by Addison Jane
I knew that despite us being complete opposites, we both had this strange understanding of what the other wanted. She knew I didn’t want to be here, spending so many years of my life studying to be something that I would forever despise. But just like me, neither of us would oppose our father.
Where I played the part of the perfect daughter, she lived it.
Maybe I should go into acting.
Leah and I drank our coffee, chatting about classes and upcoming events.
Suddenly, I checked the time on my phone. “Crap. I need to get to the theater for rehearsal,” I told her, rushing to finish the rest of my coffee, knowing that I’d need it.
Excitement bubbled in my stomach as Leah wished me luck and I raced out of the coffee shop.
Law school required applicants to complete a degree before applying. I had chosen to do a Bachelor of Arts, majoring in humanities. The humanities part had pleased my father, as it would contribute greatly to my future law degree. But what he didn’t know was that in pleasing him, I had gotten what I wanted. The Bachelor of Arts allowed me to take the classes that I actually loved. The one thing that had kept me sane over the past four years.
Dance.
Sweat dripped from my skin as I inhaled heavily and stared into the floor length mirror in front of me.
I heard quiet clapping and turned to see Sally standing in the doorway of the dance studio. “It’s perfect.”
I smiled, but it was forced and tense. “It’s not right yet.”
Sally shook her head. “Emerson, no matter what you dance, you embody it. There’s a passion inside you that some dancers would kill for.” Her posh English accent made the compliment sound even more powerful than she’d intended, but even though I appreciated it, I still felt as though there was something missing.
I walked to the side of the room and drank my entire bottle of water. “Passion isn’t everything…” I told her as my body pleaded for air, “… if the skill isn’t there.”
Passion isn’t going to convince my father that this is what I should be doing with my life.
At one point, I had even considered failing my classes on purpose so I could escape. But my family knew better than that.
I sighed, hanging my head. I loved them. They had always been there when I needed them, and I really did want them to be proud of me. But I wanted them to be proud because of the person I am, not because of the person they wanted me to be.
Unfortunately, family always came first.
Dreams a very distant second.
Sally walked over and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “It’s nearly seven p.m. Go home.”
I took a deep breath, finally allowing myself to take note of my aching body. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“And don’t even think of showing up here at six in the morning. Take a day to rest, otherwise you’re going to burn out,” Sally said sternly, narrowing her eyes at me.
She knew me. That’s exactly what I’d been thinking of doing. She’d been my dance instructor since freshman year. We’d become really close, and I even began working with Sally as her teacher’s assistant from time to time.
I smiled and waved as I headed out of the room and down the hallway. Pushing through the main doors and out into the night air, a gentle shudder spread through me as the cool breeze skimmed across my skin. I tucked my backpack a little closer to my body. The sweat that lingered on my skin began to cool and sent a cold shiver down my spine.
It was dark, but the campus was lit up with bright lights, and there were still students milling around. The steps of the dance I was working on playing over and over in my head as I walked to my car. My arms and feet moved to a silent beat as I stepped down the concrete pathway that led to the parking lot.
I could still remember the day when I first discovered my love for dance.
My parents were very strict on extracurricular activities, always telling me that they took time away from study. So I never really experienced the art of movement until later on. Some might say I was a late bloomer. A lot of dancers that I’d talked to had been doing it since they were four or five. Sometimes even younger.
They knew that early that this was what they were made for.
Maybe I did know too but had never been given the opportunity to explore it.
Until I was eight and my school invited a dance school in to do a performance.
They were from the Boston Conservatory, one of the most prestigious dance academies in the United States and my ultimate dream. I remember how they appeared to not just be moving with the music, but seemed to be a part of the music themselves. The flow of their bodies, the way they practically breathed the airy tune, hauntingly depicting the scene. The music had no words, but their bodies told a story that I would never forget.
I went home that night and begged my father for dance lessons. At first, he denied my request, but I didn’t give up. For weeks I asked, I pleaded. The memory of the dancers from Boston played over and over in my mind with the way their bodies curved and twisted into unimaginable positions. The turns, the leaps, the way they pushed themselves to the limits of their bodies and then even further.
Eventually, I decided to play to my father’s business sense. My sister Sophia and I received an allowance every week. While my sister spent hers on shopping and designer clothes, I told my father I would like to use my allowance to pay for the lessons.
I researched dance, explaining to him how it taught discipline and persistence. I showed him examples of dancers who went on to become CEO’s, lawyers and wealthy business owners. All because they were taught determination and the ability to handle pressure through the art of movement.
I could tell both him and my mother were impressed with my logic, and the way I presented it. So he gave in, but only under strict conditions—I could dance as long as it didn’t interfere with my school work or my future. In other words, if I let my grades slip and I became at risk of losing the future he had so carefully mapped out for me, it was over.
Between dance and study, there was no room for a job, so I had to rely on my father to pay for my education and the house I lived in.
So I followed his rules.
Even if they did smother me.
I allowed dance to be the one thing that pulled me away. It allowed me to be someone else, to live a different life, to express my feelings. It was everything that I felt I couldn’t be in reality.
It was my saving grace from what I viewed as a life sentence.
So I held onto it tightly. With both hands.
“Emerson!” I startled out of my daydream as I looked around for the familiar voice.
I saw my friend Max running toward me, waving his hand so I stopped. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he pushed them back up as he jogged over to me. Max and I had become friends last year when he transferred here from another college. He was sweet and shy and supportive. He had confided in me about the pressure that he was under from his family to go to law school, and we’d forged a connection. We’d studied for the LSATs together and had both passed. Max was smart, but only because of the amount of effort he put into his education. He really did want to be a lawyer, telling me that he needed to make a difference in the world. But where I found tests simple, Max had huge anxiety.
“Hey.” I smiled as I stood and waited for him to catch up to me.
He offered me a shy smile, and I giggled to myself. I wasn’t entirely sure how he intended on being a lawyer when he couldn’t even stop himself from blushing every time he talked to a pretty girl. He was one of those guys that you wanted to take home to your parents—a little strange, but sweet as hell, and with his head screwed on right.
“How’s the dance number coming?” he asked, as we continued to walk to the parking lot.
I nodded. “I think it’s close.”
He laughed. “You doubt yourself too much. We both know it’s going to be amazing.”
I smiled and looked away at the compliment. “Thanks,
Max.”
We reached my car, and I leaned back against it. “I’m having the girls over this weekend. You’re going to come, right? Auditions are tomorrow, and I’m either going to be drowning my sorrows or celebrating.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he beamed. “I’ll bring the congratulations balloons.”
I laughed loudly. “You better bring some ‘better luck next time’ ones too. You know… just in case.”
Max slowly backed away heading to his car that was parked a few spaces from mine. “You’ve got this, Emmy.”
I swallowed tightly as he climbed into his car and started the engine. “Glad someone else thinks so. I’m not so sure.”
I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as I walked through my front door, tossing my backpack down by the staircase and releasing my body of its heavy contents. I rolled my shoulders, a small giggle slipping from my lips.
I’d done it.
The audition panel that I’d danced for yesterday had called me not twenty minutes ago and given me the good news. I would be staring in the summer spectacular. The biggest show of the year, where all the performing arts students came together to make one huge show. It played for three days and nights, like a real piece of work you would go out to see at the theater.
I’d been in it the past two years, but this time, I’d pulled on my big girl panties and auditioned for the lead dance role. It was a lot of pressure to put on myself considering I’d also be taking final exams over the coming months, but I knew I could do it. And I knew it would be worth it.
There would be representatives attending from all the important performing arts schools around the country. Just thinking about getting the offer to attend one of them sent a shiver of excitement and pride through my body. Even though I knew I could never accept, given I’d be heading to Yale to begin law school. But a part of me felt like if I could just get confirmation that I was good enough, then I would be satisfied, and could possibly move on with my life without wanting more or wondering what if.
“I’m guessing that smile means you got the part.” My body froze, and I looked up.
“Sophie,” I cried, running toward her, and throwing myself into my sister’s arms. We both laughed as we swayed back and forth. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice breaking as I was unable to talk through my excitement.
She pulled back, her beautiful smile filling me with joy. “You told me last month that you were auditioning. And I just knew you’d get it.”
I warmed inside.
Sophie had always been my biggest supporter.
Our parents knew I danced, but I never informed them regarding any news this big out of fear that my father would protest and demand it was taking too much time away, time I should be focusing on studying. But Sophie knew me best. She knew I could do both, and believed in me with every beat of her heart.
“So, we’re celebrating… right?” She grinned.
I nodded. “Just a few drinks with the girls, tomorrow night. You’re going to stick around, aren’t you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Duh. You have me for the whole weekend.” She stepped to the side to reveal three large, bright pink suitcases behind her.
I snorted. “Traveling light this time?”
“There’s a small catch, though,” she threw out quickly with an innocent smile.
I frowned and folded my arms across my chest. “Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this catch?”
She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before letting out a long breath. “When Mom and Dad heard I was coming, they decided to come along for the ride.” I opened my mouth to let out a slew of unladylike words before she cut me off. “They’re only around for tonight then they’re heading to some business thing in Miami. They thought it might be a good idea for us to all have dinner together since you’re never home anymore.”
I screwed up my nose.
It was true, I never made the trip home to California. I found keeping in contact with my parents over the phone every few weeks was enough for me. It allowed me to keep them at a distance, which I felt comfortable with.
The pressure my father put on me to do well in school and stay focused, often became too much for me to bear. His words always had a way of making me feel guilty because even though my grades were excellent and I was doing well in all my classes, I still spent more time than he considered appropriate on dance. Over the phone I was able to keep the focus on my schooling, but in person, it was a lot harder to avoid the hard questions and strict lectures that he liked to deliver.
I let out a heavy sigh and shook my head. “I guess I had it coming.”
Sophie wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder and pulled me against her side. “I’ll be there with you, don’t worry about it. I got into a fight with Lucy Lacrosse at a nightclub in LA last night, and I’m expecting the pictures to make the news any minute. Mom and Dad are going to be all over that like white on rice. You’re safe.”
I had to laugh at the way Sophie made it sound like she’d picked a fight with another stuck up socialite on purpose, just to keep the heat off me. I knew it wasn’t like that, but to be completely honest, I wouldn’t doubt that if she felt like it would benefit me, that she would absolutely do it.
We had each other’s backs through thick and thin, and I would do anything—anything—to protect her. Just like she would for me.
Hooking her arm through mine, she led me out the large patio doors and onto the wooden deck. The sun hammered down on us from above. The weather was always warm in Florida, but with summer on its way, I reveled in the slight burn against my skin.
Sophie breathed deeply, the sun sparkling across her flawless skin. “It’s so nice to get away from the lights and cameras and people watching your every move.” I heard the sadness in her words and pulled on her arm, turning her to face me.
“Don’t tell me you’re sick of being famous,” I said sarcastically, but from the distant look on her face, I wondered if I wasn’t far from the truth.
She shook her head, it was quickly followed by a forced giggle. “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of it, I was born to be dramatic. But it is nice to have my own space once in a while, you know?”
I did know. With my family living in California and my father shuffling between there and New York City, I’d decided to escape to Florida. I could have gone to almost any college I wanted, my grades were high, and my reputation was perfect. But I’d chosen somewhere more off the grid, away from the pressure of my parents, and away from the people who felt the need to continuously dissect my mother and sister and their lives in the light.
I wasn’t made for that world.
Space and privacy were things I loved too much. I had a small group of close friends, who I felt as though I could be myself around. They pulled me out of my box when they thought I needed it, but otherwise, they supported me and let me be with my dance and my books.
“I get it.” I grinned, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close.
Sophie and I were very different, a mixture of our parents but in totally opposite ways.
I inherited my mom’s blonde hair and blue eyes, but in a stroke of luck, also snagged my dad’s tanned skin. While Sophie mostly took after my father with her long luscious dark hair and Mom’s slightly pale complexion. Apart from the fact that we shared a last name, no one would ever guess that we were sisters.
The Rossi name was well known, my father created his business from the ground up without any help from his family. I didn’t really know much about them, who they were, or why they felt the need to push my father away. Other than an uncle and a few cousins who we’d met a couple of times, all I knew about my dad’s family, was that his parents had come from Italy and that as kids he and his brothers had spent time there when they were younger with their grandparents. My father still had the slightest accent, it was more prominent when he got angry, but I also knew that even though he didn’t often speak it, he was completely fluent i
n Italian.
I’d never really been curious enough to learn more about them. Despite how my father annoyed me, he’d still raised me and struggled and fought to build a life for us so we could succeed. I had respect for that and respect for him. If his family couldn’t see that and chose to not have him in their lives, then I wouldn’t have them in mine. Sophie, on the other hand, loved to learn about our culture and who we were, she’d even started to learn Italian when we were in high school.
“Let’s go swimming,” she said suddenly, squeezing me tightly before stepping back with a playful glint in her eyes.
Sophie was infectious, her smile and her energy pulled you in like a death grip on your heart, and you couldn’t help but feel anything but joy when you were in her presence.
“I miss you,” I said honestly, unable to wipe the smile off my face.
She sighed and chuckled softly. “I miss you, too. I miss this…” she waved her hand between us, “… being able to breathe and laugh and be silly without people watching me, or some paparazzi asshole climbing over the back fence.” I didn’t miss the sad expression and the sparkle in her eyes, even as she smiled like it was all just a joke. Sophie may be a good actress, but she couldn’t hide from me.
I knew her, inside and out.
“Tell me,” I demanded softly. Her eyes flicked up to mine. “Sophie, what’s going on?”
We moved over to a couple of loungers and sat down. I couldn’t help but be concerned with her change in demeanor. She twisted her hands nervously in her lap, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as though she was trying to find some kind of strength, determined to not be sad. “It’s just boy stuff, you know how it goes,” she finally answered, waving her hand as if that would make it go away.
