"In," I say, ripping a petal off a flower. "Not in." Another petal falls to the ground. This is stupid, I decide. I mean, it's not the end of my entire life if I don't make it to audition week. Right? Right? Cue crazy eyes and twitching smile please. It's been my only dream since I was four. I wanted to dance like the ballerinas you see on the television. I learned though, it took more than standing in your tippy toes and spinning to become a ballerina.
Although I was young, I was determined.
So I took a leap of faith into..well...ballet.
Sadly, not all my 'leap of faiths' ended up perfect. I broke my ankle trying to land on my toes after a jump. But it didn't matter much. It hurt but I dealt with it because in those mere seconds of being airborne I felt more alive than I ever felt. I needed to feel it again. I promised my parents, through no more jumps till I learned how.
"Hey baby girl! Why you looking so down?" My dad crouches down looking at me at eye level. I give a weak smile. "Ah the nerves! Don't worry sweet cheeks! I'm sure you'll get in!" He beams with pride. I shake my head, but him smiling.
Dads always have that effect.
"No dad. I have people who are much better than I am competing. It's a stroke of luck to even been called back to audition." I remind him.
"Ali! Tim! Get in here you two!" My mum calls from the kitchen. I get up and stretch my arms above my head and brush grass from my jeans. I run up the porch steps to the house and plop in a chair. Dad follows.
"When do we get the letter?" My mum asks. I smile.
"Tomorrow. If, that is, if! I get in." I say firmly. My mother claps her hands.
"So you'll be checking the mailbox all day long?" She asks. I grin. Pretty much.
YOU ARE READING
Academy Of Dance
Teen Fiction"Perfection is strange word isn't it? How can you define perfect?!" ---------- Violet has had a dream since she was four. To become a ballerina. Then she learned at the age of eight it took more than a tutu to become a ballerina. At ten she found...
