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She’s praised the daughter of a maid with second-second-second hand battered old ballet shoes.
Maybe I can be a ballet dancer after all...
8
EMMA
“Hello, Emma.”
August Penmayne surprises me when I arrive - running in glee after Irina’s big compliments - back at the billionaire mansion.
He apprehends me in the inner gardens. I’m sprinting, and he’s walking while reading a textbook. His words force me to stop dead in my tracks. I nearly jump in shock at his sudden intrusion into my happy world.
I take a moment to catch my breath and to look at him up and down. He’s wearing a linen shirt, rolled up at the sleeves showing delicious veiny arms. His brown hair is neatly parted and, I notice, recently trimmed. He stares back at me inquisitively through his glasses. He holds his textbook open by his side as he regards me.
“Hello, August,” I mutter. “You’ve taken me off guard.”
There’s a slight smirk on his face. “Not my intention, Emma. You were in a rush. Where have you just been?”
“Dancing.”
“Oh, really? A class?”
“Yeah.”
“And it’s going well?” he asks.
I smile.
“Yeah, I reckon it is,” I reply.
“You like it?” he asks.
I nod.
“Yes. A lot, actually.”
“Perfect. It’s good to have a passion.”
“And what about you?” I ask August. I don’t have to be anywhere right now, and it’s fun probing the boy, so I continue the conversation. “What’s your... passion?”
“I don’t have anything close to something like dancing,” he replies.
“But you’ve always got a textbook with you,” I remark, pointing at the book by his side. “Are you, like, super smart or something? Is that it?”
He smiles warmly, then. “No,” he replies. “Spencer is the smart brother in my family. If I had it my way, I wouldn’t study so hard, but my parents are pushing me into somethingrespectable.”
“What kind of respectable?”
“Medical school,” August replies. “They want me to get agood job. Whatever that means.”
“And what doyouwant to do?” I ask him, the emphasis firmly onyou.
“I guess medical school as well. My parents are right, as usual. The more I study and read these textbooks, the more I want to do this. I want to be a doctor. I guess you could call that passion.”
“A doctor,” I reply, repeating his words slowly. “That’s cool. Saving people?”
“Savingkids,” August corrects. “That’s the field I want to get into.”
