This isn't what dance is supposed to be.
This isn't how it's supposed to make you feel.
I drop to my ass beside the barre, reaching for my phone again. My hands shake as I type out a text to my mom.
Me: I need a favor.
It doesn't even take her a full minute to text back.
Mom: Name it.
I type out and delete my text three different times. And then I settle on:
Me: Can I come over?
Mom: You don't even need to ask, sweetheart. I'll be right here, waiting.
That's the thing I love about her. She's always there, no matter what.
I'm a ball of nerves as I pace the living room where I grew up, too restless to sit, too anxious to stop.
Mom just watches me from her perch on the arm of the sofa, her expression soft. "You look different, Soph."
"I feel different."
"You had a good weekend with Harlan?"
I spin to face her, suspicious. "Who ratted me out? Was it Sidney?"
"Oh, Sophie." She laughs quietly. "Your brothers didn't have to tell me anything. I know you. You were mad enough to spit nails before you left, and no one pisses you off that much unless you care."
"Greg pisses me off."
"That little worm is the exception," she growls, her eyes narrowing. "Is that why you're here now? Did something happen at practice?"
"No. Well, nothing more than usual." I roll my eyes and then resume pacing again. "I think…I guess…" I huff, trying to figure out how to say what I want to say. "I want to quit."
She doesn't say anything, and I'm a little afraid to face her, so I just don't.
"I mean, I don't want to quit ballet. Iloveballet," I hurry to say. "I just…I think I need to do it somewhere else. I think…I think…"
"You've had enough," she whispers.
I nod miserably. "I realized today that I'm not supposed to feel like this, Mom. I'm supposed to feel like I did this weekend. I used to be able to block it out and just focus on the parts I loved, but…"
"The other stuff has gotten louder," she says.
"Yeah."
She pushes to her feet, padding toward me on silent feet. "I wondered how long it'd take you to figure it out," she says, pulling me into a tight hug. "I told your dad this was coming after you hit that little snake."
"You did?" I blink at her.
Her lips quirk. "I told you that I know you, Sophie Elizabeth. You've been restless and unsettled since you hit him. You have this look in your eyes that you've only ever had once before, back when you were a teenager and left your first studio. It's like you know you aren't where you're supposed to be anymore, and you won't be able to relax again until you move on."
"What…" I pause, licking my lips. "What if my place is a person and not a company?"
Her gaze flickers across my face. "You mean Harlan."
