“Whoops.” He did a very cautious U-turn and pulled into the parking lot.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I jumped out and turned to look at Lance through the open door. “Thanks a lot. This was really nice of you.”
He smiled and seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing. “I know this might seem out of the blue, but do you want to go out sometime?”
“With you?”Oh man, why did I say that?
He huffed. “Yeah, with me.”
“Oh sorry. You just caught me off guard. Yeah, maybe. I just have to get through exams. Maybe during Thanksgiving break or something?”
“Okay, cool. Let’s keep in touch.”
“Sure. Do you want to exchange numbers?”
“Yeah, let me see your cell phone. I’ll put my number in it.”
Embarrassed, I said, “Oh, I don’t have one. You’ll have to call my house number. Here, give me yours and I’ll put it in.”
“You don’t have a cell phone?” He was shocked as he handed over his.
“I’m probably gonna get one for Christmas.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll call your house then.”
“Cool, thanks again for the ride.”
The studio where I had practiced since I was a kid was starting to look run-down. It was in a small strip mall and the landlords hadn’t painted the exterior or trim in twenty years. It was brown and dingy, and several roof tiles were missing. Whenever it rained or snowed, which was a lot in the winter, there would be leaks, which damaged the hardwood dance floor. I wished Nancy, the owner, could get some help but she seemed so overwhelmed all the time.
I reached for the glass studio door but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked, though I could see Nancy inside at the front desk, talking to a man and a woman. She saw me, stood up, and came to let me in. “Sorry, Penny, just having a little meeting. Come in, come in.” I nodded at the man and woman as I headed for the locker room.
That day I practiced mygrand jetéin front of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, a beautiful but difficult move in which the dancer leaps forward, legs turned out, hips squared, with the front leg pointed forward and the back leg turned upward. Everything has to come together; your shoulders have to be pulled back, your neck has to be long, and your arms, extended in clean, graceful lines. I leapt twice to get power and force off the ground. While I was in the air, Nancy walked the floor and yelled, “Extension, Penny!”
I hit the ground hard with a thud. Not very graceful.
“Again,” she said. “Again! Again!”
Each time it was getting better. I was feeling lighter and stronger and landing softer. My legs and feet were aching, but I wanted it to be perfect.
At the end of my practice, Nancy came up to me. “Great work today, Penny.”
“Thanks, Nance. See you next week.”
She smiled but said nothing.
4.Fourteen Years Ago
PENNY
At home that night I went down to our basement studio and practiced thegrand jetéover and over. At some point my dad came in but I hadn’t noticed. The lights were dim and I was doing the jump with my eyes closed; I liked to practice that way to prepare for the effects of stage lighting. When I stopped the music, he was holding his hand to his cheek, sitting on the bottom stair. I couldn’t see his expression so I turned on the light. He was crying.
“Are you okay, Dad?”
“Ahh, I’m just old and emotional.”
“Tell me,” I said.
“You’re such a beautiful dancer. It takes my breath away.” He started tearing up again.
