girls didn’t have to know that, so I kept up the preppy attitude I’d always had since I began teaching dancing. I wondered if any of them would make it into Alessandro in the future. How many would still be dancing at my age?

            By the end, I was mentally exhausted, and I chatted a little with some of the parents as they all packed up to go home, keeping on my preppy demeanor for their benefit. Most thanked me, made a payment and then bid me adieu until Monday, when I’d see them again for another dancing lesson.