The Dancers: An Artist Story

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The Dancers: An Artist Story Page 7

by M.L. Cameron

breath, I hadn’t seen a studio since before my last recital. The mirrors reflected a twirling Scarlett. Her auburn hair was pulled back, away from her face and her face was painted a pale mile-white. I loved having pale skin so I didn’t have to wear make-up.

  “Scarlett?” Luke said and she finished her turn before stopping.

  “What? Hi, Ana.”

  “Hi,” I said, seeing her for the first time. She really was stunning, she didn’t have the dancer build, but she was trying.

  “Scar… She can see…” Her eyes widened and she gaped at me.

  “You mean… She can see?”

  “Yes, I can see.”

  “Oh my gosh…” It wasn’t as if it made that much of a difference. I had talked to her for months. I just hadn’t been able to see her.

  “Hi,” I said again and Luke pulled me out of the room.

  “We’ll let her adjust.”

  We walked past the kitchen, the walls were creamy in color and green olive branches stenciled the floorboards. It was a very peaceful room, nothing like what I could have imagined. The stairs were covered in a dark green carpet, we walked up and to the end of the hall.

  The attic was dark, even when Luke turned the light on. The walls were purple, not light or dark, just purple. As I was accustomed to doing, I sat on the bed and turned on my side to watch him sit in his desk chair. “So…” I trailed off slowly. “Do you think it’s different?”

  “Maybe… Not that much. I’ve talked to you for weeks now. It’s not like all that much is changing. The only thing different is that you can see. Have you thought about dancing again?”

  I shrugged and turned away from him. I heard him stand up and walk over to me. “Have you?” he asked and I didn’t answer. “You have to talk about it eventually. Is that why you don’t want to go home?” He sat next to me and rested his hands on either side of my body, so I couldn’t just get up and walk away. “Is it?”

  “Maybe a little bit. My dad just wants me to be happy. And he thinks that dancing makes me happy. And I don’t know if it will anymore. I just don’t really want to go to home and listen to him tell me all about how I should get back into the sport.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  I shut my eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to go back to dance. I don’t think that it’s the right thing for me to do. I… Have no idea.”

  “Why don’t you think it’s the right thing?”

  “Because it just doesn’t feel right anymore. A good dancer can dance by themselves on stage, in front of thousands. A great dancer can dance with a group, or as an individual and be nearly flawless. An exquisite dancer can dance in any way they chose, mostly with a partner, for hours upon hours without letting up, and love it. I don’t love it anymore. I don’t dance with other people anymore. I don’t dance for hours and hours anymore.”

  He nodded and leaned down to touch his forehead to mine. “You’re going to do what’s best. And if dancing is what makes you happy, then you should try to pick it up again. But if you really don’t want to, then you don’t have to. It’s all about what you want Ana. Anything you want can be granted.”

  Why did he always have to say the right thing? Why did he always have to be so perfect? So amazing? So extraordinary? I took a deep breath and bit my lip. “I have no idea. Please… I don’t want to talk about dance anymore.”

  “What about where we’re going to dinner tonight?” I automatically looked up and caught his gaze. He laughed a little. “My father has taken a new look on me and on you and decided that we should go out. Of course I agreed because the other day your father told me I’m not allowed to take you on your birthday. Which you failed to tell is in three days.”

  “I hate my birthday,” I grumbled and suddenly Luke kissed me. I smiled and kissed him back. My fingers tugged through his dark colored hair and it was complete bliss. The feeling of being completely enveloped by the guy I was in love with.

 

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