Page 2 of Surprisingly Us

“That’s right. Have fun at the wedding.” Isabella closes her eyes and crosses her fingers. “I’m manifesting a hot groomsman for you to walk down the aisle with.”

“Thanks.” I don’t bother to burst her bubble that I already know who I’m walking down the aisle with and while he is very handsome, he’s also very married. All of Hannah and James’s wedding party is either married or in a committed relationship. All of them except me.

“We’re on for practice next week? For the Leg-Up fundraiser showcase?” I ask Sebastian.

As a volunteer and advocate for Leg-Up, a non-profit dance collective that focuses on providing free dance classes to financially challenged students, I’ve asked Sebastian to perform with me in the dance showcase at their fundraising gala in a few weeks.

He nods. “Sure thing.”

“Great. I already confirmed the studio times and sent you a schedule before practice today.”

“You’re on top of it, as always.” He picks up his bag. “You sure you can’t come for a drink?”

“I really can’t. My bridesmaid to-do list is too long.”

My best friend, Hannah Cartwright, is getting married tomorrow and while she isn’t a bridezilla, I’m her maid of honor, and taking my duties very seriously.

“Okay, I’ll see you next week, doll.”

“See you.” I start gathering my things when Alexei calls out to me from across the room.

“Colette, a word.” He motions me over.

Crap. It’s never good news to be called over by the choreographer after practice. My mind combs over today’s practice, wondering what I must have done wrong. Trying to anticipate Alexei’s feedback.

I’ve been dancing since I was seven years old, and with The City Ballet Company for the last eight years. Over that time, I’ve worked my way up the ranks of the corps de ballet to a soloist, and I know that principal dancer is within my reach. It’s what I’ve been working toward. It’s what I desperately want.

Alexei motions for me to sit.

“How are you feeling about today’s practice?” he asks.

I hate when he asks how I’m feeling. It doesn’t matter how Ifeelif he thinks my dancing wasn’t good enough.

I struggle to pick out a section of footwork that I could improve.

I chew on my lip before finally answering. “I know I could sharpen my pirouettes in the middle.”

He nods silently, but doesn’t look satisfied with my answer, so I attempt to find something else I can work on.

“The ending needs work?” It’s a question because I’m trying to pick apart what felt like was a flawless routine.

“Colette, there is nothing technical with today’s routine to improve. Your grace as a dancer is unmatched.”

My heart soars at his praise. It’s what Ilive for.

“Your technique is flawless. Alignment, turnout, port de bras. There’s nothing I can critique you on there.” Even though I can hear the ‘but’ coming from a mile away, I still flinch. “But where you’re excelling with your technique, you’re lacking in passion.”

He sighs. “It’s not enough to execute the moves, you must connect with the audience. Let them feel the emotion of the dance; joy, anguish, lust, rage,” he emphasizes each one with a balled-up fist. “Dancing is storytelling. It’s clear you know all the words, but you have to give them a voice. Dive deep into your emotions and let them pour out of you on the stage.”

I nod, taking in what he’s saying.

He must see something on my face, or a lack of something because his lips press together ruefully and he sighs. “Even as I’m advising you to find more passion in your dancing, I can see your mind whirring, trying to make sense of it. Trying to find a technical aspect to improve. But that’s not what I’m after.”

I nod, but I’m quiet, still processing what he’s saying.

“I noted your interest for the lead inRubies.”

“It sounds amazing. And so different from anything I’ve danced before.”

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