Dance Your Troubles Away

Chapter Four - Lily

Chapter Four

Lily

"The problem is not making up the steps but deciding which ones to keep." - Mikhail Baryshnikov

My alarm goes off at six thirty, and I actually manage to sit up in bed and look around the dark room. I went to sleep at nine last night, because I didn't have to stay at dance until super late like I usually would. Storme wasn't even back from the studio by the time I turned out the lights.

"Lilyyy, turn it off," Storme mumbles, burying her face in her pillow and moaning, probably about how sore her muscles are. That's usually me. I try not to smirk, and switch the alarm clock off and climb down from the top bunk bed.

"Ten minutes," I tell her. "I'll make coffee."

I pad into the kitchen in my pyjamas and switch on the kettle, then grab the instant coffee from the top stuff. I hate the stuff, but Storme loves it and considering the long day she's about to have she probably needs it too. I'm just stirring the grains into hot water when Mum comes into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and pushing dirty blonde hair out of her face.

"Sam got a fever in the night," she says wearily. "I texted Isabelle's mum and she says Issy's got the same thing."

"Aw, poor them. Did he keep you up?"

"Yep - from about one to five," she sighs. "Smoothie?"

"Yes please."

Mum works from home at the moment. She designs costumes for well-known dance, theatre, and film costume shops, and often makes things by hand for people too. It's not the best paid job, but she's talented at it, and she's happy, so who are we to complain?

"Lily, Tracey from Atlas rang me yesterday night with a message from Miss Rachelle."

I gulp. I should have known this was coming. I prepare to be shouted at, but nothing happens.

"Lily, I don't mind if you don't want to dance," she says quietly. "But you should know you have serious talent. Miss Rachelle said that too. She said that your heart's not been in it recently, but that she'd give you some free privates if that would help! She still owes me for the group costumes from August. She said to let you know that you're out of showcase because you didn't come to the last rehearsal, but that you're always welcome at Atlas and..."

"Mum." I cut her off. "I don't want to dance at Atlas anymore."

"But you've danced there for years! You're a lovely dancer. Why would you quit? Do you want to move studios?" she says frantically.

"I don't want to move studios. I don't want to dance competitively anymore. Ever." She gasps audibly. "Look," I continue, "dancing is a huge part of my life that I'm never going to give up. The things I've learnt from it will stay with me forever, too. But if I'm going to dedicate my life to dance, I don't want to be a 'lovely' dancer. I want to be a strong dancer, a passionate dancer, who draws everyone's attention and makes them want to dance too. And we both know that's not me. That's Storme."

"Are you jealous of Storme?" Mum asks, like she's finally seeing the light.

"No!" I say, losing patience a little. "Well... maybe a little. But the point is that I don't need to be. I can find my own thing, that's not dance."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asks, as though I'm requesting to be led to execution.

"I'm sure."